The press assumes that, and Roger lets them believe it—any publicity is good publicity.
But I can’t believe my bandmates can’t tell the truth from the press lies. As if the press never lied aboutthem. My jaw clenches at all the swimming thoughts of betrayal, deepening my headache.
“Please stop shouting,” I say as calmly as I’m capable at the moment.
“Scheisse!” Bren shouts. “It’s too late to get to the studio anyway. Get the fuck out of my sight, Karl!”
“Gladly,” I mumble under my breath. This meeting has been a waste of my fucking time. Why did they even drag me out if it was just to yell at me?
One day, I’m going to explode, and Bren won’t know what came his way.
All empty threats.
At the end of the day, I want to impress him. He was my hero. The whole band was, before I joined them. Getting through auditions and being picked was the closest experience to winning the lottery I will ever have.
But I’ve done nothing but disappoint them since I joined.
Story of my life.
Big fucking disappointment. Never good enough. And just like everyone else in my entire fucking life, I’m waiting for them to toss me aside. To discard me and make way for someone better.
Adrian gets in the elevator with me. “Hey, man, you need to cool it a bit for a while.”
I turn to Adrian. He’s usually the only one who doesn’t gang up on me. He gives the band enough trouble himself. “You too, Adrian?”
“Nah, man. Just . . . I’m not supposed to know, so don’t say anything. But I overheard Bren talking to Milo on the phone.”
Fuck. “They’re talking again?”
Adrian nods and says nothing more. He just did me a solid with that warning. Bren swore he’d never speak to Milo again. But if theyaretalking again, something has changed, and Adrian likely suspects the same thing I do—they could trade him back in for me, if they wanted.
After getting off the elevator from Bren and Fritz’s apartment building, I pull my phone out and call my stress-relief.
“Miss me already?” Sandy purrs into the phone. I just saw her last night. Already, the headache lifts.
“I need to let off some steam,” I say.
Sandy laughs. “I have your relaxation right here, baby.”
“No. Come to my place tonight.”
* * *
My room is notlike the rest of the mansion. It’s neat and orderly. Even after the maids quit from having to clean up after all the parties, I kept up this room. I actually hate messes.
I’ll have to talk to Roger about his plans for me in the band. I’m tired of this lifestyle he’s imposing on me. A lifestyle I have no desire to partake in. And I don’t want to lose my spot in the band to fucking Milo for a half-baked publicity stunt Roger concocted.
What a nightmare.
It’s eleven at night when the doorbell rings. Having no staff anymore, I go downstairs to let Sandy in. She’s wearing an ankle-length winter coat and strappy sandal heels that make me shiver. She must be freezing. But I smile when I meet her face because we both know she’s naked under that coat.
She steps inside, and her first order of business is to shove her tongue down my throat. I need to blow off some steam, so I rush her upstairs to my bedroom and rip the coat off her body.
My mouth curves into a half-smile, finding what I knew I’d find.
“Like what you see, baby?” she asks.
I nod, unbuckling my belt. “Drop to your knees,” I order.