Page 20 of Riot

I smile at his snide remark.

“Are you and Kage close? You seemed like it last night.” I glance at the photos of us together on the carpet. There’s one of me staring into the camera, smiling, and him looking at me with a loving smile. There are more from the after-party, but I simply laugh—a forced, practiced sound.

“We are friends,” I reply. “Although it’s new.”

“Kage has stated many times that he would love to work with you on some music. Do you see that happening?” Jimmy asks kindly.

“I’m not sure. Kage is a very talented singer.” The crowd goes wild, and I wink. “But you know I like to keep my secrets when it comes to my music.”

“Very true. Speaking of, when’s the next album, Fallon? It’s been a year,” Henry asks, and the crowd cheers for that. “All your fans are begging for new music.”

“My fans are too kind.” I blow them a kiss. “Like I said, I like my secrets, but I have been busy for the last year, and I can’t wait to unveil what I have planned. Until then, make sure to check out the Easter eggs online and see if you can work it out.” There, I plugged the social content like they wanted. I always hated this side of the business. I was never good at it, but I know it’s important.

“Well, we can’t wait. You are the master of music.” Jimmy grins. “Isn’t she?” The crowd shouts their agreement. “Honestly, it’s like being transported into a different world. We even showed some of our older generation your songs, and they said it was like being back in the fifties again with your soulful voice and rhythm.”

“You are too kind.” I giggle, another forced sound.

“You are very talented, but I definitely prefer rock.” Henry chuckles, and I force a fake smile at the barb. Jimmy frowns at his co-host but chuckles like he’s in on the joke. It’s clear he is uncomfortable with the comments Henry is making. I’m betting he won’t last long. Everyone knows Jimmy is in charge around here. Without him, there’s no show, and he doesn’t like his guests feeling uncomfortable. That’s why so many come back time and time again, because he’s actually a good guy who cares, not just about views but the people he interviews.

Henry chuckles. “Okay, okay, enough about music. We all know you are seen with some of the hottest hunks of the year.”

I bite my tongue as images of me with some of the men I’ve slept with come up on screen—ones I never wanted taken. I don’t parade them around. They just like to spin that.

“Some say you are out to have fun after your divorce, so who is the latest conquest? Anyone we know?”

I swallow my anger. “Do you ask everyone who they are sleeping with?” I smile. “Or just women?”

He laughs and leans closer. “Only those with such a wide dating history. I mean, come on, from princes to models. You have us all curious with all those love and breakup songs. Do you like breaking hearts for the music?” I raise a brow. “A joke, of course.”

“I don’t understand the joke. Can you explain it to me?” I retort, refusing to back down since he won’t either. It’s clear he wants a reaction, so he will get one.

Men like him hate to see successful women, especially one unwilling to conform to his ideals and let him rule them so he can feel powerful.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as he chuckles self-consciously. “It’s just a joke.”

“I know, but I don’t understand it. Can you explain why it’s funny?” When he just stares, I pout. “No? I guess it can’t be that funny then,” I mock as his cheeks turn red. “But since you are so curious, let’s talk about it. You don’t want to know who I’m dating, you want to know who I’m sleeping with, and that’s why you asked it like that. You believe you have a right to know my personal life, a right to know who I let in my bed. You act as though whoever I’m sleeping with affects my standing or music. I don’t ask who you’re sleeping with, and you have never asked any men that question nor made remarks about what they are wearing. We have done many of these interviews now, and you need to do better. A woman isn’t defined by the cock she is or isn’t using. I’m a complex, intelligent musician, and I deserve to be treated with the same respect you give your male guests.” He’s pale as I look at the crowd. “I am sorry for the course language, but I didn’t expect to be so attacked during an interview simply for being a woman and enjoying my life, since we all know he wouldn’t dare speak to a man like that.”

“Fallon is completely right.” Jimmy glares at Henry. “I don’t think the way you are speaking to Fallon is appropriate. She has never been anything but kind to us here.”

I glare at Henry as he looks around for some help but finds none. Everyone knows better than to fuck with me.

He’s just another man bothered by what’s between my legs. It won’t change anything. No, maybe not for men, but it will for women. I just showed them we don’t have to be complacent, meek, and silent.

“I apologize if I upset you, Fallon?—”

“No, apologize properly,” I demand, sitting back and crossing my legs. My blue-and-white tweed skirt rises with the movement, and I tap my heel impatiently. I look every inch the elegant musician, with my blouse snug across my chest and my hair perfectly coiffed, and right now, he looks like a horn dog. “That wasn’t an apology. That was laying blame on me, as if I have no right to be upset. You aren’t accepting responsibility. Words have power. You should know that as a journalist, Henry. I demand a proper apology for your disgusting, misogynistic language.”

He swallows. “Fallon, I really am sorry.”

“Better,” I state and look at Jimmy. “I’m sorry the interview took this turn. I was so excited to come here today and talk about what I had coming up.”

“And we are so thankful for you coming, Fallon. I truly do apologize for Henry. It seems we have a difference of opinion on what we want for this show.” He gives Henry a look before addressing the audience. “We are going to say goodbye to Fallon and hope that we see her again.”

I smile, and as the music begins, I stand and shake Jimmy’s hand, his expression warm and worried. “I’m so sorry, Fallon.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” I tell him as I take Henry’s outstretched hand. I squeeze it hard. “I hope I never see you again, but remember what I said. I do not ever want to see you speaking to another artist like that. You might think you are important and can get away with it, but I have my own ways of destroying someone.” I turn and wave at the fans before I head off stage.

I sit in my car, annoyance coursing through me, and I feel my phone blowing up. My social media is off the charts, and I check to see the comments are all in my favor. Even other celebrities are chiming in since it’s trending.

---