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The collaborator I’d worked with over a month ago had finally posted his video. And it had blown up. It had blown me up.
This was the first time my video for Pretty Girl blew up except times ten. Twenty even. My messages were once again off the charts. So many blue verified checkmarks next to names.
Some creators were going to be in Denver soon and wanted to hook up for a collaboration. Some were asking me to stop in and see them in California, or New York, or Las Vegas. Literally everywhere I wanted to go, there was a creator I could team up with.
And the best part, some were asking about my band and not just me.
I’d had serious bouts of guilt that my TikTok account had taken off when we were still small time here in town. My bandmates never said anything about my videos, or how sometimes people wanted autographs because of TikTok.
Then there was the fact that I could leave at some point. Wherever Astrid and Jonah went, I’d follow.
Since last September, I’d been growing closer and closer to the guys and Astrid, and further away from the band. During practices, we just didn’t cut up the same. We were growing apart.
As much as that hurt, it was more of a bittersweet pain than soul crushing.
I was okay with that.
This was just a chapter in my life closing, and hopefully a brighter one opening with the people who were more my family than my own blood. At least my mother. I’d keep Jonah, Angel, and Graves.
Yeah, for the first time in a long time, I was excited to see what the future brought.
Rhys
A buzzer sounded down the hallway as doors opened that I couldn’t see. I could hear the grating sound of the metal bars as they slid open. That could be my dad. It could also mean they were moving men around from one part of the jail to the next.
I glanced around at the off white painted concrete blocks that made up the walls. The scuffed up table with threats and names etched into the surface. The plexiglass with scratches all over it.
This place was well used and not cared for. Not the way Stan Bennett was used to.
The door on the other side opened and he walked in. His hands were cuffed, and he wore the orange jumpsuit people see so much on television. I’d never really thought about it, but I was surprised that was true.
There was a little truth in all the movies though, wasn’t there?
“Son,” Stan greeted me with a grave nod of his head.
He’d been mentally beaten down. I’d never seen him so…defeated. Yet, he still had the same entitled air that meant he believed he wasn’t really in that much trouble.
“Dad.”
“Not that I don’t want to see you, but I’d rather you didn’t see me in this place. What brings you here?” He pulled the plastic chair away from the desk and sat down with his usual grace.
“Astrid’s dad has stopped me three times in the last few weeks asking about you.” I didn’t care. Astrid didn’t care, but he was starting to become obvious in his…affection for my dad.
And part of me, wrong as it was, didn’t want that for my mom. I had no idea if she knew about their illicit love affair or not, but that wasn’t the way I wanted her to find out.
What was worse than knowing your spouse had cheated on you?
That they had an emotional connection with that person. That was worse.
Dad cursed under his breath. “What did he say?”
“He’s concerned about you. Has tried to send you letters that go unreturned. Wanted me to pass you a message to call him.” I stretched my legs out under the desk until my toes hit the wall.
“I’ll call him on my next round. I was trying to distance myself for his sake and yours. But I also can’t have him making a scene.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe her dad would care so much as to try to pass him a message.
“I don’t care about me. I care about mom.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “She knows exactly the life she married into. Don’t let her fool you into thinking she didn’t.”
