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"How many cities are you covering?"
"Not sure. Maybe forty or fifty?" I reach for a paper towel and mop the sweat on my brow. There, almost as good as new.
"Did you say fifty?" she cries.
"Uh, yeah. In the next five months, of course."
"Jesus Christ, woman, you’re going to do fifty cities in five months? That’s ten cities in a month—"
"Two cities a week, give or take." I raise a shoulder. "Good thing the label sprung for a tour bus, huh?"
"You have your own tour bus?"
"Yeah, now that I have a band—"
"A band? You have a band and you never told me?" she screeches, and I flinch.
"Ouch, easy, I need to save my hearing, now that I’m earning a living from it and my vocal cords."
"What else haven't you told me?" The lines on her forehead deepen. "You have a band, and a touring bus, and three million followers online. Bloody hell, you’re a certified star."
"You saw that, huh?"
"You mean the three million followers? A little hard to miss. Also, how else am I supposed to know what you’ve been up to? You refuse to keep in touch, don’t answer my calls—"
"Just been busy practicing."
"Bullshit. I'm calling you out on that, Sol. You're telling me you’ve been too busy to text me and let me know you’re okay?"
I flush. "I’m sorry, you’re right, I—"
There’s a knock at the door. "Hold on." I walk to the door and open it to find Rick. He holds out a package for me.
“Who’s it from?”
He tilts his head.
“If it’s from him, I don’t want it.” I’m about to shut the door when he plants his foot in the doorway, “You don’t have to open it; just let me put it inside the room so I can say I delivered it.”
I hesitate, then nod.
He strides in, places it on the dresser, then leaves.
"Who was that, Solene?" Abby asks.
“He sent me a package.” I don’t have to specify who ‘he’ is. We both know who I’m referring to.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” She asks.
“I’m not sure.”
“You know you want to.”
I do, goddammit; I do.The sound of the crowd in the arena reaches me through the closed door. I pale, then glance at the package again. The clapping grows in intensity. My guts churn.
“You okay, Solene?” Abby’s voice is concerned.
My heartbeat ratchets up. My pulse-rate spikes. I’m going to be performing live in front of all those people.Oh, god!Bile bubbles up my throat. I swallow it away.
