Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
SYRACUSE, NEW YORK
I slip my key card into the hotel door, the click loud as I brace myself. I’m sure it just announced my presence for the entire suite, blaring loudly for all of them to hear: Traitor Alert, Traitor Alert.
I curse to myself. Why did the roadie have to put my guitar in my room?
I’ve been staying in the guys’ rooms for four stops now.
It’s been a week since I’ve been able to speak to the girls.
I’ve been avoiding the situation like the plague ever since Cleo started ignoring me.
Ignoring the green room at shows, getting my hair and makeup done while they’re in the dressing rooms and vice versa.
The only time we have seen each other is on stage.
We pretend everything is okay, smile and laugh, and lose ourselves to the music that we wrote together.
That simple fact has been keeping me together.
Every time Lark gives me a supportive glance or smile, or anytime Nicola looks at me while we’re playing.
I know they still love me despite the confusion, despite the distance, but it’s still something I can bring myself to figure out yet.
If anyone notices the tension on stage, they haven’t said anything. Even Ruby, who can pick out our moods better than anyone, hasn’t said anything about the awkwardness. It’s like everyone has been working on autopilot and ignoring the gigantic elephant in the room, no one more so than me.
I would still be avoiding it if it weren’t for my uncle’s guitar waiting for me in the room. If I were a conspiracy theorist, I would think someone from our team bribed the roadie to drop my guitar off in the wrong room.
My bet would be on Tom, since I’m sure he’s getting the short end of the stick with Cleo.
I walk in, hoping beyond hope that the suite is empty but—of course—I can’t be that lucky. Like a deer in headlights, I freeze when I see my three bandmates hanging out on the couch, all of them doing their own things as I stroll in like nothing has happened.
I don’t move, completely afraid of what will happen if I do. Lark’s pen pauses mid-sentence against her notepad, her eyes widening as she takes me in. Nicola’s vape is in her mouth, smoke trailing out of the corner as she forgets to inhale at the sight of me.
Cleo looks up from her phone, her face unreadable for the few seconds it takes for her to process that it’s me, and then her eyes narrow. If she has any feelings about me being here, she doesn’t let on as she stands and starts to make her way out of the room.
“Cleo—” I start as she passes me, but when I get close enough to stop her from retreating, she slams the door right in my face, the force of it rattling the hotel walls.
“Great, now we’re going to get the front desk called on us,” Lark mutters, voice monotone.
I feel the emotion build up another layer. I have to blink rapidly to keep it from falling, but my lip betrays me as it wobbles. Luckily, the girls don’t say anything. They just let me have my moment staring at the closed door, sitting with the sordid reality of what our dynamic has come to.
I take in a deep breath and center myself before turning around to them.
Nicola is still watching me, her vape still hanging out of her mouth. She takes a quick hit of it when she realizes and exhales the smoke before she says anything. “So… how have things been?”
I bite my lip. “Things have been—” I pause to figure out the best adjective. Amazing? Daunting? Conflicting? But I settle for, “Good.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “We’ve missed you.”
Another wave of sadness rushes over me, and I have to stop myself from crying once more. “I’ve missed you, too.”
I don’t mention that they haven’t all missed me. I take the sentiment and disregard everything else. I step forward and join them on the couch, realizing that my guitar and the guys can wait until I’ve had a moment with my friends.
“Are they treating you well?” Lark asks kindly. Her tone is the same one she always has when she’s checking in. Straight, honest, and to the point.
I nod, thinking about just how well the guys have been treating me. It’s everything my omega needed and more, but I try to hold back my smile just in case they see right through me. “They’re good. I needed this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
“As long as you’re happy, I don’t care,” Lark says as she writes something down and closes her notepad.
“Same,” Nicola agrees as she moves to sit on her knees facing me. “How is it having that big bed to yourself? I bet the guys’ backs are hurting.”
I widen my eyes, but then school my features when I notice. “It’s great! They had a curtain installed so it feels separate from the bus.”
Nicola laughs. “I’m jealous. Cleo’s been hogging ours.”
At the mention of Cleo, I blanch a little bit. “At least you get your own bed tonight.”
“Fucking finally,” she responds, her lips quirking.
Silence falls over us; all of the things we’ve been avoiding linger as we sit in it, pretending there isn’t more to be said, more to be answered.
“She’s…” I pause and glance over at Cleo’s door before lowering my voice. “She’s not taking it well, huh?”
Lark shakes her head. “She was never going to take it well, Jo, but it’s not her choice. She can’t boss everyone around all the time and not expect any consequences.”
Nicola suddenly looks uncomfortable, her hands fiddling in her lap. “Lark told me that you two had a fight at the dress shop. I think I must have blacked out, because I don’t remember it. I’m sorry I wasn’t more helpful.”
“Aw, Nic. I’m sorry that I ruined your fake bridesmaid fitting.”
She chokes on a laugh. “Gosh, we shouldn’t have done that.”
“It was nice at first,” I try to defend, but it falls flat.
“No, it wasn’t.” Nicola grins wide. “I think I just liked the idea that this could be in my immediate future, that Alek might propose sooner rather than later…”
Lark cuts in. “Hey, it’s possible.”
“Maybe.” She lets that ominous word hang in the air just as her phone starts to ring. She picks it up and rolls her eyes. “Speaking of the devil.”
“Is everything okay with you two?”
She waves me off. “Yeah, he’s just… being Alek. A little bit controlling, a little bit insecure. You know how things are sometimes.”
My brow arches, because I don’t. I have nothing but warm fuzzy feelings for my guys, and they do everything in the world to make me feel special even when things are stressful. The last thing I would ever describe them as is “insecure” or “controlling.”
“I better answer so he doesn’t have a tantrum. I’ll be back.”
The statement stuns me as she answers the phone and closes herself up in her room. I look over at Lark, who looks completely impassive at Nicola’s words. “It hasn’t gotten any better?”
“My guess is that it’s gotten worse. I mean, they’ve been together for four years and over a year of that she has spent on the road. I’m sure his attitude about it doesn’t help.”
“But he travels, too. He has his own shows and obligations, he can’t be that insensitive to it.”
She shrugs. “I don’t think you can rationalize your feelings when you’re too high to feel them.”
My head whips to her. “He’s still using? Even when she isn’t there?”
Lark’s close-lipped expression speaks volumes. “She’s mentioned that he…” She pauses to think. “Partakes more than she does. I think she’s tried to open up about him having a possible addiction, but I don’t think she wants Cleo to defend him or mention the things she does. Or maybe…”
“Maybe she thinks if she doesn’t say it out loud, it won’t become real,” I finish for her.
She nods, her eyes looking at me way more intently than they ever have. “But I think it’s time to talk about it, huh?”
I don’t think we’re talking about Alek anymore. My skin prickles as she continues to look at me, expectation shining in her green eyes that are a shade darker than mine.
My throat suddenly feels dry, the room caving in on us quickly. “Is she using again?” I ask tentatively.
Lark looks sheepish as she nods her head, and my world falls apart.
I think somewhere deep down, I knew. Just like I knew what Nicola and her boyfriend get up to whenever we’re home in L.A.
, I think I knew that Cleo was doing the same, but I didn’t want it to be true.
I wanted it to be a one-time thing, something that helped her get through our last tour.
A self-medicating experience, if you will, but deep down, I always knew the truth.
“I’m worried about both of them,” Lark says candidly, her armor cracking in front of me.
“They’re just so unaware of what’s happening.
I think they’ve settled into the rock star fantasy completely: playing every night, feeling unstoppable.
But they are stoppable, and they’re going to crash and burn, and I don’t know what to do. ”
I scoot closer to her. I’ve always known Lark had deeper feelings than she let show, but she’s always shown them in her own discreet way. Now she is being fully open, and I don’t want to miss a second of it.
I take her hand and squeeze.
“Nicola is starting to wake up a bit, I think, because of the way Alek is acting, but Cleo—” Lark shakes her head, her gaze shooting to our friend’s door over my shoulder before she whispers, “I don’t think she’s just on coke anymore.
I’ve seen her use it, out in the open, but I’ve seen her disappear before and come back completely sluggish.
She is a completely different person, even compared to the last tour. ”
I nod, feeling reaffirmed by her words. I knew I wasn’t going crazy. I knew things felt like they were getting worse for wear, but to hear my same concerns coming straight from Lark’s mouth makes it so much better—and way worse—than I could ever imagine.
“She is angry,” I agree. “Distant, volatile…”