The door to Aiden’s bedroom slams open and bangs against the opposite wall. We all jump as the bassist steps into the room, looking pale and shaky. I half expect him to tell us he’s seen a ghost.
“Man, did you do mushrooms again?” Ryder shakes his head. “Last time it took you two days to come down.”
“No.” Aiden swallows hard. “I’m totally sober.”
Linc rolls his eyes. “Then what’s with the dramatic entrance?”
“I just got off the phone with one of the scouts from Route 66 Records.”
The air goes still.
“And?” Lincoln prompts, abandoning his coffee cup.
“They saw our set last night.”
“And?”
“They want to sign us.” Aiden’s throat works as his eyes sweep across Lincoln and Ryder, coming to rest on me. “All of us.”
“No fucking way!” Linc’s grin overtakes his entire face. “That’s amazing!”
“What do you mean,all of us?” Ryder asks.
Aiden is still staring at me. “They want Felicity, too.”
“Mother fudger,” I whisper as all three of them turn to stare at me.
* * *
Ryder’s handis tight on mine as we climb out of Linc’s car and head for the door of the coffee shop where Aiden arranged for us to meet with the scout from Route 66. A grim tension has descended over our small group as we walk inside.
At least the yelling has stopped.
When Aiden broke the news about the record deal, Ryder and Lincoln were at each other’s throats in the span of a minute. Linc thought it was a no brainer that I’d join the band —of courseI’d sign on with them to sing.Of courseI’d want to go on tour.Of courseI’d consider moving to Los Angeles to work on the album.
What kind of crazy person doesn’t dream of landing a record deal?
Me.
But someone like Linc, who’s dreamed of the spotlight for as long as he can remember, can’t possibly understand someone like me, who’s never wanted attention or public recognition. I don’t have to look farther than my own family tree to justify my reasoning. I’ve seen firsthand how fame can destroy a life. From the outside, it might seem like the best thing in the world… nothing but endless royalty checks and universal adoration. But that astronomical success comes with a level of scrutiny and pressure that’s far more of a burden than it is a blessing.
I spent my childhood in a steel cage; I have no desire to trade it for a glass house.
When Ryder told Linc to stop pressuring me, the tension escalated to a breaking point. Thankfully, Aiden managed to diffuse the situation before punches were thrown. I swallowed down the immediate impulse to run and told them I’d go to the meeting, buying myself some time to think of a way to extract myself from this tangled web.
The weight of Lincoln’s eyes is heavy on my face as he holds open the door for us to walk inside. I can almost see the accusation simmering beneath his skin — the outright anger that I somehow hold the keys to the future he’s always wanted.
I look down at my feet and feel Ryder squeeze my fingers in reassurance. I know he can sense how torn up I am inside. Just as I can sense that, no matter how much he’s trying to hide it from me, he’s just as invested in this Route 66 deal as Lincoln.
The guilt inside me grows so overpowering, it’s hard to breathe.
I might be able to deal with disappointing Linc and Aiden. ButRyder?
I don’t think I could stand to see the look in his eyes if I dangled his dreams in front of him, only to snatch them away at the last moment. I don’t think I could stand myself, if I did that.
Aiden spots the talent scout — a chic-looking woman in her early thirties with an asymmetrical auburn bob and long, pin-straight bangs. She’s dressed in stilettos and a sleek white suit I’d never in a million years be able to wear without staining. She’s speaking rapidly into her phone, but hangs up when she sees us walk in.
“Hey.” Ryder tugs me to a stop before we follow Aiden and Linc over.