Her stomach sank. She could see the next part forming on his face.
“We have to wait.”
“What? Lenny, no.”
“Daisy—” He lifted his voice just a notch. “I want him better as much as you do, but we can’t let this blow up before LA. If we confront him now, he’ll spiral, the show will tank, and if anyone gets wind of it, we’re done. Bad press right now could kill the band.”
Daisy stared at him. She’d come to the “voice of reason” for a reason. Instead, she got a game plan.
How wrong she’d been.
Lenny loved Jameson, she knew that, but the taste of the thing they’d chased since garages and Bullets had sweetened on his tongue. He was thinking about the band’s future, not Jameson’s.
Bile rose. She swallowed, then spat, “You’re pathetic.”
He flinched.
No one said that to Lenny. He was the oldest, the steady one. Their fearless leader.
“I’m not saying do nothing,” he uttered. “I’m saying do nothing until after LA.”
She could have stayed and fought—fought for Jameson, for sense—but her fight had been leaking out of her for weeks. She just shook her head and walked away, discouraged by a choice that put the need for applause over a person. Her person.
Back in the hallway, indecision scraped. Should she take this on herself? Or wait?
She already knew which it would be. Not because she didn’t care, but because she did. Because he would hear her least when he was flying highest. Because LA could make or break them. Because she was scared of how he’d take it, especially from the people he loved.
She knew a storm was brewing; she felt the headwinds of it. Little did she know a bigger squall was looming, ready to sweep everything away in its wake.
Los Angeles.
The city of stars. Home to the most notorious and the most forgettable, all glittering under the same smog. Few arrived and thought,I hate it here.
Sadly, Daisy was in that minority.
Los Angeles was where everything came crashing down. The life she planned, the love that lit her heart, and the music—the sweet, sweet music that stitched two innocent souls together. In the end, it would be the thing that undid them.
It started after the San Diego show. Daisy tried to push the drugs out of her mind and focus on Jameson. She stayed close, but careful, her silent message that she was here, that she was on his side no matter how ugly his choices were.
After the show, the band forfeited meeting with any fans and made the two-hour drive to Los Angeles.
Her nerves clawed at her the entire way. Not only because of the confrontation she was putting off until after LA, but for something else entirely.
She was late.
Three weeks late. Panic late. Her cycle had never come like clockwork, but it had never vanished either.
Going through her bag a few days back, she’d realized she hadn’t even cracked open the new box of tampons. She hadn’t worried, until Miami flashed in her head: Jameson in post-show beast mode, dragging her to the bus once NYX 5 took the stage.
They’d gone at each other like they were famished. He’d muttered, “I’ll just pull out.” It was the first time without anything between them. There were a few more times after thatbecause it felt better, and they were young and reckless and so sure love made them foolproof.
But we were careful, she told herself.
She kept telling herself that as they checked into the hotel.
But we were careful.
But we were careful.
