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Santi nodded. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Blaire is strong,” West added. He was slumped into a seat nearby, looking solemn.
Only Yorke said nothing.
“She was fucking mobbed the last time we were photographed together. I don’t have high hopes for the rest of humanity,” I growled.
A half hour ago, Micky had stalled recording when he got a call from Bobby. A minute after that, we were all in front of the computer screen, staring at breaking celebrity news on TMZ about Campbell Abbey’s new girlfriend. The picture featured was us standing together in Lubbock after she finished shooting with Nate. We weren’t even touching, but just the way I looked at her…fuck, it was so obvious that I was in love with her.
That all might have been okay, but the headline read, “At Last, We Meet the ‘I See the Real You’ Girl.” I’d slammed my fist into the wall when I read it. My knuckles were bleeding, which was the only damage done.
But my anger, once ignited, was an inferno. I was snapping at everyone. Getting progressively more irritated and terrified that I couldn’t get ahold of Blaire. English had called and was already running interference on the whole thing. It was a disaster. We had a matter of days before we were going to go public, and now, this bullshit.
Controlling the narrative was important. I knew that. And now, we were fucked.
English kept saying it would be fine, but it didn’t feel fine. I wouldn’t feel fine until Blaire was safely tucked into my arms again. Until then, I was going to fucking freak out.
I dialed the number again, holding the phone to my ear and pacing relentlessly. Finally, the line clicked over.
I gave a relieved sigh. “Blaire?”
“Hey,” she said, her voice all shaky and full of tears.
My heart contracted at that sound. “Oh, thank God. Are you okay?”
She was slow to respond. “I…I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
“The news about our relationship broke.”
“I know,” I said on a sigh. “I saw the article on TMZ.”
“Apparently, I’m the ‘I See the Real You’ girl now,” she said, “and your fans don’t like that.”
“What did they do?” I asked, low and dangerous. I didn’t have much interaction with the Campbell Soup girls, but if they hurt Blaire, I would burn the world down.
“Some paparazzi found me based off the videos in my Stories, I guess. And the Campbell Soup girls found me the same way. I was kind of bombarded. I ran away, and I’m hiding in a bathroom.”
“Fuck.” She was hiding in a bathroom. “I’m so fucking sorry, Blaire. I should have been there. I should have handled all of this for you.”
She swallowed back more tears. “Yeah. I mean, yeah, I don’t know.”
“Where are you? Can you send me your location? I’ll come pick you up.”
Santi shook his head in front of me. “Send someone. It’ll be worse if you’re seen.”
“I am picking her up,” I spat at him.
“Campbell,” West said with a sigh, “think about who you are.”
Viv crossed her arms. “He’s right.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“What’s going on?” Blaire asked on the phone.
“Nothing. Santi thinks I should send a car to retrieve you. I was going to drive out there.”
“Your car is recognizable,” Viv argued.
“She’s right,” Blaire said after clearly hearing Viv that time. “Just send someone. I’ll meet you at the studio.”
I hated this. I hated it so fucking much. I couldn’t even safely pick up my girlfriend when she was in distress.
“If that’s what you want,” I told her.
“Please,” she whispered. So small. Not at all the fierce, wonderful woman I was in love with.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said the words for her sake.
“Yeah. I’ll send the location.”
We said good-bye, and then a second later, I had a location. Viv was already on the phone with a car service. I showed her the address, and she had them send over a car to pick her up.
“Thank you.”
Viv touched my shoulder. “I know this feels like terrible, but it’s going to be okay. Blaire knew that this was always a possibility when she came out with us.”
“I just fucking hate it.”
“Price of fame,” Santi said. “Unfortunately.”
“You’ll feel a lot better when she’s here,” West said.
Yorke nodded.
They were right. Yet I wanted someone to channel my anger into. I needed something to make me not want to punch the wall again. I was a caged animal on the prowl. I’d had girlfriends before I got back together with Blaire, but they had all been in the spotlight. They’d all known how to deal with this. We hadn’t even bothered hiding it because it didn’t matter. None of it had mattered.
This mattered.
She mattered.
And waiting for her to get here in one piece was like slowly dying.
When she appeared a full hour later—fuck you, LA traffic—she’d composed herself. The tears were gone. Her eyes were only lined in red. She took one look at me, and a half-smile hit her lips. Something cracked in my chest at that look. Fuck, I loved her.
