Page 83 of Riot

“The truth of my childhood and who my father and his band were. They weren’t the celebrity idols everyone makes them out to be, nor were they good people. In fact, they were the opposite. They were filled with venom and made into monsters by this industry and those around them who facilitated their drug and alcohol use, as well as other needs that haunt me, even to this day.”

“Fallon, what do you mean by that?” she asks.

Taking a deep breath, I clutch Kage’s hand tighter, glancing at him for a moment for his strength before looking back at her. “My father and his bandmates abused me throughout my entire childhood.” There are some gasps from the crowd, but I don’t slow down. “My father and his band threw lavish parties that his entire circle and management not only knew about, but encouraged. They plied models, singers, and underage girls and boys with drugs and alcohol to try to get them addicted, and then they would pass them around like toys and share them between the band and their entourage to celebrate a win or commemorate a loss. If you tried to speak out, you were either paid or threatened. Everyone at those parties was complicit with the rampant sexual abuse and predatory behavior, and most of them are sitting in the crowd today.”

There are more gasps and some protests. I ignore them, focusing on the interviewer who has turned pale, her eyes wide with horror.

“Many of the label’s managers, models’ managers, and assistants knew, and they took part and got paid for it. I have spent years battling with depression and PTSD from what these parties did to me. They have shaped my entire adult life. I was ashamed by what happened and horrified by my own memories.” I take a deep breath. Something about speaking this aloud is almost . . . freeing.

I have depression, and I have struggled with it for a really long time—long before I even gave a name to those thoughts inside my head—but I’m not ashamed anymore because I know I’m not alone, and if I can make one more person feel that way, feel seen and understood, then I will speak until my voice gives out. I have depression, and it doesn’t make me different, unlovable, or unable to achieve success or a life. It just makes me who I am.

“It took me a long time to realize I have nothing to be ashamed of. I was a child, a kid who should have been protected. Instead, I was hurt by the people I should have been able to trust most. When I heard the docuseries was being made, I knew I could no longer remain silent. Doing so made me part of the problem, not the solution. I couldn’t sit back and allow more lies about my father and his friends to spread while the survivors remained gagged and silenced.”

“It’s a lie!” someone screams.

I don’t falter. “I’m not the only one. I’ve been busy these last few weeks, meeting with people like me—survivors of these horrendous parties—and they are here today to share their stories and prove what happened back then. These are rapists and abusers. They are terrible people, and you hail them as heroes, but it will stop. I won’t let others be hurt by their memory.”

I look at the wings and nod, and one by one, everyone I spoke to enters the stage. I introduce them as they stand behind me, and then I look into the camera. “Some were victims, and some are witnesses who have lived with the regret of not speaking out sooner. Each has the same horrific stories to tell, and it has gone on too long. This world we live in is broken and ruined. The rich are allowed to get away with whatever they want, and it has claimed lives and stolen innocence. Men have been allowed to get away with this for too long, and today, I say enough is enough. I stand with these survivors, and I will shout the truth from the rooftops. I won’t let this world forget or turn a blind eye, not anymore, but don’t just believe me.” I turn and nod, sitting back with Kage, and we listen to stories just like mine.

They share horrific tales of abuse that have my eyes filling with tears, the pure agony and grief in their words connecting with my heart. It’s raw and unadulterated, and no one could ever doubt this is real, but I know they will, so when Poe looks at me and nods before stepping back, I turn to the cameras.

“If these stories aren’t enough proof, then maybe this is.” We all turn to the screens. “Some took videos—for fun or blackmail, I am not sure. I refuse to show you footage of anyone here, but I will show you the ones I’m in. I don’t care if it disgusts you or makes you feel pity for me. All I need is your anger. Watch these and tell me this is all a lie.”

Kage holds me tighter as the first video loads. When I first saw it, I was sick, but I know it’s important. I was around fourteen at the time, still in my school uniform as I tried to do schoolwork while a party went on around me. It’s a CCTV shot, and as we watch, my father’s bandmate, Westie, doses me with drugs and then pulls me on top of him for everyone to see. We cut it there and load more, of other parties and other angles.

When I look around the room, I see even the cameramen crying, and one even throws up.

“These are just some of the videos we have. There are explicit ones that show the faces of those responsible for sexual assault and pictures taken of victims and their abusers. I won’t show them, but they will be used as evidence. I have spent my entire life afraid of this getting out, but I’m not afraid anymore because living in that fear gives our abusers power, and I won’t do that for another fucking second.” I turn to Louise.

“Fallon.” She stares at me, tears streaming down her face. “I?—"

“It’s okay,” I tell her, knowing she’s lost for words. “My own mother knew about this and did nothing, neither did anyone else. It was allowed to happen, and it’s still allowed to happen. The truth is out now, and it will snowball. The internet is currently being flooded with files we collected, including money trails, pictures, and testimonies. They can’t be taken back or hidden, regardless of anyone’s reach or power. We are free. We aren’t just victims, we are survivors, and today, we tell our stories. I’m tired of being cast as your villain just because I’m angry and a woman. You can move on without forgiveness, and that’s what I plan to do—move on and not hide. I won’t give them an inch of power over my future. They have my past, and that’s all. What we need is change, in our name and theories.” Evelyn’s and Lennie’s faces show on the screen.

“And consequences for those who are sitting in the crowd, knowing they either let this happen or took part, or those watching at home who are scared their faces will show. Even my father, who is applauded even in death, should be forgotten. All the information I’ve gathered, along with my witnesses and lists, will be handed over to police after this broadcast is finished,” I inform them, eyeing the crowd. “I came here to tell my truth, the one you were all demanding through that docuseries, but also to keep the people I love safe.” I glance at Kage. “To keep the other survivors like me safe, so what happened to Evelyn won’t happen to us.”

“You are suggesting they killed Evelyn Mitchel?” Louise whispers. “Who?”

“Yes, to silence her like they tried to silence me.” I take a deep breath. “I’m aware this is a lot to take in?—”

A noise has us all turning. It’s Westie, and he’s on his feet in the crowd. I didn’t know if he would come, but he did, and there he stands, full of righteous fury. His face is flooded with panic, as he knows his reputation and life is ruined. “You are destroying our lives, you bitch!” The crowd gasps as he rushes past the cameramen, pulling a knife from his coat, and my eyes widen in horror as screams fill the air.

Cameras topple over as people rush forward.

Time seems to slow, and I realize my mistake.

I thought I was safe now, but I was wrong.

His eyes are narrowed and enraged, and I see my death in his gaze. He’s taking me down with him.

I was once his little princess, his dirty little secret, and it seems he’s willing to kill to get his revenge. I have no doubt he was behind everything. He might have had help, but he’s the one here, barreling toward me.

I don’t look away. I can’t. If I’m going to die today, I will look my murderer in the eye. I will let him see my fury and my legacy that he can’t stop, even if he kills me. What I forgot about, though, is Kage.

He grabs me and turns us, covering me with his body just as Westie leaps at us. I stare up into his dark eyes as he jerks, wincing. The crowd screams, and I hear people running, including our guards, as Kage jerks twice more.

“Die, you fucking bitch!” Westie screams. “You stupid fucking whore. You deserve—let me at her!” I peek over Kage’s shoulder to see him being dragged away. “She fucking deserved it! She fucking asked for it. She wanted us. They all did! We were rock stars!”

“Kage,” I whisper, looking up into his eyes, my hands going to his cheeks as he swallows.

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