Page 120 of Even Beneath the Stars

But Finn is just starting to feel like he belongs. He’s counting on me. And needs me to be the one thing that staysconstant.

And Maggie?Ineed her. For the first time in my life, I’ve got something that feelsreal.Someone who sees through all my bullshit and actuallylikeswhat’s underneath. I love hanging out with her more than with anyone. I don’twant to leave her behind.

My gaze drops to my phone, as if staring at it will magically solve the equation spinning in my brain. I hate that this incredible,insanething happening—has the potential to clash with the things I care about most.

I rub a hand over my face.

Cam nudges me. “You still breathing, Rockwell?”

I force a smirk. “Barely.”

Liam claps his hands together. “Alright. This is too much insanity. I need a break.” He scans the group. “Anyone feel like jamming?”

My muscles un-tense. “Hell, yeah.”

My mother called me three times during lunch today at school. I ignored each one. But now Denise is on my case. Texting with all caps, which means she's not messing around.

Denise

ANSWER YOUR MOTHER'S CALL.

The next time my mother calls, I pick up. Turns out Denise stayed true to her threat last night and filled my parents in on what's been going on when I failed to take action. My father was apparently already aware. Buzz, our security guy, filled him in when he had to up security because flocks of girls have been showing up at the front gate, waiting with their cellphones like I'm some hotshot celebrity. My father didn't see any reason to contact me about any of it though, clearly. It's not hard to read between the lines: he thinks the whole thing is silly and beneath him, and unlikely to last.

On the other hand, I can honestly say I have never heard my mother react so enthusiastically about anything before in my life. She is giddy with excitement. Biting at the bit to hear more about the celebrities who commented on the videos of me singing, which record labels contacted me, and what famous musicians they work with.

No surprise, she doesn't ask about the actual song. Or the band, even."You never told me you're in a band, baby. How fun!"

She didn't even know I play guitar. Definitely didn't know I sing.

But she's thrilled at the idea of her own son getting so much public attention. Probably hoping I’ll be the next Mick Jagger, because being able to say she birthed a musical icon would be a few steps up from just being able to say she drank wine with one, I guess.

She wants to fly home tomorrow. But all I can think about is how much that would mess Finn up. And just when things are so good withhim. I convince her not to come back yet, with the promise that I'll keep her in the loop with everything, and that I'll let her know once we've set up meetings with various managers and stuff so she can fly out then. You can't sign a contract with any of these agencies if you're under eighteen without a parent or guardian co-signing. I checked.

Whatever, it's fine. I'll sit through a few hours in a room with a bunch of record execs and my mother. Honestly, it isn't horrible to be doing something for once that she's interested in.

I wrote a song that resonates with people.

Might be the first time in my life I feel proud.

Still, I think of everything that's happened in the past few days, the thing that stands out the most is the fact that I wroteHollow Hallabout feeling alone in a crowd—and that ironically, over seven million people could relate to it.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Xavier

In just two weeks, my life has been turned upside down. My plan up until now was to take a Gap year after graduation, travel, take Finn with me for any of his school breaks, do some volunteer work abroad. Now Salt Vein has a manager, and an album release slated for the fall, and a North American tour starting early this summer at a bunch of festivals and opening for other bigger bands later in the year. Our social media following is still climbing, and our management already has us pre-recording a bunch of videos and clips and social media stuff.

It's weird because the four of us are still pretty much on the same page when it comes to our priorities and where we want this thing to go, which I'm learning for a fresh-sprung group like ours is pretty uncommon. We all want to take advantage of this massive boost, but we also don't want to sacrifice the music for popularity, especially since this particular brand of popularity can be fleeting. And if that's the case, then we want to be able to say we gave whatever fans we made quality music over quantity half-assed garbage. Which is why we stuck hard to our decision to only agree to eight songs on the first album. Think we stunned the execs on that one. And in the end, we prevailed—eight songs.

Through this whole whirlwind, I’m more grateful for Maggie than ever. She hasn’t changed around me one iota. When I feel like my head is spinning or like I can't take any more of the bullshit that comes along with even the tiny sliver of fame Salt Vein has experienced at a rapid-fire pace, she brings me back to ground zero. Calms me down. Makes me laugh. Puts things in perspective. It's making me fall for her even harder. Also, it's scaring me more, too. BecauseI'm more aware than ever how much I want her. Hell, how much Ineedher. And conversely, how screwed I would be without her.

And given everything she now has to deal with on top of the baggage I already showed up to the table with, there's no way there won't at least be some pull on her part to move on to something easier. Someone who can meet her on the same level, maybe—without the insanity and smoke and mirrors that seems to come with my world, in whichever capacity it takes shape.

I haven't been to her home yet—met her mother. It's shitty of me to keep putting it off, after I agreed on a date that night in the hot tub—even though, yeah, postponing it is mostly due to how crazy things have been with everything going down with the band. Still, I could have made it happen, and Maggie knows that. And has been patient despite voicing her frustration.

But I can't tell her I'm putting it off because I know what I'll be faced with when I do go—concrete proof that her world is normal and happy and perfect. A glaring contradiction to my messed-up, fake, complicated world. Further proof that she should be with someone better than me. Harder for me to deny the truth, once I'm faced with tangible proof that I'm right.

But the date has been set now, and she told me in no uncertain terms, she's holding me to it this time. We're going to her house for dinner on Thursday. Backing out is not an option.

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