The Rock Star (Hollywood Heartthrobs Book 2)

by Tabitha Bree

  I smile weakly, reading that last part.

  And what happened after that?

  You pretty much know the rest. Willow and Mike worked together to twist the story. Gave countless interviews and spread their lies like herpes. Who was everyone going to believe, America’s folk-singing darling and well-respected manager or some drug-fucked rock star who can’t keep it in his pants? I accepted defeat, figured my time was better spent looking for a new dream, or at least somewhere to weather the storm.

  And is that when you signed on for Legends of the Sea?

  I thought it would change everything. But the bullshit, it follows you. As it turns out, I couldn’t get my fresh start. Not without coming clean about everything else. So that’s why I’m here.

  You say that it isn’t about being believed, but it seems like it’s important to you, otherwise you wouldn’t be speaking with me?

  Maybe… one thing I’ve learned to accept these last few months is that, despite how I come across on the outside… I do care what people think about me. If people think I’m an asshole, that bothers me. If they’re judging based on nothing, then I won’t waste my energy trying to change their mind. But if someone has the wrong idea about me because of a lie, I’ve realized it’s my job to set them straight. And then they can think whatever they want. But I want to give people the chance to see the real Xavier Black.

  And who is the real Xavier Black?

  Maybe it’s easier if I start by saying who he isn’t. Xavier Black isn’t a womanizer, or a bad ass or even a rock star. He doesn’t do drugs anymore and yes; he likes the odd drink, but nothing crazy. Xavier Black loves his dad and his dog and he feels at home with a guitar in his hands, not an electric guitar, but his acoustic Martin D-28. He’s really a giant dork, and all he wants is to fill his life with kind, genuine people. Hopefully, this is where it starts. Hopefully, this is his second chance to get it right.

  I wipe the tear that is sliding down my cheek before it lands on the magazine, taking a deep breath and exhaling out my mouth.

  To say I had the wrong idea about Xavier is an understatement.

  Everything makes total sense now. The weird chip on his shoulder, the devil-may-care attitude but with the shadow of sadness. Not only has Xavier been living a lie since high school, but he’s been weathering months and months of awful gossip that was based on lies. He’s had millions of people talking about him and tearing apart his character, even though he was the one who was left heartbroken and without a music career. No wonder it took a while for him to open up to me.

  No wonder he was so hurt over what I said in that video.

  We actually were making progress. It wasn’t in my head. There was something special between me and Xavier, and he wasn’t with other women, and he wasn’t a cheater.

  And then I went and confirmed all the meanest things ever said about him.

  No wonder he isn’t answering my calls.

  I have to find him.

  32

  Xavier

  The Truth Comes Out!

  Willow and Mike Mathers’ steamy affair exposed, leaving Xavier Black heartbroken but stronger.

  The ultimate betrayal has come to light after Xavier Black had his first interview following the cheating scandal that rocked Hollywood. In a juicy tell-all, Xavier confesses it was not him who was unfaithful, but Willow, and with his well-known manager and man-about-town Mike Mathers. During his sit down with sharp-shooter, Janice Hall, Xavier recalls the day he walked in on Willow “between Mike’s legs” and how the pair confessed that the cheating had been ongoing for months.

  In an act of hurt, Black admitted to punching Mathers in the face, which led to the disgraced pair turning the tables on Black and claiming the affair was his. To add insult to injury, Mathers blacklisted Black across the music industry, making it impossible for him to continue his career in LA and forcing him to take a job on the big screen in Hollywood.

  “I never liked her,” a close friend of Xavier’s said when asked for a comment. “Willow was a bitch from the start. Everyone thinks she’s the nice, innocent folk singer, but she’s faker than the filler in her lips.”

  Willow and Mike have gone into hiding since the bombshell interview came out, refusing to comment on the scathing allegations. And what’s next for Xavier now that the truth has come out? The singer isn’t sure what his next move is, but we’ll be waiting for him with open arms when he figures it out.

  I smile down at my phone, re-reading the comment from Jack. She was stoked when I told her she could finally speak to the press. She was loyal when I wanted to stay quiet about the whole thing, as much as she wanted to set the record straight. So giving her permission to talk to the paps was like an early Christmas present.

  I feel like a weight has been lifted—a thirty-pound load of shit that I’ve been carrying around for months, and it feels so good, I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. Articles like this are all over the internet. Covering every social media feed, displayed in real life on every magazine stand. And it hasn’t stopped at just my story. Other celebrities are coming out about their bad experiences with Willow and Mike. It turns out as individuals, neither of them has the best track record, but for some reason, their positive reputations have covered for them all this time. Which goes to show—perception is reality in this town.

  And I think I’m over it.

  The article is right, I don’t know what my next move is going to be. But after having a couple of days to think about it, there seems to be only one logical option.

  “I thought I’d find you here.”

  I spin around on my bar stool and see Dee, standing there holding the magazine I left at her apartment. I can tell by the look on her face that she’s read it.

  “You didn’t answer my calls or texts, so I had to think about where you would go if you didn’t want to be found,” she goes on, taking a seat next to me. “And then I remembered this piece of shit dive bar I met you at a few weeks ago.”

  “Well, you got me, Moore. Maybe you’re working in the wrong industry. Have you considered being a private investigator?”

  She places the magazine on the bar between us. “I read it. All of it.”

  I nod, gesturing to the bar tender for another drink. I know I’ll need it for this conversation.

  “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

  I accept my new whiskey, looking into the amber liquid and ice. “You get sick of defending yourself to people who get their information from trash rags.”

  Dee’s face flinches and she looks down, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

  “That’s fair, I guess,” she says after a pause. “But after we slept together… after we were getting to know each other. Why wouldn’t you want me to know the truth then?”

  I bunch my shoulders up. “I don’t know. When you’ve lived with a certain persona for so long, it almost becomes a part of you. People are always going to talk shit about me in this business. So I guess I want people to make up their own minds about me based on our time together. But I should’ve set the record straight before, I’m sorry for that.”

  “I’ve been trying to call you for days. We need to talk about that stupid video with the crew. Jayden did that weeks ago, back when we only just started. I would never say those things about you no—”

  I shake my head and lift my fingers off my glass to cut her off. “I get it, and it’s fine. I let this whole facade go on for far too long. Maybe I needed to hear someone I care about talk about me that way to get it into my head, to wake me up.”

  Dee’s face softens. “You care about me?”

  I can see something in her eyes, something I haven’t seen in a long time… affection. I smile at her and then look back at my drink. I’ve been wanting to see that look on her face for weeks, but seeing it now doesn’t make this any easier.

  “I care about you too,” she says, looking at my arm, and I wonder if she’s thinking about grabbing my hand. “But I haven’t wan
ted to say anything, because all the cheating rumors freaked me out. I didn’t want to be just another girl left in your dust, so I kept it to myself. When I went after you to apologize for the video, I saw Jack at your house and I thought—” She shakes her head, laughing through her nose. “Well, you know what I thought. And I realized then how bad it would feel to just be one in a line of many. And I got all in my head about it.”

  She looks me in the eye, and I suddenly can’t break away. It’s the first time we’ve looked at each other with honesty, with no bullshit clouding our vision, and I feel like I could be stuck here forever. Drowning in her green eyes.

  “But after reading this, it changes everything. I’m so sorry these people did this to you. And I’m so sorry that I said those awful things and confirmed the horrible vision that’s been painted of you for too long. But it’s like you say in this article, maybe it’s time for a fresh start. Maybe we can start over?”

  Her eyes are wide as she waits for me to respond, and my heart is telling me to just go for it, take a leap of faith. I clamp my eyes shut long enough to break the vortex, and when I open them again, I keep them on the bar.

  “I went to my dad’s house in Cambria over my break to get away, to regroup,” I say, making tiny circles on the bar with my glass. “And he wanted me to go through some old shit, stuff from my childhood… from high school…”

  “I wish I could’ve known you then.”

  I smile. “Me too.” I take my drink to my lips for a long gulp. “That guy was honest. He knew who he was. When I looked back on all my stuff, I couldn’t help but think about how much I’d let him down. I felt bad about the man I’d become.”

  “But you’re a good man.” Dee puts her hand over my wrist, rubbing my skin with her thumb. It’s so tender and reassuring, and I know she means what she says.

  “I know… but I let my brand define me for years, and I let the world think I was something I wasn’t.” I stare at the bar, hard, like I’m trying to drill a hole in it with my eyes. “When you pretend to be something for too long, it becomes you. I was completely lost. I let that happen. But I want to get back on track, and be someone that teenage boy would be proud of, someone my dad can be proud of. I want to get back to my roots and pursue the kind of music I love to play.”

  “And you setting the record straight about all this is a great start,” Dee says, tilting her head. The hope in her eyes makes my stomach hurt.

  “Yeah, I’ve already had calls from labels in town wanting to represent me.”

  “That’s amazing, Xavier, congratulations.” She beams.

  I smile tightly, not being able to match her excitement. “Thanks, but… I’m not going to accept any of the offers.”

  “You’re going to keep going with acting?” she asks. “Because I didn’t want to say anything in case you got a big head, but you’re actually pretty good.”

  I laugh. “I appreciate that. And yeah, the film has been tons of fun. But I don’t think I can walk away from music… it’s what I love. It’s who I am.”

  She presses her eyebrows together. “So what are you going to do?”

  I inhale deep into my chest, wishing I could do the breathing techniques I showed Sadie without looking like a total douche canoe. I really need my pulse to calm down so I can get the words out.

  “I realized that getting a fresh start means more than just telling my side of the story to the magazines and getting back into my music career. I want to leave the old Xavier Black behind… which means leaving the place he existed in.”

  Out the side of my eye I can see the concern on her face, so I don’t look. If I look now, I may not be able to say it.

  “There’s a pretty cool scene up north, and I think my original acoustic sound will fit in good there. So I’m leaving LA. I’m moving to Portland as soon as I’m done with Legends of the Sea.”

  Pause.

  “You’re… leaving?” Dee whispers.

  “I have to. I have to do this for myself… give myself a chance to be the musician and the man I was always meant to be.”

  “And you can’t do that in LA?” she asks, her lips trembling. “You can’t do that here, with me?”

  And there it is. That stabbing pain in my chest I knew was coming.

  I finally face her again, feeling the full impact of the hurt in her eyes. “The truth is, Dee, that night in the bar with the video fucking broke me. To hear you talk about me like that… and how I felt about you…” I take a breath to steady myself. “I never want to see myself through your eyes again. It’s too damn painful.”

  “But I don’t see you that way. That was so long ago,” she pleads.

  “I know… but to know you ever felt that way about me. I just… I need to turn a new leaf… and I need to leave LA.”

  I get up from my stool, knowing that I’m about to cave at any moment; say fuck it, accept her apology and dive into her arms. But I know this is the right thing to do.

  Before I leave, I turn and face her, but quickly look away from the tears in her eyes.

  “And to answer your question from before… I don’t care about you.”

  Her chest heaves… but I’m not finished.

  “I love you.”

  And before I can hear her response, I walk away as fast as my legs will take me.

  33

  Dee

  I sat in that dirty dive bar for about twenty minutes, stuck to the stool like someone had covered it in superglue before I got there. I wanted to run after Xavier, make him stay and talk it over. But I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed by the thoughts circling my brain, the many confessions he’d made in the last day.

  Including the fact that he loves me.

  Xavier loves me? I can’t wrap my head around it… probably because he raced out of there so fast after he said it. I’m not sure if it actually happened or if I imagined it.

  Who does that? Drops the L bomb and then peaces out into the night? My mind was overloaded, unable to process all the extra information it received in such a short amount of time. So I had to just sit there, slowly digesting everything like a python after it’s chowed down an ambitious-sized marsupial.

  But today I’m getting my head straight. Today I’m back in business, getting my life on track after the many derailments over the last few weeks.

  I look up at the quote on my wall.

  “Always stay true to yourself and never let what somebody says distract you from your goals.”

  The entire thing with Xavier has just been one giant distraction, and I can’t let it get in the way of my success. Not the feelings I have for him, not the fact that him leaving feels like someone has kicked me in the stomach, not the fact that he loves me… No. Nothing can get in the way. And there’s no point in dwelling on it, anyway. He’s leaving. He wants a fresh start. He can’t get over my opinions of him from the past. So what can I do, anyway? Nothing. It’s all pointless, and the thing I need to focus on is my career and my future.

  Almost like she sensed my train of thought, I get a text from my boss.

  Katherine: Can you come by my house? I need to discuss something with you.

  A weird flutter of anticipation reverberates through my stomach. She wants to see me at her house? On a weekend?

  Delilah: Sure. I’m on my way.

  For once at least I know it isn’t about Xavier playing up, on account of he’s either been away or behaving himself. Since our conversation at the bar, I’ve only seen him one day on set. And for that day, we both avoided each other. I felt stupid for going and finding him, only for him to tell me he was leaving and there was no future between us. So I did what any emotionally stunted person would do, and I avoided him like a high school reunion. But he was avoiding me, too. He had this new, strange focus. Like he just wanted to get the rest of the film done as quickly as possible so he could get out of dodge.

  I think he also felt embarrassed about the whole video thing, and all the people who saw it.

  I reall
y fucked up there.

  Making my way to Beverly Hills, I let the fall breeze stream through my open window. As much as it pains me to drive through these parts, it’s always a nice reminder of what’s possible if you work hard enough.

  I drive through the gated community and marvel at the grandness of the houses surrounding me, making my way to number 14151. Katherine’s villa stands magnificently, exuding character and European charm. The stucco exterior is warm yellow, with tiled roofing and arched windows looking out onto the street. She instructed me to let myself in when I arrive, so I walk through the doors into the foyer.

  “Hello?” I call. “Katherine? It’s Dee.”

  In the center of the foyer sits a round table with a huge vase of lilies, and overhead hangs a chandelier. It’s a hundred times more amazing than my entire apartment, and it’s a room that doesn’t even serve a purpose.

  A staircase swirls up to my left and I wonder if she can’t hear me. “Hello? Are you up there?” I call up the airspace, getting The Devil Wears Prada flashbacks to Andy walking up the forbidden stairs.

  On second thought, I’ll stay down here.

  “Come through, I’m in here,” Katherine’s voice calls from up ahead.

  I walk into the living room and spot her on the couch, typing on a laptop on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Take a seat,” she says, gesturing to the other golden suede sofa opposite her. I sit down gently, already deciding that I’ll decline a beverage if she offers me one. This sofa looks more expensive than my car.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why I called you here?”

  “I did wonder,” I say. Maybe this is the part where she tells me I’ve been a disappointment and my future in Hollywood is over.