“I’m going to head backstage,” Jane says. “You guys want to come?”
The backstage area of a club like this is probably pretty small. It’s not like they’re playing a sold-out arena—that’s where I’d like to take them, after we put out another album. But here and now, I’m unlikely to go unnoticed if I use my backstage pass earlier than planned.
Then again, if they’re really not going to come out and finish their set, I guess it’s not technicallyearly. And if theydosign with me, I won’t be out of place at all.
Adam defers to me, and I nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
Doubt settles low in my stomach, even as Adam agrees to come backstage with me. It grows heavier, when we give our names to the security guard at the stage door, who checks his list and lets us through. Solidifies when we round the corner and find Sheridan and Freddie Dempsey at each other’s throats.
Ralph squeezes between them, facing Freddie as he lifts both hands and tries to defuse the situation, while Curtis has one arm raised protectively in front of Sheridan, like he knows better than to fully hold her back, but is itching to take her place instead.
“—selfish prick, you know that?” Sheridan is yelling at her brother.
Fiona hovers in the background, her phone gripped tight in one hand while the other pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Oh, fuck off, Sher. You’re the one acting like a goddamn diva.”
Sheridan launches forward, only to have Curtis lift her off her feet and spin her around. Once he sets her down, his hands hover over her shoulders and he speaks to her in a low, steady voice. I can’t make out what he’s saying to her—or what Freddie says next—but it’s clear as day when Curtis spins around to face Freddie and shouts:
“Man, shut the fuck up. You think we don’t know you’ve been talking to other managers without us?”
My gaze darts over to Fiona. Her arms are crossed and her lips are pursed as she coolly observes the infighting. She doesn’t look surprised by this revelation, but then again, Dempsey already dropped their label and their publicist. She’d be smart to wonder if she was next on the chopping block.
“I’m not gonna apologize for exploring every option for my band—”
Ralph huffs, looking flushed and furious, puppy-dog eyes nowhere to be found as finally he speaks up: “When did you decide this wasyourband?”
“He’s always thought that,” Sheridan yells over Curtis’s shoulder. “He just used to be better at hiding it.”
“Think what you want,” Curtis says next. “But I’m never signing on with Billy Draper.”
I feel Adam stiffen beside me, feel him watching me. His gaze itches across my skin, but I don’t give in to the urge to scratch.
Billy Draper. Freddie reached out to Billy Draper.
The band is still slinging insults at one another, but I’ve heard enough. I grab Adam’s arm and drag him away from the group, skirting past them right as Sheridan pulls one of Curtis’s drumsticks out of his back pocket and throws it at Freddie’s head. It misses, and the whole display of sibling rivalry might even be funny in some other context. But right now, I’m not laughing. Right now, the pieces are clicking into place and the only thought in my mind is that Adam could have made this so much easier on both of us.
I don’t know where I’m going. I turn down a hallway, and the bright lights are jarring compared to the darkness backstage. There’s a greenroom on my right, and I pull Adam inside.
I let go of Adam’s arm and round on him. He fidgets with his glasses, a nervous tic I’ve noticed throughout the day. Silence stretches out between us, and I’m tempted to force him to speak first, if only to see what he comes up with.
But in the end, I’m too angry to stay quiet.
“Billy Draper told you about my meeting.”
His throat shifts as he swallows. He nods once.
“And Billy heard about it from Freddie.”
“Yes. I know I should’ve said something—”
“That would’ve been nice, yeah. If you’d told me the truth any of the times I directly asked you, or any of the times Billy’s name came up today.” He hadso manychances. That’s what kills me. Like, I get him not telling me first thing this morning, when we were still in competition mode. We were hungover, and reeling from last night, and we didn’t trust each other yet. But after that? After everything we went throughtoday? After everything I told him about my job, and what Dempsey meant to me?
“I…” Adam shuffles a bit closer. “I wanted to tell you. When we were talking, before the newlywed game, I almost told you.”
I raise my brows. “Oh, did you? That’s so helpful, Adam. You should definitely get points foralmostdoing the decent thing before fucking me.”
“Hey, come on—”
