Page 96 of Gabriel's Album

Sebastian laughs. “Not any time soon. We’re still mid-tour, but I feel really good about getting back into the studio once the tour ends.”

Tristan gives her a signal that her time is coming to an end.

“Fair enough. Well, it’s been an honor to talk to you today. Thank you so much for your time, Cruise Control. Congratulations on your Grammys, and all the best for the rest of the tour and your future album.”

She smiles at us, and when the cameras stop rolling, she stands and crosses the gap between us. We all stand as well as she stops in front of us. I’m itching to check my phone, but I manage to hold off while she says goodbye.

“Really. Thank you so much for allowing me to interview you.” The guys shake her hand, and when she gets to me, her smile slips off her face and she says in a quiet voice. “I hope you’re okay, Gabriel.”

I’m not sure what it is about her kindness and concern, but everything comes rushing back to me, and I have to fight against tears again. She didn’t pressure me during the interview, but somehow this is so much worse.

I nod my thanks as I shake her hand, then mumble to the guys, “I need the restroom before the next interview.”

I stride off in the direction of the suite’s bathroom and pull my phone out of my pocket as soon as I’m in private. The text was from my oldest sister, Celeste. I can’t stop myself from crying, because the hope I’d had during the interview that Ariana had messaged me back has been dashed.

I send a generic response to my sister that I’m in interviews today and might be able to call her later, then use the restroom. Once I’ve washed my hands, I pull my phone out again and call Ariana.

Unsurprisingly, my call diverts to her voicemail. “Ari. I keep waiting for my phone to ring, but when it does, it’s never you. Can you please call me?”

I look at my traitorous phone when I’ve hung up. I switch it off, because I can’t do another interview thinking that Ariana has contacted me, then I go back out to sit with the guys again.

The day drags on, with interviewer after interviewer coming in to talk to us. My guilt at being useless in these interviews grows over the course of the day, but it’s nothing compared to the pain I’m feeling. Memories of Ariana flash through my mind, and I wonder what she’s doing at home in Chicago.

“Do we want to do dinner in my suite with Heather?” Harrison asks us as we leave the room after the final interview.

“Sounds good,” Sebastian agrees. “Gabriel?”

“Maybe,” I say.

Harrison sighs. “Please, Gabriel. You two could probably both do with the company. Just…don’t shut us out, okay?”

I meet his gaze and nod. “Okay. I’ll see you guys at seven.”

He looks relieved, and when we reach my room, he says in a hopeful tone, “I’ll see you later.”

I walk into my hotel suite, and the quiet stillness is painful. It feels so wrong not having Ariana here. Even when she was spending time in her hotel room, I knew she was just an elevator ride away.

I lie on the bed and pull my phone out of my pocket to turn it back on. I feel a stabbing pain seeing the picture of her on the screen before I dial her number. “Ari. We’ve been in damage control all day, but I can’t focus on anything; all I can think about is you. Please call me.”

I look through my photos of her again. It feels like forever ago that she was last in my arms, but it’s only been two days. I’m exhausted, and I fall asleep, waking when my phone starts buzzing on the bedside table.

The thrill of thinking it might be Ariana runs through me, and then I’m crushed again when Harrison’s name flashes up on the screen instead. I see that it’s ten past seven as I answer his call.

“Hey,” I say in a croaky voice.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I just fell asleep. I’ll come around now.”

I sigh heavily as I hang up the phone and make my way to Harrison and Heather’s suite. Harrison answers the door when I knock on it, and I smile at him quickly before entering the room.

Sebastian is at the bar getting drinks, Hayden is sitting in an armchair, and Heather is on the sofa. She looks up at me, and her face is pale, her mouth is turned down.

“Hey, darling. How are you doing?” she asks.

I shrug, then drop onto the sofa next to her. She puts her arms around my neck and hugs me tight.

“You know I love you, right?” she asks.

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