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“You haven’t noticed?”
“No?” Taylor was a little oblivious.
“I can only assume it’s the costumes.” I gestured at what I was wearing, although today was tamer than the skirt and fishnets. “I don’t think he’s a fan.”
“There is no assuming. That’s what it is. Piece of shit.”
“He has been a bit—” Taylor lifted a shoulder.
“Don’t sugarcoat it. He was fucking shitty to me a couple of months ago for getting with Lis.” Kingsley met my eyes, clearly waiting for me to say something.
“We’ve had this conversation. I don’t think he was mad about who you are with—”
Kingsley cut me off. “Stop defending him.”
“I’m not defending him.” But I was.
“I’m getting really tired of his shit.”
“He’s been defending you. He’s got your back. I think he’s uncomfortable and doesn’t know how to deal with it,” I said, still trying to figure it out myself.
“But he is avoiding you for wearing a goddamn skirt. Nah. It’s not enough.”
I didn’t know how to explain it to them. “I’m sure he’s trying.”
“Why are you even defending him?” He squared up to me.
“I don’t know.”
“You always have. Maybe it’s time to let him fend for his fucking self.” Kingsley wouldn’t hit me, but we had been in our share of scuffles over the years. All of us had.
It was impossible to travel and spend so much time with people without conflict arising. I think we handled it well, but there had been points over the last decade where some of us weren’t speaking to others. Maybe it was time for another. I didn’t have the energy to get involved. I barely had the energy to exist.
“If you want to pick that up with him, do it. I don’t care. I am leaving it for now. I’m sure he’ll get his head on straight.”
Kingsley scoffed. “Stop giving him free passes. I don’t fucking understand what he did for you to give him the benefit of the fucking doubt so much.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure I’d ever explain it to my brother. He didn’t need the weight of it.
Kingsley held my gaze when I didn’t offer more. “That’s what I thought. I’ll be the first one to vote him out of the band when he takes any of this shit public.”
“He’s had yours and Lis’ back. I can’t believe you can even fucking say that.” I hated being at odds with my brother. “If he doesn’t like my clothes, what is it to you? You don’t have to fight my battles.”
Kingsley stepped closer, intimidating with stature, poking a finger into my chest. “Because we both know what is behind it. And I’m tired of being the one getting dragged by the gossip blogs when I’m not the one that’s the problem.” There it was.
I finally understood. He’d taken it for months silently from every direction about the age gap with his boyfriend, and he hated Royal for skating by.
“He’s not.”
“Whatever.”
Kingsley stalked off to get his gear, and Royal walked into the room and right back out. It was only the second time in years we’d gone on stage without a pre-show huddle.
I wasn’t going to let it take a single ounce of my joy. I looked good in my costume, and I couldn’t wait to see the fan reactions. They’d been excited about my skirt, but I hadn’t known the extent of it. I wanted them to enjoy this as much as I was.
So I took my guitar from Steve and stalked out on stage before the rest of the guys realized. I decided in the moment to start us off completely differently.
I played the first few bars of a song we’d never done live. One I could play by myself while the other guys fucked around. It only took a few of those notes for the crowd to explode.
