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Or am I just an echo of you?
Mmm
Am I just your echo?
Mmm
Am I just your echo?
39
On the day of the Hyde Park show, there’s a weather warning.
“Heavy rain starting at eight,” Amy reads from her phone. She casts a glance at the sky while Luca tilts her head back to do the same. It’s been a moody gray all day, but now the clouds are turning an ominous lilac color.
Next to Luca, Florence shifts nervously. Izzy looks down at her bass, probably calculating the chances of it coming out of a downpour intact. They’re sitting around a picnic table in the backstage area outside the trailer where Juno and her band are getting ready.
“Don’t worry,” Amy tells them. “Most of the stage is sheltered, and you’re going on at seven. With any luck, you’ll finish your set before the rain starts.”
Florence gives a tight nod. Clearly, the rain is the least of her concerns.
Lacing her fingers through Florence’s, Luca murmurs, “Are you okay?”
“I think,” Florence says, “I’m going to be sick.”
“Hey,” Luca says. “It’ll be all right.”
Florence doesn’t seem to register her words. She’s gripping Luca’s hand like it’s a lifeline as she says, “I’m going to get up on stage and throw up and they’re never going to let us play anywhere again. I shall henceforth be known not as Jeffrey Blake’s daughter but as the girl who threw up in front of thousands of people at Hyde Park. Oh God.”
“If you can still use the word henceforth in a sentence,” Toni says without looking up from her phone, “then it can’t be that bad.”
Luca glances over at her. Toni has been quiet all day—all week, really. Whatever she’s doing on her phone has her shoulders in a tense line.
“Make her sing one personal song and she crumbles,” Izzy sighs. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone have a physical reaction against honesty.”
“I’m going to show you a physical reaction,” Florence says darkly.
Izzy cackles, pleased as always to get under her skin. “I’d like to see that.”
“It will be fine once we’ve finished the first song.” Miray offers Florence a reassuring smile. “It always is.”
Florence doesn’t look comforted.
In an effort to distract her, Luca taps Toni’s shoulder and asks, “What are you doing?”
“Looking for flats around London that I could rent without certain financial ruin,” Toni answers.
At that, Florence abruptly comes back to herself. “You’re moving out?”
“Have to.” Despite the unhappy curl of her mouth, Toni’s voice is completely level. It reminds Luca of the way news presenters sound, droning on in a monotone while they announce the most terrible things. “Esther gave me until a week after tour to find a new place.”
“What,” Izzy demands. “She can’t do that.”
“Yes, she can,” Toni says, setting down her phone. “She was renting the flat alone before I moved in. Ninety percent of the furniture is hers. Her name is on all the insurance stuff.”
“So she’s just kicking you out?” Miray asks disbelievingly. “You were together for two years!”
“There’s no way you’ll find a decent flat in three weeks,” Luca says, wincing when Toni shoots her a glance that clearly reads No shit.
