Ash smacked him in the back of the head, and Brogan smacked him from the front.
I shook my head, watching them act like fools, and was reminded that this band wasn’t all about me. We were brothers, and we didn’t abandon each other. If I tried to run, I had no doubt they would drag me back, and I’d be grateful for it—except for the part of not having Nova with me.
My fists clenched, and my shoulders hung heavy under the weight of frustration and defeat. No matter how many ways I spun the issue, I couldn’t find an answer. How could I want something so much and not know the first thing about making it happen?
“Sonia will be there,” Aspen said.
“No.” I leveled the most serious stare I could muster. “We talked about this. I said no more tricks, not more jumping through hoops. I’m a musician, and if that’s not enough for people to pay attention, then so be it. I’m done trying so damn hard when our music should be enough.”
“I know. I called management and let them know your ultimatum of walking away if they pushed it. I was just saying. It’s my job.”
“I know,” I answered exhaustedly. “I’m glad they let it go.”
“Me, too.”
She studied me a moment with a sad smile, and I hated it but braced myself for it. If I was going to wear my hurt all over my face and walk down the red carpet, then I’d open myself up to the same scrutiny she gave me.
Maybe I should have accepted the makeup.
“Let’s go, bitches,” Ash announced. “Car is waiting.”
Too late now.
We piled into the back of the limo and opened the bottle of bourbon waiting for us.
Aspen poured us all a glass before holding hers up. “To winning a Grammy tonight.”
“To winning all fucking six Grammys,” Brogan corrected.
Managing a semblance of a smile, I clinked my glass with the guys’ and tossed it back. I should have been on cloud nine, just as pumped as the rest of my bandmates. For the first time ever, we were nominated for six Grammys. We’d only been nominated for our first one last year, and it had only been one. And with all the cheers and laughter around me, all I could think about was the empty spot beside me.
She was supposed to be here, holding my hand. She was always supposed to be here from the very beginning.
A ripple of quiet worked its way through the car until no one said a word, and I looked up, finding four sets of eyes look away as soon as I met them.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Oren answered, snapping back to life, shoving his phone in his pocket.
Everyone rustled, now avoiding looking at me. Brogan put his empty glass to his lips, and Aspen buried her face in her phone.
I looked to Ash, knowing if I pushed, he’d tell me what the fuck was going on. He gave the most forced smile I’d ever seen—more of a grimace than his usual smirk. Now, I really knew something was off.
“What?” I asked more forcefully.
Ash sighed.
“Don’t,” Oren pleaded.
“Fucking, what?” I almost roared.
“Nova posted to Instagram,” Ash explained, passing me his phone.
Just hearing her name hit me, knocking the wind from my chest. I looked at the outstretched phone like a bomb, knowing I would take it but hoping maybe I wouldn’t. Giving up, I snatched it and looked down. It was a Reel, so I hit play. It started with her from behind, her red hair loose and blowing in the soft breeze. Like I already knew, the mountains and valleys stretched beyond her. She looked like she was standing on the edge of the world.
A violin beat played as the camera backed up, and she took off running. It was then I noticed the harness and framing on either side of her. As soon as she reached the end of the bungee jumping platform, a video voice said run, and she turned in slow motion, striking a finger gun pose, smiling wide at the camera as a rock version of the violins played.
She shined with the sun behind her, her hair a fiery halo. Her face lit up with happiness, and I had the biggest clash of emotions—like two tidal waves slamming together. She was happy, and I was happy for her. I’d been worried she’d been harassed like me, despite not appearing in any reports, and here she was enjoying her life—without me. That realization pulled any joy plummeting to the pit of my stomach.
Nova was happy without me.
Fuck. I wanted to stop the car and get out right now. Fuck the Grammys, fuck all of this. Now, I wanted to run away and not look back. I’d imagined her hurting like me, and now this—this slap in the face.