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“How’s Zoe doing?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
“She’s awesome.” She smiled warmly as she thought of her daughter. “I asked my parents to watch her for a couple of days, so I could come to support Ryder. I thought it was important to be here with him.”
“I’m sorry for all the trouble Ryder and you are going through because of the damn article.” Their lives had become collateral damage in this whole mess.
Talia waved a hand, dismissing my apology. “Don’t worry about us. As long as Ryder and I have each other, we’ll be fine. How are you holding up?”
I sighed, running a hand through my messy hair. “I’ve been better, but thanks for asking.”
She paused, studying my face with concern. “We’re all worried about you, Ghost. I know Remi hurt you, but we’re here for you.” Her hand settled over mine, squeezing gently. “If there’s anything Ryder or I can do, you know you only have to ask.”
I nodded, my throat tightening at her kindness. “Thank you. That means a lot.” When I finally met her gaze, the understanding and compassion in her eyes nearly undid me. I cleared my throat roughly before I continued. “I’ve been thinking about my stepbrother a lot. I miss him. Sometimes I feel so lonely. But it’s nice to know that my friends care about me.”
“You’re not alone, Ghost.” Talia brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “It must be hard for you — having his suicide out in the open like that.”
My stomach twisted at the reminder, old guilt and sorrow welling up anew. I looked away, jaw clenching. Some wounds never fully healed, even after all these years. “It’s not something I ever wanted to be public knowledge. It’s a painful part of my past, not tabloid gossip. But we’re all dealing with our own hellish versions of that, thanks to Remi.”
Talia studied me, concern etched into her delicate features. “I’m glad the five of you have each other to lean on. You’ll pull through this. Greyson’s reeling from the aftermath too, you know. And he’s all alone.”
“Greyson?” The mention of Greyson’s name sent a spike of warmth through the icy numbness inside me, immediately followed by a stab of guilt. He’d reached out to me repeatedly since Remi’s article came out, and I’d ignored each call and text. Not because I blamed him for Remi’s actions — I knew he’d been just as blindsided as me — but because the mere thought of talking to him made the ache of loss and betrayal flare to life once more.
“He’s been really hurt by everything that happened as well,” Talia said, her voice gentle but insistent. “You know he’s one of my best friends, right? I’ve spoken to him on the phone, but I can’t even visit him without feeding the flames of the rumor mill. He’s going through a lot right now, more than any of us can imagine.”
I hesitated, guilt creeping in. Greyson was dealing with even more fallout than I was, and yet I’d been avoiding his calls. “Greyson’s called me, but I haven’t answered,” I confessed.
“Maybe you two should talk,” she suggested gently. “It might help both of you to heal. Remi betrayed him, too. He could use a friend who understands right now.”
“Maybe,” I mumbled, my mind racing with the thought of reconnecting with Greyson.
“He’s a good person. I know it’s hard to trust people right now, but you can trust him,” Talia insisted, her eyes locking onto mine with intensity. “He’s been really shaken up by this whole thing.” She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip before adding, “I know he really ... respects you, Ghost. Talk to him.”
I looked into Talia’s eyes and saw the sincerity there, urging me to take that leap.
“Thanks, Talia. I’ll think about it,” I murmured into her hair as she hugged me tightly before climbing out of the car.
I thought about Greyson during the car ride to the hotel, mostly remembering our night together with Remi. When I got to my room, I picked up my phone to call him.
Was he feeling just as hurt and lost as I was? I’d seen clips of some of the media circus surrounding him, and I wondered how he was holding up. Guilt washed over me. I was such a coward. I was dealing with my own shit, but I should have answered his calls.
I sank onto the end of the bed and rubbed a hand across my face. Quite suddenly, I realized that calling wasn’t enough; I needed to see him in person. The more I thought about it, the more urgent it seemed, and the more determined I became to make that happen.
Instead of calling Greyson, I called our tour manager, who picked up on the first ring. “Darren, I need to fly out to L.A. as soon as possible. Find a gap in our schedule and make the arrangements so the tour isn’t affected.”
He sighed. “Shit. This is important?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t. Get me at least four hours in L.A. Make it happen.”
“Alright,” he grumbled. “Whatever the fuck you’re doing, you’re taking Bishop with you.”
Two days later, I was boarding a plane to L.A., my heart pounding with anticipation. I’d only told Knox where I was going, and he seemed to think it was a good idea. My mind raced at the thought of seeing Greyson again.
As the car pulled up to Greyson’s house, I noticed the chaotic swarm of paparazzi and reporters surrounding the entrance. I pulled my hood up and put on a pair of sunglasses before I stepped out of the car. Bishop got me through them without incident, though I could hear the mob erupting into chaos behind us as they realized someone had slipped past.
The adrenaline coursed through my veins as we finally approached Greyson’s front door.
Opening the door with a look of disbelief on his handsome face, Greyson stood in the doorway, clearly taken aback by my unexpected visit. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly with surprise and concern.
“Can we come in?” I asked urgently, glancing over my shoulder at the ever-present paparazzi. Nodding without hesitation, Greyson quickly ushered us inside, closing the door firmly behind us.
