Page 76 of Crimson Desires

So, I just settled for a shaky, “Thank you.”

Ava accepted my thanks with a curt nod. “Of course. Anyways, follow me. I’ve got something to show you.”

I walked with Ava to the merch table. She pulled out her tablet and propped it up on the tabletop. After a few taps, she pulled up a picture of a T-shirt design. My T-shirt design.

“What do you think?” Ava asked. She flicked through a slideshow of mockups. I saw my design on shirts, tote bags, hoodies, and even posters.

I didn’t even bother hiding my wild grin. “Ava, this is crazy.”

“Crazy good, right?”

“Yes. Absolutely. So good,” I assured her. “These mockups look amazing.”

Ava grinned, seeming pleased with herself. “I knew your design had potential. And the good news is that James Maverick, the CEO of Maverick Records, also really likes it. That said, these aren’t mockups. They’re actual product photos. We’ll be dropping the merch at the same time as the new album. I also negotiated your compensation: $20,000 upfront with 2% royalties for two years.”

“How did you have time to organize this? Whenever I see you, you’re up to your neck with work. It’d be impressive if it wasn’t so worrying. No offense.”

“None taken. And to answer your question simply, I prioritized it,” Ava said. A rare flash of vulnerability passed over her face. “Aster, I know what it’s like to struggle. Before I got my big break, I was dead broke. Living on couches and literally eating food from the dumpster. Kane taking a chance on me changed my fucking life. And so, I guess I wanted to pay it forward by taking a chance on you.”

“God. I can’t thank you enough.”

“You only have to thank me once.” Ava’s smile thinned. “Just promise me one thing, okay? Promise me you’re not going to let this chance go to waste.”

My heart squeezed.

I didn’t want to tell Ava that I was a lost cause. Maybe because, deep down, I didn’t want to believe that I was a lost cause.

But the truth of the matter was that pursuing a career in art just wasn’t in the cards for me. The advance that Ava had negotiated for me to receive in exchange for my artwork might’ve allowed me to take a year off work while I chased a tattoo apprenticeship or studied graphic design—except I was probably going to have to use it to pay for my father’s surgery.

And what then? I’d be right where I left off, working full-time at a dead-end waitressing job just to keep my head above the water.

But I couldn’t tell Ava that. Not when she’d worked so hard to offer me this rare glimmer of hope.

So, instead of telling her the truth, I faked a smile.

“I won’t Ava. I promise.”

***

As Wicked Crimson was finishing up their sound test, my phone buzzed with a call from Dad.

I jogged out of the arena’s main stage area and answered, pressing my phone to my ear.

“Honey! I saw you on the internet,” Dad said. Despite his cheerful tone, I could hear the tiredness in his voice. “Do you and that rock star have something going on?”

I blushed. “Kind of. But don’t worry. It’s not serious.” I didn’t want Dad to worry that his youngest daughter was off getting pregnant while on tour with a rock band, but there also wasn’t any point in lying to him about my fling with Jack.

“Well, you look happy in the photos,” Dad said. “Where are you guys tonight?”

“Charleston,” I said. The word hung heavy on my tongue. Before Dad could bring up Violet, I spoke. “So, about your surgery-,”

“I hope you haven’t been worrying about that,” Dad said. “Look, Aster. I don’t know what Melinda told you, but it’s not that bad. The doctors are saying that it’s necessary, but I think they just want my money. You know how hospitals are. Always trying to wring you of your last dime.”

I grimaced. “Still. You should be taking this seriously.”

“I am. I had Melinda set me up one of those crowdfunding pages,” Dad said. “We’ve raised about a hundred dollars so far.”

“A hundred dollars isn’t going to cover much,” I mumbled.

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