Page 37 of Pretty Black

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“Why are we even in the studio?”

“Iris has a single he wants to record,” Alexander said and shrugged. “Not uncommon to put out a little EP or something between records. Bands do it all the time.”

“Have you seen it?” I asked. I was usually the first one to get lyrics when Iris wrote anything.

“No. River told me last night that he wanted studio time before we left.”

“When did he write it?” I asked, getting annoyed.

“I don’t know. He’s giving me the silent treatment.” Alexander didn’t sound bothered, but at least it wasn’t just me.

“Are you kidding?” I asked. Had he not noticed Iris hadn’t spoken to me, either?

“Why would I be kidding?”

“He hasn’t spoken to me either.” It was much worse than that, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

Alexander’s brows lifted, and he studied me. “Trouble in paradise?”

I scoffed. “Don’t act like you didn’t expect him to be upset after you had him involuntarily admitted.”

“What did you want me to do?” There was an icy edge to his voice. “Let him go the Cobain route?”

“No…but why did you tell the rest of the guys it was drugs?” I asked, the question eating at me since he’d put Iris on the psych hold.

“Do you think Iris wants them to know how bad his mental health is? I was under the impression he didn’t even want me to know. I was doingyoua favor.”

I sighed. Maybe he was right. “It’s not good either way. River keeps freaking out about him ODing and talking about how rehab didn’t work.”

“I’ll have River talk to him.” Alexander put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry you two broke up, but I’m sure he’ll come around. You probably saved his life, and wouldn’t you rather him be alive?”

“How can you even say that to me? Of course I’d rather him be alive.” But living without him would be hell. Could I work with him for the rest of our lives after having had his love and find a way to survive it?

What about when he found someone else?

I didn’t know how I’d handle any of it.

I’d had a taste of forever, and I’d never be satisfied with anything else. I knew it with every particle in me.

“I’m going to go drop this,” Iris said to our producer.

“But I haven’t seen it,” I said. Iris acted like he didn’t hear me.

The producer glanced between us. “Ummm.”

“Can you set it up so I can just get the vocals down?” Iris asked.

“Just the vocals? Do you need...” He didn’t even know what to offer Iris. We never did anything this way.

“I don’t need anything.” He ducked into the vocal booth.

Maybe that was all we were meant to be.

Half-finished sentences—

Late night confessions.

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