Page 102 of Gabriel's Album

“I don’t know that I will be,” I sigh. “I just miss her so much. If she would just, I don’t know, talk to any of us or something, then maybe this would be easier.”

I can feel the tears stinging my eyes and I swallow heavily against the lump in my throat.

Heather looks at the other guys, then back at me as she purses her lips and says, “I agree. It’s not okay, and I won’t hesitate to tell her that if she ever bothers to contact me, that’s for sure. But you can do this, Gabriel. Just imagine the reporters are all naked; it definitely won’t be distracting.”

I manage to laugh at her joke, and Heather continues her pep talk until it’s time for us to leave. We say goodbye to her and make our way downstairs to the hotel lobby.

Cooper and Tristan meet us there, amidst a scene of chaos outside. There are fans with signs screaming our names, paparazzi that I’m assuming aren’t invited to the press conference snapping pictures, plus the regular hotel guests and staff, who have stopped to watch the proceedings.

Sebastian and Harrison flank me as we follow the other two men while Hayden takes up the rear. I’m in the center of this protective circle, which I appreciate because I feel like the weight of everything that’s happening right now is going to crush me.

We walk to the Astor Ballroom, and I can hear the hum of a crowd of voices chattering from the open doors ahead. When we get closer to the press conference, I see the signs for the Waldorf Room nearby. So much has happened since we sat in there on Sunday and wrote a song together. I feel the pain hit me intensely as I ache to go back to that day.

What would I do differently? So many things. I wouldn’t take Sebastian to the lobby when I went to get water for a start. I wouldn’t encourage Ariana to even think about walking the red carpet.

I exhale slowly, because if I could go back in time, maybe I could’ve prevented this. But I know, deep down, that even if I did all that, Ariana would probably still have left eventually. That knowledge is like a knife through my chest right where my heart used to be before it shattered into pieces.

The room falls silent as we walk into it. The room is packed with reporters; they’re sitting in rows of chairs facing a table at the front of the room with six chairs behind it. Quiet whispers reach my ears as we make our way there. I can’t distinguish anything being said, but I can feel hundreds of eyeballs on me, and my jaw tenses as I walk across the room.

Cooper sits at the end of the table, followed by Tristan. I’m in the middle next to Sebastian, who is next to Harrison, with Hayden sitting in the seat at the other end of the table. I immediately pick up a bottle of water that’s on the table in front of me and take a sip.

Tristan says, “Welcome, everybody. We’d like to thank you for coming today. A lot of wild accusations are flying around about Cruise Control at the moment, and we would like to address those rumors, as well as any questions, directly today.”

There has to be over a hundred journalists in front of me. Tristan told us that they’ve come from news outlets all over the world for this.

I clear my throat and unfold the piece of paper I’ve been holding before taking a deep breath and forcing a smile at the people in the room in front of me.

“We are so grateful that we won so many Grammy Awards on Sunday night. It was a wonderful experience that has been eclipsed by an individual who has a grudge against us and has taken it upon herself to spread falsehoods about us.”

I lift my head to look at the room. My jaw tenses, and I have to resist the urge to tell them everything about what a bitch she was. How she was the catalyst for my beautiful girlfriend dumping me. I wince against the pain in my chest cavity and force my expression to clear as I quickly look back down at the sheet in front of me.

“Very little of what she’s said has been true. She was Sebastian’s date for the evening, but that was the extent of their interaction, and he didn’t sleep with her. It is true that Heather asked Sebastian to tell her to leave, but the implication that it had anything to do with her being jealous is ridiculous. Heather was just—”

My voice cracks, and I stop talking for a second while I try to compose myself. I can feel anger at Stacey coursing through me, but I’m also mad that Ariana has left. I miss her, but I’m hurting so badly, and I’m here tiptoeing around everything in front of the world’s media.

There are a few quiet whispers in the room, and I can hear people writing things or typing on laptops. So, I open the bottle of water and take another swig before picking up the paper again.

“My apologies. Heather was just being a good friend. Stacey had been cruel to someone else earlier in the evening who was very close to Heather, and Heather was just protecting both myself and that person. It was Stacey’s own behavior that ultimately led to Sebastian telling her that he wanted to end their evening together early.

“The implication that we are ungrateful or have anything but love for our fans is hurtful. We are truly humbled by the amazing fans we have. We couldn’t do any of this without them. Thank you.”

I stop speaking, and there’s silence in the room as the crowd waits with eager anticipation before Tristan says, “Thanks, Gabriel. We will now be taking questions.”

“Gabriel, you said Stacey was cruel to someone. Was that someone Ariel? And what can you tell us about her?” asks the first person Tristan points to.

I cringe internally because of course they would notice that our statement completely and utterly skated over Ariana.

“Yes, that’s who it was.” I can’t stop myself from sighing, but I work hard to keep my expression as neutral as possible as I continue. “I’d rather not talk about her.”

Truer words have never been fucking spoken. I can’t get her face out of my mind. My whole body aches to be with her again. Not just for sex, but I’d give anything to joke with her and hear her laugh again. Everything is wrong right now, and I’m so frustrated that I had no say in the matter when it came to her leaving.

I manage to choke out, “I’d appreciate you respecting my privacy on that front.”

“My question is for Sebastian. What do you have to say about the claims Stacey has made about you? They’re not very flattering,” the reporter grins at him.

“Lucky they’re not true, then,” Sebastian smirks. “I didn’t sleep with her. Nothing worse than getting a bad review from someone who has no experience with what they’re even reviewing, am I right?”

The next reporter continues the line of questioning. “So, you’re calling Stacey a liar?”

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