Page 81 of Gabriel's Album

“I’m really proud of her,” I say, putting my arm around Ariana’s shoulders and giving her a squeeze.

When we arrive at the Staples Center, we join the line of limousines waiting to drop off their occupants. I am nervous; Ariana’s breathing rate definitely increases when we join the queue. Our car inches forward in the line, and she squeezes my free hand so tightly that her knuckles go white.

“You can do this, Ari,” I whisper in her ear.

“I’m not sure that I can,” she says, staring up at me with wide eyes full of fear.

“I’ll be right there with you the whole time,” I remind her.

I pull her closer toward me with the arm I have draped around her shoulders. We’ve reached the front of the line, and there’s no more time for discussion as the door to our limousine is opened.

Sebastian gets out first, and the woman he brought with him follows without a second thought. She clutches Sebastian’s arm while the cameras flash, pouting her lips and pushing her chest forward. She seems to be enjoying her moment in the spotlight with him.

Hayden gets out next and stands for photos before moving on and leaving room for Harrison and Heather to get out. I can hear Ariana taking deep breaths and releasing them slowly, recognizing her technique for trying to calm herself when she’s panicking.

I know that if she can just do this, it won’t be anywhere near as bad as she’s been imagining it to be this whole time.

“It’s our turn, Ariana,” I say.

I move toward the open door and reach my hand out for hers.

“I…” Ariana trails off, and my blood runs cold.

“Ari?”

I say her name as a question, feeling disappointment flood through me. I told myself not to get my hopes up, but I realize in this moment that I had. I’d allowed myself to imagine a future after tonight where we were together publicly. I should’ve known it would turn out this way instead.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” She shakes her head before breathing out barely audibly, “Go.”

I look into her emerald green eyes. I have so many things that I want to say right now, but no time to say them. I’m acutely aware of the open limousine door behind me. My heart is aching in my chest, I desperately want the future I’d been envisaging, and I don’t think I can have it. Certainly not any time soon.

Tonight was meant to be the best night of my life, and this feels like an ominous start to the event. Rejected by my girlfriend, and probably rejected by the Recording Academy too. I sigh deeply, recognizing that I’m catastrophizing right now.

I love Ariana, and this is her choice, but I have to warn her, “This part of my life will never go away, sweetheart. It’s up to you how you want to handle that fact.”

There’s no time to wait for a response to the hard truth I just served up. So, I get out of the car, plaster a bright smile on my face, and face the media lined up along the red carpet. The world will never guess that I’m feeling anywhere near as hurt as I feel right now.

I pose for photos solo before moving over to the group my friends are standing in. I can’t stand their pitying looks. I can’t stand the stranger in our midst. I can’t stand that this hurts as much as it does.

Thank fuck Sebastian’s woman is standing at the edge of our group, so I don’t need to be near her. I put my arm around Heather and onto Harrison’s shoulder as we pose for a group photo.

Photographers ask questions about the tour and the awards, but I’m in a daze and answer on autopilot. I want to get inside to Ariana, she’s probably freaking out, and as much as I’m hurting, I know that she’ll be upset, and I want to comfort her.

We move along to the next group of reporters, and as we do, Heather says quietly, “She couldn’t do it, I assume.”

I give a single tiny shake of my head, unable to say anything else, and Heather sighs. We repeat the process through two more groups of reporters, but there’s so many left to go. I’m getting more and more agitated the longer this takes, and Heather catches my eye as I’m having my photograph taken with the guys after both she and the blonde woman were asked to move out of the frame.

“I’ll go ahead and see her, okay?” she tells me as we move along the red carpet after we finish with that group, and I feel relief wash over me.

“Would you? Thank you so much.” I smile at her.

“Of course,” she says and returns my smile before walking off in the direction of the venue.

It feels like an age passes in the interminable length of time that it takes us to reach the Staples Center entrance. As soon as we do, I stride through the door and head straight to Ariana, who is being comforted by Heather while she cries. I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me while she continues to cry.

“Hey, Ari,” I say quietly, feeling better now that I’m back with her, even though she’s crying.

“I’m so sorry, Gabe. Do you hate me?” Ariana asks.

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