Page 81 of Animal Beats

Coop takes a deep breath.

Luke claps his hands. “C’mon guys, let’s get to the jet.”

Leaving my best friend, I approach our manager. “I’m not going anywhere without Hayden.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, but it was the only way to shut down the label due to your antics. Nina feels awful about this.” His stressing “your” sinks into my bones. “However, if you’re not in Ireland by showtime, UC will perform without you.”

“Then they can get another drummer.” I pause. “I can’t get another Hayden.”

24

HAYDEN

Ienter the sad, little room overlooking the alleyway and run my fingers over the bed. I don’t have the luxury of time to wallow. I need to figure out my next steps. I take stock of my situation.

No boyfriend. No parents. Not going to burden my best friend Renata, since she’s in Los Angeles and dealing with her own issues following the wildfires.

I didn’t say goodbye to Jenna or Nese, as this whole mess happened too fast. I won’t reach out to them unless they text me first. What’s the point?

The chair in front of the dresser beckons. Plopping into it, it sinks in that I’m blackballed from PR. No way around it. What job can I get so I can pay for Mila’s school? This is the most important thing.

I’m good with a camera. Perhaps I can focus on my actual college degree? Can’t be for a large corporation, though, as the label will see I don’t get hired.

Standing, I move over to the bed and collapse, unable to stop another round of tears. This is all because of that stupid drummer. One who I thought had cleaned up his ways. I saw him in Philly with his parents—maybe they weren’t off the mark in writing him off. He’s nothing more than a child trapped in a man’s body, acting out for daddy’s acceptance.

He didn’t deserve me. I may not be rich, but at least I have the love of my family. My sister loves me. Needs me.

Images of Río and Mila playing drums together try to surface, but I shove them down into the deep recesses of my mind. No, thank you. That man doesn’t warrant another instant of my time.

I roll over to sitting. Maybe things will look better in the morning? I’m looking for a nightgown when someone knocks on my door.

Approaching the door with furrowed brows, I stop and say, “I didn’t order anything.”

“Not even a very poor excuse of a human being?”

Río. That’s Río’s voice. I lunge back, my head shaking.

Another knock. “Please let me in.”

My head shakes harder. Realizing he can’t see me—thankfully—I reply, “Go away. You’ve done enough.”

“I know I fucked up, but I’m here now. I want to fix this.”

Fists form. Now he knows he f’ed up? There’s no “fixing this.” In a loud voice, I yell, “You can’t fix anything. Leave.”

“I’ll stay out in this hallway all night if that’s what it takes. There has to be a solution.”

My eyelids close over my tired, tear-stained eyes. Other guests must be trying to sleep, and they don’t need to hear this bullshit from the entitled drummer. “It’s late. Don’t you have a plane to catch or something?”

“I only need to make things right with you.”

Too little, too late.

All of a sudden, a rhythm pounds on my door. I think it’s “Refocused Destiny,” but I’m not sure. Whatever. He has to quiet down. I hiss, “Hush!”

“I’m not going to stop until you let me in!” His drumming gets louder.

From somewhere down the hall, a man yells, “It’s two o’clock in the morning!”