Page 70 of Final Serenade

“Frank.” I wrapped my arms around his body and pressed my chin to his bare chest. A lump choked my throat. The thrum of his heartbeat against his ribcage was a wild race. “I’m sorry this happened. Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

His hands moved to my hair. “You’re doing it right now.”

We stood there silent and motionless for a while.

“Cassy, I hate to do this,” he said finally. “But I have to leave soon. I also think I might have been spotted when I went out, so it’s best we fly back to L.A. separately. I’ll have my PA get you a ticket for an afternoon flight.”

My heart sank. I didn’t want him to go, but I understood.

Chapter Eleven

It was everywhere—the New Hall Affinity album that was slated for release in late February and didn’t even have a title yet.In its entirety.Twitter, YouTube, Blabbermouth, Instagram, Facebook.

The world was at war. Social media hadn’t seen a shitstorm of nasties this big in years. The band’s fandom divided into two armies—hardcore supporters who boycotted leaked demos and reported everyone posting unauthorized material and overly enthusiastic, impatient fans who didn’t give a fuck and shared the heck out of unfinished songs.

At first, I wasn’t sure which camp I belonged to. Temptation was a real bitch, but I fought it hard. And my sense of right won. Besides, I’d already heard “Awake.” I knew Frank was going to deliver vocally. I knew Dante was on top of his game. I knew, once finished, this would be another chart-topping record for Hall Affinity. The fact that someone had disrespected the hard work of dozens of people involved in the production of this album only confirmed my fears. Today’s society no longer knew good from bad. Shock value over integrity. The world was full of people who sucked and it saddened me.

Our morning was hectic. Frank and Roman left shortly after the call and I stayed for another couple of hours to pack.

My phone was on fire. Emails. Press releases. Texts with links to leaked songs. There were two messages from Levi. He wanted to know when I was returning from Oregon, because something had come up for tonight and he needed help. Residual chaos consumed my life.

I couldn’t even imagine what was going through Frank’s head at the moment. I didn’t want to.

A car picked me up at around eleven. Heavy clouds hid the mountaintops and snow had dusted the city. The drive was beautiful, and for the first time since Frank and I became a thing, I regretted that we couldn’t be open about our relationship, that we couldn’t just explore outside. I regretted he was Frankie Blade, the paparazzi’s most desired man on the planet, and I regretted I was Cassy Evans, a music journalist on the brink of losing her professional integrity because she’d slept with an artist she’d interviewed. We were the next big scandal waiting to be uncovered, a ticking bomb threatening to go off.

At the airport, a business class ticket waited for me. The man kept his word. He was spoiling me rotten. Another ride had already been arranged when I landed at LAX.

On the way home, I skimmed through my social media apps to get an update on the leak. No source had been found. An official press release with a message from the band, the same one Jay Brodie PR had slipped into myRewiredinbox a few hours ago, was pinned to the top of Hall Affinity’s Facebook page. There were no comments from any of the band members.

Twitter looked awfully angry. A lot of name-calling along with encouraging messages of support from fellow artists. Including Taylor Rinehart. I had no idea how the actress had slid into my feed. I didn’t follow her anywhere on social media, but as I clicked on the post, I realized it was a retweet from the Hall Affinity fan account. My heart skipped a beat. Was it jealousy? Frank had said it himself. She liked the band and she was a decoy.

The separation from him drove me nuts as my brain scrambled to return to reality. Getting the man out of my system was nearly impossible. I wanted to hear his voice badly, and this sudden need scared me more than anything in the world. But I understood he probably didn’t need another distraction right now. And I would be exactly that. A distraction. Like he’d become for me.

At the apartment, Ashton greeted me with a concerned face. “Your boyfriend just hit BuzzFeed’s front page.”

My initial response was almost,he’s not my boyfriend,but before I could say it out loud, something stopped me—Frank’s words. We were in a relationship. He’d put a label on it first.

The early morning and the travel had exhausted me. I only had enough strength to drag my bags to the middle of the living room, and that’s where I left them. My feet hurt, and so did my back, although the latter was due to the non-stop sex.

My brother sat on the couch with his feet on the coffee table and stared into his laptop. He was getting too comfortable in my apartment and I didn’t like it. His eighteenth birthday was approaching fast and I didn’t intend to lease him my living room indefinitely. But this was a conversation for another time.

“Could you please not do that?” I motioned at his feet and peeked at the laptop screen.

He complied, grimacing. “Someone’s not happy.”

I grimaced back at him.

A picture of Frank took up a good portion of BuzzFeed’s home page. It was a still of a newly uploaded video. He’d been caught on camera at the airport right after landing. Apparently, when things got interesting, even charter planes were of no use. If paparazzi wanted to find someone, they always did.

Ashton hit the play button. A jumble of voices filled the room.

“Frankie, do you have anything to say about the leak?”

“Over here, Frankie!”

“Any idea who may have leaked the music, Frankie?”

I watched Frank walking through the throng of shaking microphones. Frustration lined his face. He looked tired. I wanted to reach through the screen and hug him. Roman was one step ahead, making way for him. Corey mingled somewhere in the background. The questions kept pouring.

---