“Are you done with him?”
“I’m not saying that. Shit, I don’t know what I’m saying. But if I stay, some things will have to change.”
“Like what?”
“Like the way he treats me for starters.”
“Fancy, I’m so sorry.” The line was silent except for Darla’s muffled cries.
“Don’t you start boo-hooing because I’m going to start and then we’ll just be on the line in a pool of tears.”
“I just … Fancy … I don’t like to see you hurt. Fuck.”
I didn’t want to think about my current situation, deciding instead to change the subject. “What else is going on?”
“Uhm … give me a sec.” Darla blew her nose to stop the sniffles. “Did you get my email?”
“What email?”
“The label is asking questions about the remaining tour dates. We put out a statement.”
A sudden coldness hit me at my core. “What kind of statement?”
“I emailed it to you.”
“Hold on.” I pulled up my inbox and scrolled until I found Darla’s message. My eyes frantically scanned the one-page attachment.
To our fans,
Due to unforeseen circumstances, Whiskey Wild missed day two of the Heritage Festival. We apologize to our fans who purchased tickets and incurred expenses to attend this event. If you’ve purchased tickets for Whiskey Wild’s Girls Behaving Badly tour we are determined to make every effort to resume the tour, with little to no missed dates after a brief hiatus.
Whiskey Wild loves our fans and looks forward to getting back on a stage near you in the coming weeks. Until then drink CHEAP WHISKEY and make some QUESTIONABLE CHOICES.
Fancy & Darla
Whiskey Wild
Turning my attention back to Darla, I asked, “Who greenlit this statement?”
“Well Chap and I?—”
“Chap,” I shouted. “He does not speak for me.”
“He kind of does, he’s our manager.”
Fuck him. Whiskey Wild was my baby. Mine and Darla’s. Chap didn’t get to make unauthorized decisions about my career. “I never agreed to canceling tour dates.”
“Fancy you’ve been MIA, decisions had to be made.”
“And so you and Chap are just making all the decisions now?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t you dare do that. I’ve had your back since day one.”
I was directing my anger at the wrong person. This wasn’t Darla’s fault it was Chap. If it wasn’t for Chap and his wandering eye, I’d be in Los Angeles rehearsing for the second leg of our tour. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”
“It’s okay, I know this is a lot.”
“Look Darla. I fucked up. I just up and left and didn’t stop to think about the group or the tour. I did the one thing we promised never to do … fuck up our money.”
