Page 22 of Once Upon a Boyband
“Then why would New Groove be willing to bankroll a concert that won’t make them any money?” I say. “That makes no sense.”
“The PR, man. Don’t worry about the details. The details always work out.”
The details always work out. Another one of Kevin’s catchphrases. And it usually means he’s hiding something.
“Deke, man, listen?—”
“Adam,” I correct.
“Right. Adam. I don’t know if you’ve watched much entertainment news lately, but Freddie has been all over it. He could use a little positive PR right now.”
“What happened?” I ask, feeling simultaneously worried for Freddie and relieved that whatever is going on, it doesn’t have anything to do with me.
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Kevin says. “He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the media turned it into something it wasn’t. But his sales have taken a hit, and his new label isn’t liking the current landscape. We’re thinking a reunion concert would be good for his image. A way to remind people of his wholesome roots.”
Street noise filters through the phone, a car horn honking, the beep of a truck backing up, a hurried shout. It’s so starkly different from the sounds of Lawson Cove, and it sends a wave of uneasiness washing over me.
“Not to mention the media storm it would create,” he continues. “Fans would lose it. It’s all people would talkabout, and then all this other stuff would get lost in the excitement.”
A few years ago, Sarah asked me if I’d ever consider a reunion show, and I told her I didn’t think there would be any interest now that we’re all so old. She spent the next thirty minutes showing me websites for all the other boybands still actively touring. The Backstreet Boys even do an annual beach vacation thing that includes a concert and VIP meetings with the band. It sells out every year, apparently, so what do I know?
“Your fans all grew up, dummy,” Sarah said. “And now they have jobs and money and cars to drive themselves to a show. Even without Freddie’s enormously successful career, which definitely doesn’t hurt things, you guys could still sell out a whole tour. I guarantee it.”
For a split second, I forget how much Kevin irritates me and let myself think about singing with the guys again. We had a lot of fun on stage, but for me, it was more about the music. That’s the part I really miss, and I’d almost say yes just for that—for the chance to make music like I used to.
But I can’t just remember the good parts of the past and forget everything else.
I can’t undo how or why things ended.
I close my eyes, suddenly wishing I’d never decided to pick up the phone. “I’m sure it will eventually die down anyway,” I say. “Freddie will be fine. A little bit of bad press isn’t going to hurt him.”
“Deke, come on,” Kevin says.
“Adam,” I correct again. Something makes me think he’s getting it wrong on purpose.
“Please just think about it. I know it would mean a lot to Freddie.”
I turn off the faucet and pinch the bridge of my nose, leaving tiny droplets of water on my forehead.
“Just picture it,” Kevin says. “New Year’s Eve. Packed house in the Ben King Arena in Nashville. Midnight Rush on stage for the first time in eight years.”
A New Year’s Eve concert is sooner than I would have guessed, but it’s a detail that doesn’t matter because I can’t say yes. Even if a small part of me wants to.
“I can’t do it, Kevin.”
“Why?” he says, his voice sharper than it was before. “After everything, man, you won’t do this one thing for your friends? For Freddie?”
Unease swirls in my gut. I don’t like the direction Kevin is going. He has all the fodder he needs to guilt me into this.
I was the one who walked away.
I was the one who ended the band.
I was the one who dealt with my grief, with my anger over losing my mom, by shutting everyone out.
I can’t let Kevin go there, because I won’t be able to say no, and I really,reallyneed to say no.
I glance around my kitchen as if the solution to my problem is hidden inside my cabinets or behind the paper towel holder. He said a firm no was all he needed, but I should have known better than to believe him.
