Chapter 30 #2
Let’s hear a massive round of applause for the band New Dawn!
The camera zooms out as a thunderous applause breaks out in the invisible audience.
My heart jumps when I spot Rudy sitting between Ian and Lauren.
Joey’s next to Lauren, his hand on her knee in what seems like a comforting gesture, but of course I know better.
He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off her since Thanksgiving—a frequent source of irritation for Rudy.
Just because I’m okay with this, doesn’t mean I want to see it in action!
he shouted when Joey shoved his tongue down Lauren’s throat after a recent band rehearsal.
Rudy shows off his most dazzling smile as he nods at the audience in gratitude.
He got a haircut just for the occasion, so it’s a bit shorter than it was, but it’s still styled in his signature tousled nonchalance.
He’s wearing an oversized black suit over a white tee with a deep V-neck.
Not exactly the kind of suit you’d wear to an office, but it’s a perfect match for the artsy image that he—or his management—is aiming for.
Once the applause dies down, Jerry jumps in again. His watery blue eyes are focused into the lens as he shuffles the cue cards in his hand.
Let me give you a brief introduction, he begins. Just a few weeks ago, lead singer Rudy Hughes was trending on pretty much every online platform. Record labels were falling over themselves trying to get in touch with this local New York City talent. Here’s a little clip.
The shot of the studio fades out as Rudy’s performance at the Battle of the Bands appears on screen.
The footage is a bit wobbly, since it was shot on a phone.
His eyes are closed at first, but then he opens them and looks directly at a spot in the back of the room—the spot where I was watching him play, my heart pounding.
His throaty voice fills the bar as his fingers caress the guitar strings. I feel goosebumps form as a shiver spills through my body. While my initial response to his live performance was sheer panic, my chest now floods with warmth and affection. It’s so beautiful and sweet.
As the video wraps up, the band appears on screen again. Rudy offers the host a polite smile as he showers him with compliments.
I’m serious, that was really incredible, Jerry says in a tone that suggests he’ll be asking Rudy to sign his left butt cheek at the end of the broadcast.
Thank you, Rudy replies kindly, shifting a little in his seat.
That sounded like a love song, Jerry decides. There’s a hungry look in his eyes, like he’s fishing for juicy details. Any chance you wrote it for a special someone in your life?
Rudy bites his lip and briefly looks off to the side at something or someone off camera. An unsure look appears in his eyes before he shakes his head.
My mouth drops. He’s. Shaking. His. Head.
I feel my chest heaving as I stare wide-eyed at the screen where Jerry’s giving him a doubtful look.
You didn’t?
Rudy shakes his head again. No. I’m single, he replies in a steady voice.
Emma? Marcel’s voice is quiet. Are you okay? Did you know about this?
I look to my left with my brows raised high. Did I know he was single? I sure didn’t. The last time I checked, he was definitely in a relationship.
The knot in my stomach tightens as I stare at the screen completely baffled, a wave of uncertainty washing over me.
We are in a relationship, right? We never officially said we were, but when he introduced me to his parents as his girlfriend, I very much assumed we were.
Yeah, we’re definitely in a relationship. There’s no other possible conclusion.
Jerry looks taken aback as he stares at Rudy, who’s trying to calm a twitching muscle in his jaw by pressing a hand against it.
Are you sure? He asks, his brow furrowed.
When Rudy nods, Jerry taps the tablet on his desk and a huge photo pops up on the screen behind him.
I find myself spitting my wine, that I’d been chugging in a frenzy, back into my glass.
It’s a massive picture of Rudy and me. We’re wearing skates and gliding along the ice, hand in hand, at Rockefeller Center.
There’s a blush on my cheeks and Rudy’s red nose is a clear sign that the temperature was well below freezing.
Snow clings to our scarves and hats, and our faces are positively beaming as the enormous Christmas tree sparkles in the background.
The bar goes silent and a few people shoot me curious glances, clearly wondering about the story behind this utterly romantic photo.
Well, who is this, then? Jerry asks, giving Rudy a calculated look.
Rudy squeezes his jaw shut, looking over to the screen. A warm glow appears in his eyes in the few sliiightly-too-long seconds he takes to process the picture. And then he turns back toward the person who appears to be standing just off camera before casually shrugging his shoulders.
She’s just a friend, he finally replies. I’m not the greatest skater in the world, but I really wanted to learn. She was giving me a hand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kate giving me an I told you so look, half-compassionate, half-smug.
I stare down at my hands that are folded in my lap. Marcel and Mariana are asking me if I’m okay and do I want to go outside for a minute, but I shake my head and look back up to the screen.
Fame does a bit of a number on people.
Agnes’s words echo through my head. Rudy’s not even really famous yet and he’s already acting like this. I’m not sure I want to find out what the future has in store.
I just don’t get it. How could he act like I don’t even exist? Is he trying to keep his options open? Tease future groupies with fantasies of a wild night together?
I feel so hurt. Hurt mixed with anger. Up on the screen, Lauren is sharing how she and Rudy have been creating music since they were side-by-side in their bassinets—even if it was ear-drum-rupturing, sleep-disrupting music in those early days.
I grip my empty wine glass so tight that my fingertips turn white. Filled with anger, I stare at the screen. If he believes I’m going to be okay with this, he’s got another think coming. I refuse to be someone’s dirty little secret ever again.