Page 112 of Forbidden Lyrics

It wasn’t exactly a recommendation, I almost point out, but I bite my tongue before challenging him. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

“And when something doesn’t go according to plan? If someone writes a shitty review about a performance? If the energy isn’t the way you want it to be while on stage? What will you do?”

“I’ll suck it up.”

Frustrated, I dig my fingers into my thighs and try to find an ounce of control. But it’s freaking difficult. “You’re missing my point. Just because we all have our shit doesn’t mean it’s okay to add more shit to someone else’s plate. Marty’s bringing you down. He’s using you.”

“For what? I don’t have anything.”

“You have a healthy relationship with Dad. You have a successful career without needing to call in any favors––”

“Except the one that got us this gig,” Fen points out, his tone bitter.

“You made a mistake––”

“And so has Marty.”

I grit my teeth, knowing I won’t be able to convince Fen about Marty’s true nature. Scratching my tight jaw, I count to ten and mutter, “I’m not going to give Marty a shot. He doesn’t deserve it after the shit he’s put you through. But I can’t control what you do.”

“Good. Because you’re right. You can’t. Even though you're my babysitter for this, I’m not a kid. I can handle my own shit when it comes to it.”

I nod, trying to hide my disbelief with a fake confidence that makes me feel like a shitty brother. Because I don’t believe him. He’s a damn trainwreck. Just like me. Just like Milo. And Jake. And even River before he met Reese.

When did life get so messed up?

“I know, Fen.” I sigh. “You got this. But you’re right about Dad. I haven’t been fair to him. Why don’t you have him come to one of the shows, and we can…talk.”

“You serious?” Fen asks. His brows practically reach his hairline as he looks at me, not even bothering to hide his surprise.

With a dry laugh, I agree, “Yeah.”

“What made you change your mind?”

My attention shifts to the RV before Fen gives me a knowing nod.

“You like her?”

“We’re simply having fun,” I argue.

“You sure that’s all it is?”

“That’s all it can be.” An image of Em flashes through my mind before I shove it aside and shake myself out of it. “I don’t do relationships.”

“You haven’t done relationships. That doesn’t mean you don’t do them.”

“You know what I mean, Fen. Especially in this industry.”

“Just because Dad was shitty at relationships doesn’t mean you have to be. Although, it wouldn’t hurt if you stopped texting Em,” Fen points out, his tone laced with an annoyance that makes me pause.

Confused, I tear my gaze away from the RV and look back at him. “How the hell did you know about that?”

“Dove mentioned it. Why the hell are you still texting her? She left––”

“Did she, though?” I mumble under my breath.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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