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When asked about Bellamy, Adira smiled warmly. “Oh, she is such a lovely young lady! My Ezra was so happy when he was with her. They’d be married by now, you know? With babies for me to spoil.”
When asked if she would be happy if Malikai and Bellamy married, her answer was straightforward. “No. He can’t have her. She is Ezra’s.”
When asked about Ezra’s passing, Adira became so workedup that the interview ended here. But I think we have all the information we need. Malikai Irons is stealing his brother’s girl.
“Fuck!” I throw my phone on the couch and start pacing the room.
“Our PR team is working on burying the story,” Cal says. I look up to see the two women have left, and it’s just us.
I nod to acknowledge I heard him, but it doesn’t matter. However fucked up my mother’s motivation for giving this interview was, she was right. I can’t have Belle. She’s Ezra’s.
fourteen
BELLE
“I thinkI’m going to throw up. Or pass out. Maybe have a heart attack and die.”
“Your level of drama is rivaling Cal’s,” Willa says, as she touches up her makeup in our shared dressing room. The guys have their own right next to us. Willa says she always requests her own, so she doesn’t have to deal with the groupies they bring backstage. I didn’t love hearing that and then was immediately angry at myself. Kai isn’t anything to me. He kissed me and has ignored me since.
“Never say that to me ever again.”
Willa just laughs me off before turning around to hug me. “You’re going to be amazing. If you hate it, we won’t make you do it again.”
A knock sounds on the door and Willa calls to whoever it is to come in.
Nate sticks his shiny, bald head through the door. The man is all of five foot three inches, but he gets everyone in their places like a trained prairie dog.
“Five minutes, girls,” he says before immediately disappearing.
I check myself over in the full-length mirror. Willa helped me get some stage appropriate outfits sent over. I’m in a tight-fitting body suit that covers my entire body. I have it zipped halfway down the middle to show off some cleavage. I don’t know what material it is, but it’s black and surprisingly breathable. When I saw it on the hanger, it looked like something I would sweat in immediately.
Willa is in a similar bodysuit, but hers is all black lace and entirely see through. You can see her black thong and the matching black pasties she put over her nipples. I admire how risky she’s willing to dress, but I’d be so paranoid about my nipples accidentally showing that I would miss notes.
The opening act is playing right now, and we can hear them in here. They’re a local band. Mav told me that Kai always has local bands open for them when they tour. I hate having things endear me to Kai even more when I’m trying to be mad at him.
“I think someone needs to tell Nate what five minutes is,” I murmur under my breath as I follow Willa out to the stage.
“It’s been five minutes, babe. Just don’t forget to breathe,” she tells me before sitting behind her drums. I barely heard her over the roar of the crowd.
“This is a terrible idea. Why the hell did I agree with it? I’m an idiot,” I tell myself as I fiddle with the settings on my keyboard. Anything to distract me from the crowd and their probably confused faces. I’ve never played with ShatteredHalo in public, and Cal has kept me out of the press. I doubt anyone here knows who I am.
Oh God, what if they think I fucked my way in? The clashing of Willa’s sticks interrupts my self-deprecating thoughts.
Cal’s velvety smooth voice joins notes from Kai’s guitar and Mav’s bass. The moment my fingers touch the keys and the music I added to their songs joins in, everything fades away.
“It’s a special night tonight, London!” Cal shouts into the mic after the first song ends. The crowd roars and Cal smiles. He’s in his element. “My baby sister, Belle, is joining us tonight and for the rest of the tour!” The roar of the crowd is noticeably less, but I’m happy they cared at all.
I wave sheepishly in the general direction of the crowd.
“Belle is a founding member of Shattered Halo and the genius who wrote ‘Shattered Dreams!’” Cal shouts. That gets a significantly better reaction.
“How about we play so they can see how amazing she is for themselves?” Willa asks the crowd, knowing how uncomfortable I am right now. I shoot her a grateful look, and she winks before clapping her sticks together to start the next song.
We play through the entire set with only a few interruptions of Cal working the audience. The last song is “Shattered Dreams.” Mav told me they always end with it. When I wrote it and we practiced it in the garage as teenagers, Kai sang it with me. Now he just sings it alone, which somehow makes the sad song even sadder.
I play the notes as I watch him. His raspy tone cutting through the blood pumping in my ears. Myfingers dance along the keys without much thought. I know this song as well as I know anything. I don’t need sheet music to play it.
As Kai sings the last line, he turns his head to look at me. If I had any more notes to play, I would’ve stumbled. The pure agony in his eyes cuts right through me. The moment the last word leaves his lips, he takes off his guitar and leaves the stage.
