Page 16 of Cosmic God


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“Well, it’s not how I wanted to do the introductions, but this is Emmy Winters. She’s a ghostwriter. I’ve asked her to spend the next six months on tour with us, getting your stories and writing the band’s autobiography. She comes highly recommended.”

“Welcome, Emmy.” Mav grinned at her, flashing his heartbreaking smile he liked to offer women. Watching him turning on the charm made my jaw clench and my hands twitch at my sides, although I had no idea why I felt so protective of this bruised and battered stranger in front of me. I decided it was because she’d been attacked at one of our gigs or maybe it was my newfound sobriety, heightening my emotions. Whatever the cause, I consciously loosened my jaw before someone spotted it.

Addison started the introductions. “You’ve met Tanner, Emmy, and this is Maverick. Watch him. As you might notice, he’s a charmer. Then we have his twin brother, Grayson, and their younger sister, Frankie. At the end is Rylee, Tanner’s assistant. If you need anything or our rock stars give you any problems, let her know and she’ll sort it for you. Tanner tells me that he’s asked Matt to keep an eye on you, which I think is a good idea. Just tell him if you need to leave a venue or the hotel or if you want to go anywhere that’s not on the itinerary, so he can make sure he can keep you safe. We have a lot of staff around, crazy fans, and the press, so he will protect you from it all.”

“Guys, you will all have regular appointments with Emmy, so she can interview you before she starts writing your sections of the book. Please be open with her. This book won’t work if you’re not 100% honest and while I understand some things might be hard to talk about, I need you to open up. Think of the book as therapy. Get that shit off your chest.” I could feel her eyes on me as she spoke, meaningmypast,mybaggage,myshit. “Emmy will be traveling with us for the next six months, but one stipulation in her contract is she can’t be seen with us. I don’t want anyone getting wind that we’re writing a book and beating us to it with some unofficial pile of crap. This book is a huge deal. A way to win over the press, keep you high on this wave of popularity once the tour ends, but mostly to heal some of the damageallyour recent behavior has created. You need to work together on this and make it spectacular. Have you all got it?”

We all nodded.

“Anyone got any questions for Emmy before I let her tuck into her breakfast and you lot can go do your soundcheck?”

“We’re just going to talk about the band and how we got started, right? When Addi says therapy and unpicking the past, you don’t want us to talk about growing up and all that bollocks, do you?” I knew I’d already agreed to this book, but now that it was happening, it all felt too raw. I hated thinking about my mum and my past, even for a second, so the idea of having to talk about it felt like picking a scab and reopening a lifelong wound that I’d desperately tried to ignore for years. I raised my eyebrow while Emmy took another sip of her coffee before she spoke.

“That you’ve even asked that question, Tanner, makes me believe there is a story there that you don’t want to share, and that’s where the unpicking needs to start. So, yes, I need to know it all. Even if it doesn’t make it into the book. In order to write your story, I need you to tell me everything. Warts and all.”

“Fuck that. I’m not going there, Emmy. I’ll tell you the bare facts, but I don’t need you digging around inside my head, getting me to tell you all about how fucked up my life was before Lori and Phil took me in. You should be aware of that from the start.”

I turned to stalk out of the room, ready to slam some doors to ease my anger at this whole situation.

“Tanner.” A soft voice engulfed me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention from the delicious sound of my name on her lips. “Don’t fight this. I’m really good at my job, and I will have you spilling your secrets to me before you even realize they’ve left your mouth.”

“Over my fucking dead body,” I yelled, slamming the door and storming to my suite to drown out the demons in my head. It was only when I stood alone inside the space that I remembered I didn’t have a way to silence them anymore. I promised them no drinking and no drugs. And no matter how much I wanted to sink into that emotionless space being drunk or high gave me, I’d finally realized that I would lose everything. So, instead, I decided to drown the memories and monsters in my head in a more literal way.

Chapter 6

Emmy

IknockedsoftlyonFrankie’s door. This was my job, and it was the only thing in my life that I was confident doing. I was really good at it, but working with new people made me nervous. I had to get them to trust me, to let down their walls, and that was easier for some people than others. Sometimes I wondered if my desire to make myself invisible made it easier for people to open up. They realized I wasn’t a threat to them; just a bystander, peering in at their story temporarily.

As the only female Cosmic God, I thought I’d begin with Frankie, hoping she’d start to share the band’s story, making interviewing the other three easier.

“Come in.”

I pushed open the door and stepped into Frankie’s suite, searching the giant space for where the sound of her voice came from. I found her sitting in a deep red wingback chair in the bedroom, staring into a lit vanity unit, while two women did her make-up and curled her long jet-black hair.

“Sorry, Frankie. I can come back if I’m—”

“No, Emmy, please,” she interrupted excitedly. “Come in. Sit. Let’s chat. I hate all this fuss, anyway. I mean, I’m behind the drums, so I’m not sure anyone’s even paying me any attention. They have much better eye candy in the boys, right?”

I laughed along with her, but her words interested me and I made a mental note to pick up on them later.

“Make yourself at home and ask away. I’m an open book.”

I perched on the edge of a cream chaise behind her and turned on my recorder, so I didn’t miss a thing she told me. Then I pulled out my notebook and pen and the list of questions I had for her. She stared back at me through the mirror and nodded, encouraging me to begin.

“Let’s start with the easy questions. How did you get started in the band?”

“That is easy. I started learning the drums because I wanted to be cool like my brothers. Being the third wheel in their twin life was hard. I always felt on the outside of their bond. I thought the drums would give me a way into their secret club. It didn’t work. They just saw me as their drum playing, annoying sister. In the end, Mum forced them to let me practice with them. I don’t think they or she ever thought I’d be as good as I turned out to be. She made them let me join in their rehearsals with Tanner to stop me from moaning. I practiced until my hands cramped up and my ears rang from the noise, but it all paid off. I spent so much time with the twins and Tanner that I learned to read them without them saying a word. They searched for other drummers as the band got more popular. I mean, having your little sister hanging around wasn’t exactly good for their street cred, but they couldn’t find anyone who fit as well as me. I was eighteen when we got our recording contract and I finally felt like they’d accepted me as part of it and didn’t just see me as the hanger-on. Although, there are still plenty of days when I feel like that spare wheel, chasing after them for their acceptance.”

Shaking her head, she laughed. “Addi was right. You’re good, Emmy. You make me want to tell you my darkest secrets.”

“And what is your darkest secret, Frankie?”

“Honestly, it’s that I still feel like that thirteen-year-old. Desperate to fit in with my brothers and their cool friend. When Tanner came to live with us, their bond got stronger and my craving to feel like I belonged got worse. I don’t think I’ve really got over that feeling. I think I’m always working twice as hard or practicing for twice as long to show them I’m serious about this, but secretly wondering when they will throw me out and replace me with someonebetter.”

She paused while the makeup artist painted her lips blood red, getting her to blot them on a square of white tissue.

“Have you ever spoken to any of them about it?” I asked.

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