“Grayson,” Johanna says through tears. “I wanted to—”
“Then why didn’t you?” I shout, already hoarse from screaming lyrics and now this. “You knew how I felt about what happened with Mom. How could younotpull me off stage?”
“We didn’t know how bad it was yet,” Jake says, stepping between us. “We still don’t. You were in the middle of the biggest night of your career. We didn’t want to destroy everything you worked so hard for if—if we didn’t know everything.”
“You think I give a single fuck about the label?” I laugh bitterly. “You think I’d care if they’d seen me lose it? I don’t. Not if it meant getting one more moment with her.”
“Of course—”
“She could bedying, Jake!” I scream. “And you let me finish a fucking set!”
Rylee is sobbing now. Johanna looks wrecked. And Jake… Jake just takes the abuse. Like he knows he deserves every word.
I don’t wait for more excuses. I can’t. She may not have time for that. I spin around and storm down the hallway towards the exit.
“I’m going to the hospital,” I snap as I head for the door. “If anyone tries to stop me, or tell me anything aboutimage, I swear—”
“Grayson!” Johanna chases after me. “We have a car waiting. Jake already called ahead. It won’t help anything if you get mobbed on your way there. Let us help—please.”
I don’t look back.
I’m done waiting.
Done not knowing.
Done being too late.
“Get me to the fucking car.”
Chapter forty-five
"Falling Short" - MOONZz
Mia
My flight from Boston had been delayed five times.
Even then, the plane had landed late, and of course, my luggage had taken its sweet time. I’d almost saidfuck itand left without it.
But I made it.
I’m here.
I hadn’t told anyone I was coming. I could say I wanted it to be a surprise, but truthfully, it’s because I didn’t trust myself not to back out.
Once I get my luggage, I run to the dingy airport bathroom to change. I want to look likeher—the Mia Alexander he looks at like she’s the only person in the room. I touch up my soft chocolate curls, reapply my lipstick, and pull on the leather skirt I’d worn at the Philly show that I know makes him crazy. It’s the one thing I allowed myself to take from the bus that reminded me of him.
Once I deem my appearance as good as it’s going to get, I go off in search of my rental car. It smells like dirty leather and stale coffee, I notice, as I throw my bags in the trunk and pull out of the parking lot as if I’m racing the clock.
Because I am.
I know I’ve missed seeing him before the show starts, but I can still make it for the back half if I hurry.
I leave the radio off. My thoughts are loud enough.
What if Johanna is wrong, and he doesn’t want to see me? What if he’s written me off because I hadn’t made it in time to see him before the show?
Still, I make myself keep going. Because I’m not going to get any answers by turning around.
