Page 13 of Diva Pop

“He’s not going to dump you, Jett. There’s no way. The band would suck without you.”

And that was why Jett never complained when Tory touched him, even if it did make him feel uncomfortable. Tory was a true friend and genuinely decent person. He was pretty much the only person he’d ever been close to who treated him that way.

“Thanks, Tor.” He sighed. “Sorry I snapped at you. Between you and me, this situation is stressing me out more than the screaming matches with Bob and the incessant sniping from Paul.”

While Jett went about wrapping his own damn knee, Tory took a seat on the bench next to him. He leaned in and lowered his voice.

“Yeah, and what’s up with Paul being so quiet? The only time he said anything was that one remark about the band. But when I first showed up, he was the only one here and he wouldn’t even look at me. Totally blew me off when I said hello.”

Jett gave a one-shouldered shrug. “We always ignore each other, so I can’t speak to that. Maybe he’s watching how things play out before making his move.” Jett froze. “Fuck.”

“What?”

“Goddammit!”

Tory huffed. “What?”

Jett pressed his lips together. “I bet that fucker is watching and waiting. He’s hoping I’ll fuck up so he can swoop in and…” Trying to keep track of his own shenanigans was hard enough, but trying to monitor Paul’s? He wasn't sure he could keep up. Sometimes being in the band was like counting cards in Vegas. You couldn’t look away for a second or all would be lost. “Well… He’ll swoop in all right. I’m just not sure yet what he’ll be swooping.”

“I’m worried about you, Jett.”

Jett stretched out his leg, testing the wrap. “There’s nothing to worry about. A couple days of dancing with my knee imprisoned and I’ll be good as new.”

“I’m not talking about your knee.”

Jett narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Oh? What are you talking about then?”

“You’ve got yourself so worked up about Silas and the new band members, that I feel like you’re going to pop a vein. It’s not good for you to be this stressed out.”

Jett whacked Tory’s arm. “Come on. I’ve survived many a vein-popping moment with Bob and Paul, and that’s been over the course of years, not a couple of days.”

“That’s just it. It hasn’t even been a full two days yet and you’re already frothing at the mouth.”

Jett shot to his feet. “I do not froth, thank you very much.”

Tory reached for him. “Jett, don’t take offense.”

“Whatever.”

Jett whirled around, making as quick of an exit as he could. He wasn’t completely mad at Tory, not when a small part of him knew he was right, but he was also quite done with the whole topic. It was fine. It would all work out. Maybe he could start playing it close to the vest, like Paul.

Jett’s stomach sank. He wouldn’t know how to be the stealthy, silent observer if his designer shoe collection depended on it.

By the time he made it back to the studio, Veronica had arrived, and Paul the giant faker and his evil twin were fawning all over her. Jett doubted either of them had ever heard of her before today. Fuck me, yet again. If he hadn’t been so busy being sneaky, he would’ve been there, too.

Determined not to be left in the dust, Jett approached her with a wide, gracious smile with his hand extended. He’d show her warmth and admiration, yet also maintain decorum. His professional, sincere behavior would immediately endear her to him. As Jett passed Crispin, he clapped Jett on the back so hard, his teeth rattled.

“Ah, here’s our injured star now. Is that wrap helping?”

Crispin regarded him with the phoniest expression of concern Jett had ever witnessed. The urge to maim was real.

“Injured? Hardly.” Jett laughed as if it were all so freaking hilarious. “I’m merely being extra careful that I don’t overdo it.” He went back to graciously greeting Veronica. “I’m Jett.” He broke into a wider smile. “And I’m so honored to have the opportunity to work with you.”

She took his hand, encasing it in both of hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She let him go then glanced down at his knee. “How long have you had an issue with your knee? I believe I read somewhere that’s why you had to leave ABT.”

If one more fucking person mentioned his fucking ballet career that ended four fucking years ago, he was going to lose his entire mind. Jett fought his mouth muscles, forcing them to remain in smile-position.

“Well, for the rigors of being a principal dancer in a world class ballet company, yes. At the time I wasn’t able to maintain the punishing demands that are required to lift my partner and such.” He let out a light laugh. “But clearly it hasn't been an issue while I’ve danced in Three Trick Pony. I’ve never missed a show or rehearsal. It’s truly been a non-issue since leaving the company.”

She smiled back. “Well, good. But for today, I’d like for you to take a break while I work with the rest of the guys. You can prop it up on one of the chairs and watch, okay? That way you won’t fall behind.” Veronica gestured for everyone to follow her, although Jett knew he wasn’t included. “Come on, let’s get started. I have some moves I want to try out, and we can start working on placement at the same time.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, Crispin tossing a victory smirk Jett’s way before trailing behind her.

Jett balled his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

Let the frothing begin.

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