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The double doors of the study were wide open, my mom sitting on the arm of the couch beside where my father worked at his desk. He was pointing at something on the computer screen as she hummed along, but when she saw me in the doorway, she stopped, and a wide smile crossed her face.
“There’s our rock star,” she said, standing up and crossing the room to give me a big hug. I wrapped my arms around her slight shoulders and kissed the top of her blond head, the same golden color that I had, though it was straight and usually pinned up.
“That’s not what you’ve been calling me to all your friends, is it?” I asked.
Mom pulled back and smiled up at me. “Of course. We’ve got a famous son. You’re all they want to talk about.”
My stomach dropped as I wondered what the last Mom had heard was, but she winked at me. Whew, okay, she didn’t know yet. I’d gotten here as early as I dared, but I knew word traveled fast.
“Hey, son,” Dad said, stealing me away for a big bear hug of his own. That was one of the things I appreciated most about my parents—they weren’t shy about giving affection, not even my dad, who came from a long line of strong, silent types. With hair as fire-engine red as Imogen’s and as curly as mine, he was also the one I’d inherited my easy blushing ability from. His cheeks were stained a permanent pink flush, giving him a look I called “perpetually jolly.” We both had the same tall, lean frame, and though we looked almost nothing alike, I’d definitely inherited my love of music from him and my mom.
“You guys working on something?” I asked, nodding at the computer.
“Your mom was helping me work out a new composition.”
“You’re going to enjoy this one, Halo,” Mom said, taking a seat on the couch and patting the cushion beside her for me to join. “Your dad’s tapping into his romantic side.”
Dad rolled his eyes playfully and sat back in his chair. “Women.”
“You saying there’s something wrong with being a romantic?” I teased, falling onto the couch beside Mom. Viper always called me one, and if it was in any way true, I blamed that on my parents as well.
“Some of the greatest composers were romantics,” Dad said, lifting his chin, and I laughed.
“So how did the release party go?” Mom asked, angling herself toward me. “You’re up earlier than I would’ve thought after a late night.”
“It was a prerelease party. The album’s not out yet. But it was…” Unexpected? What ended up being the best night of my life? “Not bad for my first time.”
Not bad. Now I was using Viper’s lingo.
“Not bad? That’s all you’ve got?” Mom gave Dad an exasperated look. “‘Not bad,’ he says. Our boy’s a big shot now, and won’t even admit it.”
“Staying humble is a good thing, Cheryl.”
She waved her hand. “Of course it is, but that doesn’t mean he can’t give us the details of his big night.”
They both looked at me expectantly.
“I, uh, met a bunch of record company executives, and there were some other artists they manage there too. It was kind of loud and chaotic, people everywhere. I think Imogen enjoyed it.”
“I don’t think there’s a party your sister wouldn’t enjoy,” Dad said.
“Do we get pictures?” Mom asked. “I want to see you two all dressed up.”
Imogen had made me pose for about a million before we left, so there had to be at least one she approved of. And I’d rather them see those pictures than the ones that would be plastered who knew where. Because there was no doubt that even though Killian threatened security checking for photos on the way out of the party, there was at least one rogue shot that showed up somewhere.
“I’ll, uh, tell Im to send you some.” I wiped my suddenly sweaty palms on my pants.
“Everything all right?” Mom asked.
“If you need money for rent, you know you can ask us,” Dad said, and before I could protest, he put his hand up. “I know you always say no, but you’re not working in those bars anymore, and I know how the music industry works. They’ll pay you when they want to, so if you need something, don’t be shy.”
God love my parents, they always wanted to protect Im and me, and it had been a serious struggle to get them on board with us living in such a shithole building. But we’d been determined not to live off them, only renting what we could afford, much to their horror.
“Actually, I got my first check when I was in Miami.”
“Really? Well, you may not get another one for a while, so the offer’s there,” Dad said.
