Page 40 of Fame & Rhythm

I just need to know we’re okay.

I stop outside the doorway, my heart thumping so hard I can feel it in my throat. I don’t know which version of Dad I’m going to get right now—angry, sad, or disappointed—and honestly, none of those options feels better than the others.

I take a deep breath and step around the doorway.

Dad is sitting on a stool, playing my guitar.

The sight makes my chest ache. Usually, when Dad plays, there’s light in him. His whole face changes. But right now, his eyes are shut tight, and there’s something heavy in the way he’s holding himself. I know instantly this is because of me.

“Dad,” I say softly.

He opens his eyes, looks straight at me, and stops playing. “How are you feeling?”

I shrug. “Okay, I suppose. Still a bit tired.”

He stands and turns away, carrying my guitar back to its stand. I hover in the doorway, unsure whether he’s actually ready to see me, but then he walks over to the white couch and sits down, patting the cushion beside him.

A small smile touches my mouth, and I go over to sit next to him. He slips an arm around my shoulders, leans in, and kisses the top of my hair before letting me go.

“I’m glad you’re okay. Annie, if anything had happened to you—”

“I’m fine, Dad.” I look at him properly. “I’m so sorry I scared you. That was never my intention.”

He leans back into the couch and exhales. “I know, sweetheart. But you have to be more responsible. Anything could have happened. You could’ve choked on your own vomit. Some creep could’ve taken advantage of you. You could have died, Annie.”

And just like that, I finally understand.

I knew he was angry because he was worried, but I don’t think I fully understood how terrified he was. He isn’t just mad at what I did. He’s scared of losing me.

“I am sorry, Dad, and I promise I will never do that again.”

“I know you won’t.” He keeps his gaze fixed on the window. “And I’m sorry I yelled at you so much last night.”

“It’s fine. I deserved it.”

He turns to look at me, and something in his expression makes my stomach tighten. “Yeah, you did,” he says bluntly. “But I didn’t have to yell it at you.”

Honestly, I’ll take angry Dad over this version any day.

Angry Dad is easier.

Sad Dad hurts.

“Where’s Caleb? I hope you weren’t too hard on him.”

That finally earns a smile. “No, I wasn’t. He did the right thing. I can see that now. If I’d found out at the party or at the hospital, I would’ve caused a scene, so it was better that he brought you home first. He left early this morning.”

I nod. “So he stayed over?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t about to let him drive back to London at three in the morning. Hux would’ve killed me.”

I laugh quietly because Uncle Hux absolutely would have. He’s as protective of Caleb as Dad is of Ella and me.

Dad shifts beside me. “I think I need to talk to you about drinking.” I groan inwardly already. “You know drinking too much leads to bad decisions, Annie. You’re seventeen now, and hormones are all over the place—”

“Oh my God, Dad. We do not need to talk about that.”

He tilts his head. “Maybe not, but you do need to understand what can happen if you get so wasted you can’t control yourself or the people around you. What if someone had raped you, Annie? What if you’d ended up pregnant? How would you feel then?”