“What did Grayson say?” Macy asks.
I smile, remembering our conversation. “He offered to deface his front yard or call him and tell him to fuck off. My choice.”
“Oh, I’d totally help,” Macy giggles. “I bet Grayson looks hot defacing things.”
“Thanks, Mace.” I roll my eyes through my laughter. “I just needed to say it out loud to the only two people who’d really get it.”
“We’ve got you, Mia,” Makenna says firmly, warmth returning to her eyes.
“Always,” Macy adds, raising her glass to cheers through the phone.
Chapter thirty-four
"Way Down We Go" - KALEO
Grayson
Iwander around the venue before soundcheck, trying to kill time—and more importantly, avoid Jake like the plague. I’m trying to decompress before playing the biggest show of my career tonight, and his apocalyptic energy rubbing off on me is the last thing I need before going on stage.
Mia is still on the bus. She mentioned wanting to call her sisters and tell them about her dad’s voicemail. I didn’t want tolinger around while she did that. It seemed like something she needed to do on her own.
I push the back door of the venue open and breathe in the slightly disgusting, humid Florida air. I find Johanna sitting on a metal equipment case, heels kicked off beside her, scrolling through her phone but not absorbing any of what’s on it. She still looks polished, even in this heat, but I know her well enough to see the cracks beneath the surface.
“Avoiding Jake, too?” I ask as I walk up.
She glances up at me and tucks her phone into her pocket. “He’s acting like you’re opening for All Time Low tonight.”
“We basically are,” I chuckle. “To tonight’s crowd anyway.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
I hoist myself up onto the metal case to sit next to her. For a few minutes, neither of us say anything. We listen to the sounds of the bands loading in—including mine. The best thing about being the front man is that it takes literal seconds to set up a microphone and whatever guitar I want to use. I’m reminded heavily of this as I hear Tony yelling something about lost “lucky” drumsticks. But right now, in this little corner, it’s relatively quiet.
“Have you heard from Mom?” I ask finally, realizing this is probably the first time I’ve ever asked her that question.
Johanna doesn’t—maybe can’t—look at me.
“She’s hanging on. But yeah… I can feel it every time I talk to her. It’s getting closer.”
The knot in my chest tightens. “I should’ve stayed longer. Said more. Done more. I don’t know. I can’t shake the guilt.”
“She knows, Gray,” she says softly. “You think you didn’t do enough, but going at all? That meant everything to her.”
“I still should’ve spent more than, what, a few hours with her?” I mutter. “I could’ve cancelled a show. I should’ve.”
“She didn’t want that, Grayson,” Johanna insists. “Besides, the show you would’ve cancelled would’ve been Philly, and if that show hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t be entertaining signing a major record deal at the end of this tour. It’s all been for a reason.”
A long silence stands between us, heavy but not uncomfortable, because the reality is that she’s right. I drop my head into my hands and take a deep breath.
“I’m scared, Joey,” I admit, another first. “I don’t want to get that call. I don’t think I can take it.”
Johanna puts her arms around me and rests her head against my shoulder. “I’m scared, too. But we can take it together, however it happens.”
I look up at her. She’s always so damn calm. If everything’s about to go up in flames, I’m grateful I’m not going to have to do it alone.
The venue is packed. Even standing in our dressing room in the back of it, I can tell. The floor is literally vibrating beneath my boots and I can hear the crowd chanting through the closed door.
Sold out show.
