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“Sure.”

“Hey, Honey, we’re going to head to Market Street. Want to come?”

She flipped her newly dyed hair, which I was still not used to. Like, could she have gotten any closer to my signature look?

“You don’t have to do that. I can go.” She reached for her keys. “I’ll pick something up for everyone.”

“I think Campbell needs a minute,” I admitted, glancing back at the studio.

“Okay. Then, sure.”

We left Campbell alone to deal with Bobby Rogers and the fallout of Michael’s actions. When we returned, the rest of the band had just pulled back up at the studio.

“Did you get ahold of Michael?” I asked Viv as I carried Campbell’s sandwich inside.

She looked grim. “Uh, yeah. He booked the first flight out of town.”

“Oh God.”

“Yeah. He hung up on me after I tried to convince him to stay. And he wouldn’t answer either Santi or Yorke.”

“Damn.”

We stepped inside and found Campbell on the floor of the studio, staring up at the ceiling. Santi flopped right down next to him, and Viv kicked him lightly.

“Yo,” she said.

He looked up at them with a resigned expression. “Hey.”

“We tried to talk to Michael, but he’s leaving Lubbock on the first flight west.”

“Great,” Campbell said.

Campbell had been on such a high since returning to Lubbock that I’d forgotten how utterly far he could crash when things weren’t great. I’d seen him like this in high school after his mom’s death and subsequently every time he tried to write music and it didn’t work out. I didn’t like seeing him like this right now.

“What did Bobby say?” I asked.

“He said he’ll talk to Michael. That I need to give him this week to let it blow over. When we get back to LA, we can reach out again. He thinks Michael will change his mind.”

“I think so, too,” Santi said confidently.

Viv cringed. “Yeah, but let’s be realistic. What if he doesn’t come back?”

Campbell sat up on his elbows and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“We can’t replace him,” Santi said.

“We might have to,” Viv said.

Yorke nodded. “Yep.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Campbell said. “Michael isn’t gone for good. He could still come back.”

“We need a contingency plan,” Viv argued.

“Why?”

“Because this is our livelihood. We can’t just assume Michael is going to let this blow over. And even if he does, the band might never be the same. We’ve seen this happen with other bands. It won’t be peachy keen after this.”

Campbell wrapped his arms around his knees and looked up at his band. The biggest band in the world right now, collapsing all around him. He looked so lost.

West cleared his throat and took a step forward. “Not to interrupt, but I think it’s a little less black-and-white than this.”

The entire band turned to stare at him then, as if they had forgotten he was even in the room. He flushed at the attention.

“I’ve probably seen more bands fall apart than all of you combined. It was kind of an occupational hazard with what I did in Seattle. A lot of times, the band just continued with one less member, and they’d have someone play backup for the lost member. Honestly, I did that all over the world for the last couple years.” He ran a hand back through his hair, as if to hide that he was shaking, even mentioning it. “I stopped to come to Lubbock with my…brothers. But I already know all of Michael’s parts. In fact, I wrote most of the keys for this album. I can play backup until you figure all of this out.”

Campbell’s stare was solid and heavy. I, for one, knew that it must have been hard for Weston to even offer that, knowing that being in the band meant an entirely different life for himself. But it was brave, and it was the right thing to do.

“Seriously, man?” Santi asked, jumping off the floor and throwing his arms around West.

West laughed. “Yeah, I mean, I can if you want me to.”

Viv arched an eyebrow at Campbell. “It’s an elegant solution until we know more.”

“I say yes,” Yorke conceded.

Campbell got to his feet and held his hand out to West. “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” West asked.

Campbell nodded. “You’ll come to LA with us?”

West looked startled, like he hadn’t anticipated that. “Uh, I mean, I can write the music out for someone else to play there if you prefer.”

“No,” Campbell said automatically. “We want you.”

Viv squeezed his arm. Santi bounced, almost like a little kid. Yorke just nodded.

“Well then, yeah, I can do that.”

Viv put her arm around West’s waist. “You have no idea what shit you just got into.”

West laughed. “I think I know you well enough at this point. I’m happy to help.”

Campbell released West’s hand and came over to give me a kiss. Already, the despair in his eyes had evaporated. The sparkle returned as everything knit back together. So fast, like turning on a light switch.

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