by Rachel Shane
Two could play at the publicity game. Trevor may have wanted to use this for a second chance at his first career, and though I wanted that too, I had more immediate problems. Like a roommate who snored. The faster I could convince Throckmorton to give us that damn house, the faster I could focus on my second desire. The fame one.
“And today we’ve got a special guest with a special announcement. Please welcome America’s sweetheart, the girl least likely to end up in the tabloids for something other than rescuing a stray puppy,” I said.
Alexis blushed. “Aww, you guys.”
“Welcome, Alexis,” Trevor finished. His voice was velvety smooth with the rhythm and cadence required of announcers. He emphasized the right words with the right inflection.
“I’m so excited to be here.” Alexis flourished her hands around the room. “Here! In my dear Trevor’s hometown.”
I cringed inwardly, my smile wavering on my face. Stupid camera pointed in my direction. Her dear Trevor. And I was his dear nothing.
Keane. His image popped into my mind. He liked me for me. I had an actual chance with him. I just had to focus on that.
“It is a lovely town. Hey, we only have, what, a fifty percent crime rate? We’re winning, I tell you,” Trevor said. “But being here, in this arena, you’re not seeing any of the good parts.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Because the good parts don’t exist.”
Trevor raised a brow. “Is that a challenge?”
I let out a small laugh. “A challenge you’ll lose. Need I remind you that I live here too? Aside from Throckmorton, which is its own separate world, the only good thing about this city is that eventually all the snow will melt and make way for…gray skies.”
Trevor leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. “I accept.”
“Accept what?” Alexis asked excitedly, as if she were still part of this conversation. Across the way, Gemma rolled her eyes, too grossed out by the pep in Alexis’s voice, probably.
“Erin’s challenge to show her the good of Throckmorton, New York. Prepare to be impressed.”
I let out a fake yawn directly into the mic and patted my mouth. “The only thing I’m impressed with is how delusional you are.”
Alexis giggled, and I bit my lip. I had to stop. I was flirting with her boyfriend.
I twisted to her, blocking my view of Trevor and the way his mouth opened for some sort of comeback, and rushed in with a question to Alexis to turn this interview back on track. “So, Alexis, tell us about your new album. I heard you were inspired to write the songs after—”
“My last break up,” she finished for me.
My stomach sank. That wasn’t what I had read at all on the car ride over. I’d read it was an anthem to her fans.
“It’s about finding myself again after being lost. It’s my most deeply personal record.” Her voice cracked. “The lyrics, they’re my soul.” She said it was such passion that every single person in the room leaned in. Even Gemma, who I suspected would be less impressed by all that Throckmorton had to offer than I would. Besides, Trevor’s offer was completely fake. Just for show. Just to get us to the Big Reveal.
“My favorite lyric,” Trevor said, “Is the one that goes: you were in my heart before you were in my pants.” He raised his brow a few times in succession and then made a bird call sound.
Alexis blushed. “It’s not pants. The actual lyric is you were in my heart before you were in my life.” She sang the words with her beautiful voice.
I twisted to Trevor. “I see how you might be confused though. Considering where your brain is stored.”
“Oh!” He placed a hand over his chest. “She stabs me. She grinds my heart into dust.”
“And that,” Alexis said, “Is my favorite lyric.” She sang part of her song called Into Dust where the words Trevor said played a prominent part of the chorus except with male pronouns instead.
I had to admit, I was impressed. Trevor had done his research. Some of the lyrics he was mentioning him were from songs on her album she never released as singles. Of course, Trevor had a pretty solid source in the form of her agent.
Cliff coughed once, and then looked pointedly at me, which must have been my cue. My pulse amped in an instant, my skin tingling. Any good host should be able to read the worst news with a straight face. News anchors reporting on some of the nation’s biggest tragedies had to repeatedly share horrific details with viewers without breaking down. So why was it so damn hard for me to ask Alexis if she was dating the guy I had zero chance with? I sucked in a deep breath of courage and turned to her. “Alexis, it’s my understanding that you’ve got some news to share tonight.”
She hid under her eyelashes, looking at us demurely. “The best kind of news.” A cute little blush spread across her cheeks.
“News that might inspire another album, perhaps?” Trevor asked and earned a nod from Cliff. This had been his script.
“Why yes, now that you mention it. I’ve just finished in the studio putting my new soul into lyrics. I’ll give you an exclusive hint. I’ve never sang this song in public. Here’s the chorus.”
She closed her eyes and the room fell silent. Trevor’s chest stilled as he held his breath. I resisted the urge to swallow hard for fear of disturbing the delicate balance in the room.
You blew into my life like a storm
Your love came in a different form
When I unraveled, you tied the knot
I was going in circles, you connected the dots
You’ve got me caught
(Caught caught caught)
She sang the last line in a whisper that faded as she repeated the words. When she opened her eyes, Trevor clapped. “Wow.” His voice sounded strained.
Because it was about him, I reminded myself.
He glanced at me. So did Cliff. And Alexis. Everyone except Gemma, who was too busy fiddling with her nails. I took a deep breath to read my line. If I looked only at Alexis maybe it would be okay. Maybe I wouldn’t crack into pieces. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Instead, I misdirected. “Is the song about anyone in particular?”
Her cheeks combusted red. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m in love.”
Love. My stomach sank, but I could picture the audience leaning in, pressing their earbuds deeper into their ears to hear better.
Who are you dating? The words were on my tongue. But they didn’t come out. “Is the person in this room?”
She blinked for a moment, caught off guard by my indirect approach to the question. Then answered with an emphatic, “Yes.”
“Name names! This is a witch hunt!” Trevor shouted, clearly losing patience with the way I was dragging this out.
I sucked in a deep breath. “Who are you dating, Alexis?”
“I’m in love with Gemma.” Alexis pushed herself out of the chair before I had a chance to make sense of her words. She crossed the two steps to the girl slumped on the couch. Gemma stopped fidgeting and straightened. Their eyes locked. The camera swung around just in time to capture their embrace, Alexis’s hands pawing all over Gemma’s sides, Gemma knotting her fingers in Alexis’s blond waves, as the two locked lips in a fierce kiss. Alexis broke away laughing, her smile enormous. Her pink lipstick was smeared all over Gemma’s face.
I pressed a palm to my forehead. Trevor’s mouth parted in sudden understanding, and I knew this was breaking news to him, too.
Gemma pulled Alexis back to the mic, their fingers laced, black nails mixed with pale pink. She sat down in the chair and then settled Alexis onto her lap. The two nuzzled noses in a way that was very un-Gemma-like but so very Alexis like.
“That’s right,” Gemma said into the mic. “And I love her back.”
“Wait.” I cupped my hand over the mic. “I thought Alexis was dating you.”
“The person who told you that was mistaken.” Trevor laughed. “You’re the only girl I want to date.”
“But—” I dropped my hand from the mic. Wasn’t this
all a publicity stunt?
“But that’s a wrap,” Cliff yelled. The cameras switched off. The sound tech flipped a bunch of buttons. Alexis and Gemma kept kissing until her makeup artist pulled her away, grumbling about having to reapply her lipstick.
“I want this uploaded in the next ten minutes,” Cliff said, and I realized the worst part. Harrison’s story with details of the Alexis/Trevor romance was false, but it was already at the printers. Cliff had out scooped him. But it felt like I was the one who had lost all control.
WE WERE GIVEN PRIME seats for Alexis’s concert. Not front row center but actually on stage. Alexis kept a bleacher section of seats on the stage for those she wanted to sing directly to plus a few fan contest winners and we made up the majority of the prestigious crowd. Well, most of us anyway. Me, Bianca, Harrison, Matt, even Gemma. But not Trevor.
Cliff had whisked him away immediately after the interview ended and I hadn’t seen him since. I tried to enjoy the fact that I was watching a concert next to Gemma, the bad girl queen of the world, and my face was in full view of the entire audience. Alexis put on a fantastic concert, her powerful voice booming out of her innocent, petite body. At one point she even introduced us and plugged the podcast, but Trevor wasn’t there to soak up the second hand fame. I bit my lip and focused on the way Alexis shimmied to her most popular song Black Hole (I’ve been sucked into a void/Because it’s you I can’t avoid.)
My mind flashed immediately to one person. Trevor, and the way his guitar calloused hands fit so perfectly in mine.
I should not think about Trevor. Even if he was still officially single and ready for the taking.
And oh God did I want to take him. Up against a wall. On a bed. In the shower. In the backseat of a car, no a limo, no a private jet. I wanted to run my tongue over his defined pecs and then lower. I wanted to make him scream my name in a private concert only for me. No lip-synching allowed.
On my other side, Harrison spent the entire concert frantically banging out emails and texts, disappearing behind stage between songs and screaming into his phone so loud the sound carried over to us. Finally, as Alexis wailed her final note and strutted off the stage for good, he returned to us with a grave face, shaking his head at Bianca. She frowned and rubbed her hand over his shoulder, trying to comfort him. It was too late. The incorrect story about Alexis and Trevor dating had already gone to print.
The lights in the arena popped on. Chatter filled the space that had just been ripe with songs. Gemma fumbled in her pocket for her vape and then rushed off stage to be reunited with her love. I rose onto shaky legs, feeling strangely out of sorts, like an out of body experience. I’d been to this concert. I’d witnessed it. But my mind was elsewhere.
“I need a fucking drink,” Harrison said with a self-deprecating laugh, rubbing his hand through his dark hair.
“Quigley’s?” a voice suggested, but it wasn’t Bianca’s. And it wasn’t mine. I spun around to see Trevor standing there, hands shoved into his pockets. He’d replaced the button down with his sweater and matted his spiked back under the beanie. “Because I could use a fucking drink too. Or several.”
I blinked at him, trying to make sense of the fact that Clever fucking Trevor just suggested we all become drinking buddies. With his enemy. With the girl he may or may not be fake pursuing. With Bianca, who volleyed her head between Trevor and Harrison warily. She slung a protective arm around her boyfriend.
“You,” Harrison said, eye brows raised. ‘Want to go get a drink with me?”
Trevor shrugged. “I am your ride after all.”
A parallel universe. That was what this was. We were in a hidden camera episode of a reality show. Any minute now Rod Serling would waltz out and tell us we’d entered an alternate dimension.
“Wait. Where were you just now?” I diffused the gun battle like any host would, by re-directing the conversation in another direction.
He waved his hand at me dismissively. “Business stuff. Boring as hell. You got the better deal.” He jutted his chin toward the stage where men in black were pushing the equipment toward the aisles. But the way Trevor said it sounded like it wasn’t boring at all. And it wasn’t something he wanted me to know.
Suddenly I needed a drink too. “Fine, I’m in,” I said, my words a challenge. My voice had turned cold.
“Should we invite Alexis?” Bianca asked, and I could practically see her PR czar wheels turning in her mind at all the connections she could make over a drink.
Trevor shook his head. “I think she’s got other plans.”
The way he said it sounded like her plans involved being horizontal on a bed beside Gemma and not anywhere that required being upright. Or in public. Or clothed.
“Great!” Matt said, sidling up to us out of nowhere. “I’ll meet you guys there.” He jiggled his keys and Bianca groaned.
Harrison straightened. “I hate to say this, but I’d prefer to ride with you, do you mind?”
Matt looked slightly offended by the backhanded compliment but when his eyes flicked to Bianca, he nodded.
The three of them left the arena so fast, it was like they were outrunning a fire.
Trevor and I took a slower pace, weaving through the crowd in the parking lot like two strangers. Awkward silence crackled between us, replaced only by the rush of people knocking into us. He kept his hands shoved in his pocket, his face pointing forward, his voice switched into the off mode.
“Sorry,” he said in the car, rubbing his hands together to keep warm. The swirl of his breath fogged the windshield. “I was afraid if I spoke near the crowd, someone might recognize my voice.”
“Or mine,” I countered. “I do have a hit podcast after all.”
He laughed and just like that the tension causing a wedge between us disintegrated, shattered by the easy way our banter returned.
“Also, I’m sorry to surprise you like that about Alexis.” Trevor swerved onto the highway, cars rushing by us on either side. “Cliff surprised me with that news too. I mean, I knew she was dating someone, just not who.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “But wait, why did Harrison think she was dating you?”
Trevor grinned sheepishly. “I’ll never tell.” But then his shoulders relaxed as he leaned back into the drive. “Okay, I had some friends plant that info to him. He’d already called them for interviews about me. Figured I’d give him a taste of his own medicine.”
“He deserved it.” I clamped my hand over my mouth, shocked at what I’d said. He was my best friend’s boyfriend. He was my roommate. Which was the entirely the problem. He was on my nerves. I did not need to see any more of his dirty boxers on the stairway landing because he dropped them on the way to the washer in the basement and couldn’t be bothered to pick them up until his next laundry trip. “I shouldn’t have said that. Honestly, he’s not a bad guy. He’s just…very determined.”
“I can’t believe you live with him. With all of them.”
I groaned. “I can’t either. The last time I had a moment to myself was winter break. And even then my dad was moping around my house the whole time. In some ways, it was even more claustrophobic than here.”
Trevor took his blue eyes off the road for a moment to study me. “Why? What happened?” The way he asked sounded sincere but everything I’d ever read about Trevor indicated how selfish he was. How he didn’t care about anything except getting ahead, sometimes hurting himself just to do so.
Still, I found myself answering. “He lost his job. He was a news anchor at CNN and they gutted half the staff. Replaced them with cheaper newbies.” I studied my hands in my lap. “It terrifies me about going into this profession. My dad was a respected news anchor for twenty years under contract and he still got canned! How can I even dare to follow in his footsteps?”
Trevor sighed, turning on his blinker and coasting toward the exit. “I’ve had the same worry. At twenty-three, I’m fucking old already.” He clucked his tongue. “That’s why I need this now. I c
an’t afford to wait for my debacle to blow over, for people to forget the way they forgot about that time Britney Spears shaved her head and destroyed a car with a baseball bat. Now she has a Las Vegas show. Now she’s respected again. But it took a decade.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Are you sure respected is the word you want to go with in relation to Britney Spears?”
He laughed. “What I’m saying is, if this doesn’t work. I’m fucked. I might as well give up.” He sucked in two big breaths, his fingers squeezing on the wheel. He looked like he might break to pieces. I only had a future that hadn’t even started yet riding on this—and some free space to call my own—but this was Trevor’s last chance.
I reached over and laced with Trevor’s, his palm warm in mine. He squeezed once before ripping his hand away to twist the wheel and plant the car in a parking spot near Quigley’s. Before turning the engine off, he buried his head in his hands, puffing big breaths through his lungs as if he needed to work up the courage to face the world.
“Are you okay?” My voice was an echo against his heavy breaths.
“I just need a minute.”
Through the windshield, I spotted Bianca, Harrison, and Matt hustling toward the entrance, pulling their coats tightly closed against the biting wind. A line snaked around the side of the building and they joined it, Bianca hopping up and down to keep warm as Harrison pulled her into an embrace and wrapped his arms around her. It was the first official bar night of the week. As opposed to last night, which was the first unofficial bar night. Semantics, honestly.
My stomach squeezed and suddenly everything felt all wrong. I was here with a guy I didn’t know anything about, not really. I was dressed wrong, in a button down that was both out of place on me and at the bar. With trembling fingers, I undid the buttons of my shirt and tossed it in the backseat. Trevor popped open one eye, and then straightened at the sight of me in only my black tank top I wore as an undershirt.