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I didn’t want to say anything. My vote was an obvious yes. Blaire was here. But I never in a million years would have suggested that everyone come back. In fact, I hadn’t suggested they all come here in the first place. So, I wouldn’t hold any sway on this vote.
Viv shrugged. “I talked to Kris last night actually. She was promoted, and she’ll be entirely virtual. She had been talking about coming out this week. I bet she’d come with us if I asked.”
“Excellent,” Santi said. He was twirling his drumstick over and over and over again.
“Sure,” Yorke said with a shrug.
Santi looked to me. “I know you’re in, bro.”
“I am.” But my gaze turned finally to Michael. We all looked at him. “Michael?”
He was staring at us all as if he’d never met us before. It wasn’t surprise on his face. It was actual rage and disbelief and betrayal. Like we’d kicked his puppy or something.
“Are you all out of your fucking minds?” he asked, low and vicious.
“Course not,” Santi said cheerfully. “We just came up with this idea—”
“Oh, you just came up with it.” He laughed, but it had no humor in it. “Don’t bullshit me. You’ve all been talking about this behind my back, haven’t you?”
“This is the first I’m hearing of it,” I told him.
He rolled his eyes at me as pushed away from the keyboard and stood. “You all knew that I wouldn’t want to come back. So, you worked it out together to ambush me. What am I supposed to say to this? You know I don’t want to be here.”
“It’s not an ambush,” Viv said. “Honestly, none of us have talked about this before. And we’re asking you right now.”
“Sure, Viv.”
“I am not lying,” she said.
“Even if you’re not, you’re all ganging up on me. How did you think this would go? I’m not fucking coming back. We’ve spent enough time in this place. Campbell can write his songs in LA, like a normal person.”
“It was just an idea,” Santi began.
“No, let him say what he wants to say,” Viv snapped back.
“Guys,” I said, standing and trying to mediate the volcano that was about to erupt.
“Don’t come to my defense,” Michael roared at me. “This is all your fucking fault.”
“I didn’t ask you to come out here. I had no idea that Bobby hadn’t asked you if you wanted to come. Don’t put all of this on me.”
“Who else should I put it on? You weren’t coming back to LA. We needed to start working on the new album. What the fuck did you think was going to happen? Cause and effect, man.”
“You could have told him no.”
“Contrary to popular belief,” Michael snarled, “no one gives a shit what the rest of us do. Everyone only fucking care about you.”
I staggered back a step at that. “That is not even remotely true.”
“Campbell is right,” Yorke said.
Viv nodded, and Santi looked aghast that he would even suggest it. I was a part of the team. Yes, I was the lead singer, and I wrote the lyrics, and I was the face of the band. But I was not the only one who mattered. If I were, then I would have told Michael to just fall in line. We were standing here, asking him what he thought, and his response was to attack me.
“I see how it is,” Michael said. He was visibly shaking at this point. “You’re just taking his side. Well, fuck you. Fuck this band. Fuck this fucking city. I’m tired of being treated like shit. I quit.”
Then, he wrenched the door open and stomped out.
28
Blaire
“It’s only going to be a week or two,” I told Honey for what felt like the fiftieth time.
I really didn’t have the energy for this conversation. Honey was the best assistant I’d had. Her independent and headstrong energy were what had endeared her to me. I did not have the time or mental capacity for her to be clingy.
“I know. I know.”
“You have nothing to worry about. It’s going to be great.”
I was too drained from that interaction with my mother for it to be anything else. And then I’d actually said that word…that word out loud to Campbell. We’d hedged around it this last month. It had happened. It was our past. His huge error. The thing I’d sworn I’d never forgive him for. And now, here we were.
There was nothing else to discuss really. It was not going to be the same as it had been the first time. No matter what my therapist mother thought about the definition of insanity.
“Blaire?” Honey said, snapping her fingers in my face.
I jerked backward. “What?”
“Did you hear anything I said?”
“Sorry, no. I haven’t been sleeping great.” I shot her a wan smile. “Just excited about the upcoming trip, I guess.”
