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“What happened?” There is concern in his voice even though Cash is well acquainted with Jack being a dick to reporters.
“Jack being Jack, that’s all. He flaked on the interview.” I pull out a magazine from my bag in an attempt to move on to something else, but Cash is not letting go. Maybe it’s my mood he’s picking up on.
“Why would he do that? Bret’s going to have a hissy fit,” Cash sighs, annoyed.
I wave my hand as if it’s not important. “We got into an argument and he took off.”
“An argument?” I watch as Cash looks across the plane to Jack with a critical eye.
“It was nothing.” The lie slips from my mouth so easily I don’t get a chance to catch it and shove it back inside. Our argument was far from nothing.
“You had to have argued about something significant for him to skip out on the press,” Cash presses and I can’t seem to make myself meet his questioning gaze.
Everything is bubbling inside of me and comes out with an irritated tone that I don’t intend to direct at Cash. “Jack does whatever the fuck he wants. Skipping out on an interview shouldn’t surprise you.”
The minute it’s safe to remove my seatbelt, I pop it open with an audible click and rocket out of my seat, eager to be free. The mini-fridge is full of beverages, bottles of champagne, cans of beer, and seltzer. My eyes roam over the contents and grab a water bottle instead of what I really want.
I turn back to Cash and follow his gaze across the length of the plane to where Jack stews in his seat, staring at me. My eyes widen in surprise and I’m momentarily caught like a fly in a spider’s web. His eyes are intense, like blue flames. No doubt Cash sees this. We all know each other too well. It’s nearly impossible to hide anything. That’s the problem with being stuck together 24/7 while touring.
You can’t escape each other and it’s nearly impossible to hide anything from each other.
The air is stagnant and I feel claustrophobic in this plane. I don’t dare look at Cash because I already know what he’s thinking. I can feel it in the air like static electricity. This push and pull between Jack and Cash is wearing me down. It’s already uncomfortable to work and live as a band but the tension between all of us is giving me anxiety. The waistband of my jeans hangs low on my hips and I reach to pull them up once again. I know I’ve lost weight recently, which isn’t all that concerning because that usually happens while I’m on tour. It’s my mental state that is concerning. All the partying, the drugs, and the shit-ton of angst pulls the wind from my sails, leaving me flailing.
I can feel Cash’s presence next to me even before he speaks. “You told him, didn’t you?” It’s the hurt that breaks me apart.
Defeated, I hang my head and that’s all the confirmation he needs.
“We were supposed to tell everyone together.” Cash’s voice is louder than I’m sure he intends.
“Oh, yes, I know your little secret,” Jack says from across the plane, sitting in his seat with his ankle casually resting on his opposite knee. His face is devastatingly handsome even with the days-old stubble, but it is those critical blue eyes that study my reaction going from beautiful to something deeply ugly. He can be cruel sometimes, but I’ve always excused it knowing it stems from vulnerability. I’d blindsided him with my confession of being married and I did it maliciously. Now he is lashing out.
“What secret is he talking about?” Wade’s innocent question cuts the tension as he looks from me to Jack.
“Ooh, secrets.” Adam claps his hands together dramatically, and I could kick him right now.
Amber stands up, drink in hand. “Are you talking about these two getting married?” she says matter of factly. I bring my hand to my forehead to hide from the firestorm I know will happen at any moment.
“How didyouknow?” Jack asks Amber quizzically.
“I talked to my sister a few days ago,” she explains as if Jack is dumb, but I’m sure it’s because those two don’t communicate at all. “Mia’s Dad called my mom, and then my mom talked to…” she tries to explain but Jack cuts her off.
“I get it, I get it,” he sputters angrily.
I haven’t talked to my parents in a while, aside from the occasional holiday calls that are mostly superficial greetings and awkward silences. When the band became more successful, I think they finally understood what all the struggle had led to. I still threw my life away according to them, but at least I was making money at it. I had finally proved to them that I was able to make a living out of writing songs. When Cash and I got married, I didn’t want to keep it from them and used it as a way to reconnect. Again, I underestimated my mom and she was angry all over again that I hadn’t let her give me a wedding and made me feel guilty because she wasn’t present.
“You didn’t think to say anything to me?” Jack addresses Amber, his eyes telling far more than I’m sure he intended. Even though Amber isn’t facing me, I can almost feel her eyes narrow.
“I thought you already knew.” Amber crosses her arms over her chest, which is a clear sign that things are starting to go south. “Why is this such a big deal? Cash has been salivating over Mia for years now.”
I inwardly groan. Amber is never subtle, and she loves to cause trouble between all of us.
“You got married?” Wade pops up from his seat, looking at both Cash and me with his oblivious innocence to the storm that is gathering.
As if on cue, Adam says, “Just so I got this right, Jack and Mia were together, right?” He looks at Wade for reassurance. “Then Jack married Amber.” He places his finger on his chin, “Now Cash and Mia are married?” Wade was giving Adam daggers with his eyes, and when Adam returns a wide-eyed, innocent crook of his mouth, Wade just shrugs in defeat. No one can argue with Adam’s logic. It is true, which makes me cringe even more. Adam is new to this found fucked up family of ours but he’s not oblivious. He’s also no stranger to fucked up band behavior.
Clearly, Adam doesn’t know when to stop when he finishes with, “This is starting to get a littleFleetwood Mac.”
Jack disregards Adam and asks, “When?”
