Page 61 of Take My Hand

I texted Vinnie the day after Carter came over for the photoshoot and asked if he could squeeze me in. When I went in and told him that I wanted a cover up and not a fresh piece, he was surprised. But as hard as he pressed me the entire session to try to get me to reveal the real reason I wanted it covered since he didn’t buy the lie that I told him I was just sick of it, I didn’t voice it out loud that I hated the way Carter cringed when she looked at it. At something on my body.

“It’s on your back, you idiot. You never even see it.”

He’s right. But I wasn’t about to tell him I was covering it up because I hated the way Carter reacted to it.

I notice Arun sitting on an armchair in the corner, phone in one hand and his suit jacket in the other. It’s too damn hot to be wearing a suit, especially to a music festival like this, but I’d bet that even on the weekends, lounging around his high-rise, Arun would still be rocking his signature suits.

His bald head shines with a light sheen of sweat that he dabs away with a pocket square. Rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, he exposes his forearms that normally are already a golden shade of brown but have deepened even more over the summer months. An expensive watch catches the setting sunlight and I lean closer to get a better look at it.

“Nice watch,” I compliment him, attempting to suck up a bit.

By the way his eyes basically shoot a laser into my forehead, I’d say it’s not working.

I missed the interviews we were supposed to have before our set. And we are scheduled to go on in just a few minutes, so I really cut it close.

But I just couldn’t drag myself out of bed. Carter kept asking me if I needed to get going and the answer was yes, I did. But as I laid there, mind silent and perfectly content, I started to wonder if I really did need to go.

The guys could handle a couple of interviews without me, and honestly, how does it matter anymore? It’s the beginning of July and we have only a handful of shows left between now and the end of the summer. After that, we’re done. So why do I need to sit in interviews and pretend like we’re going to do this forever when the expiration is getting closer and closer?

And the tension vibrating through the room is just another reason why I didn’t want to spend more time here than absolutely necessary. Reid’s moody, as per usual. Nikolai looks like he’s already a few drinks deep. Walker is trying to be in the moment, but half of his attention is pulled into his phone because I know who’s on the other end.

So I made a decision for myself finally. Skipping the interviews and showing up just in time to play. I don’t need a warmup; we haven’t done a pre-show huddle lately, and I don’t need to sit in this uncomfortable space when I’m trying to keep my anxiety in check.

These guys used to be my comfort, my sanity.

But now, I just want to crawl back into bed with Carter and shut the world out.

“Care to explain your absence?” Arun asks, lifting a single brow.

I look at my shoes and kick an invisible fleck of dirt around. Disappointing Arun feels like disappointing my parents. He’s been with us since we were teens and while I don’t regret skipping out today, I do regret letting him down.

“Step outside with me for a moment, will you?” He rises and crosses the room quickly, not looking behind him to see if I follow.

Reid says with a dark, humorless laugh, “Not like we should’ve expected you to shoot us a text at the very least. You got good at ignoring us the last couple years, didn’t you?”

My brow creases as I look at him, trying to figure out what the hell he means by that. I haven’t ignored them. I was literally just with them for four months straight earlier this year.

“Christ, would it kill you to not be a fucking asshole for one day?” Walker gripes.

I don’t acknowledge either of them as I cross the trailer to exit, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Nikolai’s chest heave with a heavy sigh before downing the rest of his drink. The two of them must’ve been going at it before I got here. Part of me feels sorry for Nikolai to have to be the buffer by himself, but then I remember the peace I felt only hours ago and the guilt vanishes.

Arun stands with his shoulders back and squared, sunglasses now covering his eyes as I exit and walk down the few steps to the grass. Music booms from the main stage only about fifty yards away that we’ll be playing on in just a few.

“It’s very unlike you to miss something that you’ve committed to without contacting anyone first. So I’d like to give you the chance to explain before I have to launch into my speech.”

I cock a small smile at that and explain to him why I didn’t show up. But I keep it vague when it comes to Carter and what we were actually up to, because as much as I love Arun, he doesn’t need to hear about my sexual exploits. He gets enough of that from Nikolai.

I shift from foot to foot while Arun is silent, taking in everything I just said.

He cracks his neck with a loud pop, before sighing. “As your manager, I should ream you the fuck out for missing a contracted commitment?—”

“What’s the point though?” I cut him off and add in a muttered apology at his glare. “Truly, what is the point of doing these interviews anymore if we're going to be done at the end of the summer?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, his gold watch catching the light. “The point is to still maintain the band image, no matter the expiration. People may speculate but there are no confirmations out there about a breakup. And you not showing up today fuels those flames and takes the attention away from your music, your performance.”

I shove my hands in my pockets, annoyed that he’s right.

“So as I was saying,” he continues with a satisfied smirk notched at the corner of his mouth at winning that round, “you can’t miss these obligations. Especially when you don’t call or text anyone to let them know. I should’ve been your first call, and then the guys should’ve been your second. They were all worried about you.”

---