Page 104 of With Stars in Her Eyes
I shut the window hard enough that the wall shook.
Of course Thea was angry. I rustled through the sheets I’d been sleeping under just minutes ago and found my notebook. I had woken before dawn, and my fingers had been aching for my bow. When was the last time I’d felt that way? When I opened my eyes before all this happened, I’d feltenergizedin a way I hadn’t since those nights after leaving Jeremiah, when writing and playing had become a compulsion for months. I had spent an hour beforedawn creepily staring at Thea between scribbling song fragments in my notebook. Then I had gotten back into bed and curled up against a distractingly naked Thea and dozed off.
And now Thea was gone.
I rubbed my bare upper arms.
The house’s old thin walls meant I could make out voices from the kitchen, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying.
Of course Sam would let Demetrius in.
Why shouldn’t she? Their now mega-famous old college buddy had appeared on her best friend’s doorstep in Kansas and probably shouldn’t be left knocking on the door for an hour in case paparazzi showed up or whatever the hell superfamous people who don’t perform under a fake stage persona needed to worry about.
Anger at Demetrius wasn’t fair. None of what happened was his fault. He should be pissed at me.
All of this was my fault.
But given that I’d texted him a finalno,why the hell was he here now?
I pulled on sweatpants and an old sweater and headed down the hall to face the music.Facing the musicbeing more of a literal thing than a cliché at the moment since “the music” had been featured on last month’sRolling Stonecover.
When I came downstairs, Sam had left. Demetrius sat alone at the kitchen table. He held up his phone where I could see the screen.
I gasped. “Oh my god.No.”
CHAPTER 37Courtney
Demetrius sipped coffee out of one of my landlady’s Snoopy mugs at the kitchen table as if he hadn’t detonated a bomb in my life ten seconds ago.
I paced back and forth between the living room and kitchen. “You said if I came back to New York and did everything I was contracted to do for the album you’d let me make my own decision about this. And I told you yesterday I don’t need more time. I’m not coming back right now, and now—”
“I know.” He shook his head. “But it just… leaked. And now—”
“Howthough?” I gestured to the table as if something tangible sat there toward which I could direct whatever anger/fear/shock chaos was tangled into my brain. “I can’t.” Needing to soothe my dry mouth, I grabbed the mug of tea he must have set out for me and swallowed too quickly, which sent a sear of pain down my throat. “Ican’t.”
“You looked so good in New York. Your eyes are brighter. Youtoldme you wouldn’t lie to me about the migraines ever again.” His eyes betrayed a hint of panic. “Are you hiding symptoms aga—”
“I’m not hiding anything. I learned that lesson… in pretty grand fashion if you remember.” I tapped my nails on the mug handle. “No… I mean—uh—physically I guess I’m finally doing much better. It’s more predictable at least. But the music leaked with my—”
“Name. Full name. Everything is out there. But Courtney… people love it. Theyloveit.” His cheeks spread into a smile that was impossible to resist, but it looked too hopeful. That kindof hope hurt. “Everyone knows who you are now, so I thought maybe—”
“Richard did this, didn’t he?”
“No. He wouldn’t. He might be a little Machiavellian, but he knows I would fire him for this. He thinks it was someone at the label protecting the investment and trying to force your hand.”
“Shit.” My tea rippled in front of me. Was my hand shaking? “I’m probably going to have them forever, and the medications are working… but I just don’t know if I can do it.”
“Because of the migraines?” He knocked on the table once. “Or is it something else?”
“The migraines… The bad days still happen, but they’re more manageable. I’ve been working full-time here. Playing… too… just at home though. I didn’t have an attack after playing with the band in New York. It’s not the migraines… or it’s notjustthe migraines…”
“I just… I still don’t understand why you lied to me about them.” I knew Demetrius so well I heard the bite of frustration in his voice beneath the charm.
“I’m sorry.” I sat across from him and swirled my tea. “I was worried you would freak out and think I couldn’t perform.” My huff of laughter held no humor. “Ironic, I guess. I’m sorry for embarrassing you. How many times do I have to say sorry about LA?”
“You think I’m angry because youembarrassedme in LA?”
“Richard totaled up just how much I cost the label after blowing that show. He sent me an itemized spreadsheet. I don’t blame you for being—”
