Page 76 of Faithful

“That isn’t the conversation I’m here to have, kid,” Bodhi replies dismissively. “You are who you are and I’m one hundred percent on board with whatever makes you comfortable. I don’t care who you fuck. I care about the music you produce and whether you have it in you to go out on that stage every night and give those people–who are paying your bills and mine–an experience they’ll remember for the rest of their lives. What I’m having an issue with is him”–Bodhi points a finger at me–“being here all week and putting himself and you at risk, and the clusterfuck with tonight’s show we’re facing right now because of that stupid petition going around.”

“What do you mean?” Kai frowns.

Oh shit. I never told him about Divine Dave and his latest sabotage attempt. Didn’t want to worry him.

“Some religious nut”–Bodhi coughs into his fist–“pardon, an online influencer, started a petition to cancel the remaining Iodine Vegas shows.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds of you being the leader of a cult.”

I expect for Kai to react to this somehow, but he doesn’t. He just stands there motionless, arms crossed on his chest, eyes unreadable.

“Alright, I’ve said my piece.” Bodhi begins moving in the direction of the door. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Then he’s gone.

* * *

By four in the afternoon, the situation with the petition has escalated into a major crisis. There’s pushback from the hotel management too and the venue is forced to comply.

The show is rescheduled to the only day off the band has next week–Monday–under the pretense of updating safety protocols.

It’s a load of bull, of course. All this is done only to pacify a certain group of people who’ve gotten involved in the scandal. Iodine stans are furious. Divine Dave is happy. On Twitter, the two online communities threaten each other with bodily injuries.

By seven, when it’s clear neither band will play Double Down tonight, Kai’s needed at the conference center. He’s asked to be dressed for the camera. He’s gone for about an hour and I’m so nervous while he’s out that I can’t concentrate on anything. To pass the time, I call my mother.

“Are you having fun on your vacation, my love?” she asks.

“Yeah.”Mostly, but not right now because I don’t know what the fuck is going on.

“When are you back?”

“Tomorrow night.”

We chat a little more and I’m grateful that there’s no mention of Ava. I don’t think I can handle that kind of pressure at the moment. Amelia has been sending me regular updates since I left for Vegas and so far things with my mother have been more or less stable. My hope is that she’ll eventually come into her own and seek professional help without being forced to do so.

Kai returns to the suite uncharacteristically chipper.

“What happened?” I jump up from the bed.

He shrugs and heads over to the window, his gaze on the bright lights of the Strip spread out thirty-two floors below. “They had me making a statement for social media.”

“How did it go?” I move to stand behind him.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

I step closer, my body inches away from his. I note the tension in his posture and the faint smell of cigarette smoke on his coat and my need to make things at least a little better for him drives me forward.

I wrap my arms around his form, locking my hands together on his chest.

He’s quiet and still at first. Several moments later, I feel a slight motion beneath my embrace and a palm curling over my wrist.

“Never thought you’d be the cuddly type.” Kai chuckles softly, pressing his back into me.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” I whisper in his ear, wait a second, then try out the word I’ve been wanting to say to him for a while now, “sweetheart.”

I don’t know what exactly to expect. Sounding too soft? Sounding too weird?Sounding too gay?

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