Page 65 of Pretty Obsessed

"Lowe?" I said before he could hang up.

"Yes?"

"What made you call me?"

"Caspian."

My insides clenched. "What did he do?"

"Left. Alexander asked me to find him to talk to Iris since you weren't here and when I told him, he told me he wasn't in the mood for Iris' antics, and he left." Lowe didn't sound like he had an opinion of it. Nor that he condemned Cas for what he'd done.

If the band was divided up into close friendships the first year, it would have been Lowe and Cas then Iris and I, with Alister going back and forth.

When Iris and Cas started spending all their time together was about the same time Lowe had started spending a lot more time with musicians outside the band. He wrote with a lot of others and even more of late, especially the up-and-coming musician and his best friend, Saint Vincent.

I couldn't blame him. I'd want to get away from all the drama as well. It was probably easier.

"So Alexander had no one else to talk Iris off the ledge?"

"No, you were the last resort, I can only assume." He had a wonderful little Southern drawl and loved to play the part of America's sweetheart—and he got away with it, too, even when breaking numerous hearts.

The fans were always on his side. It made me wonder what he'd have to do to turn them against him.

"And you're worried about Cas?" How had I turned into the peacemaker? Probably because I was the oldest.

"Yes. It's not like him to just walk out on me."

"Well, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a few hours."

"I have to be in L.A. in the morning."

"For what?" I asked pinching the bridge of my nose. "I'm guessing you can't get out of it?”

"Saint and I are fitting in a writing session for his new album before we leave again."

"You need to go."

"And what if I have nothing to come back to?" he asked tentatively.

"Iris won't leave. I'll talk him down." Something bad must have happened. It was the only answer. Iris and Cas needed to figure out their mess. This fight while not usual for them, had extended too long.

"Can you check in on Cas, too?" he asked.

"Sure." I wanted to punch him in the throat for continuing to do what he was doing to Iris, but I wouldn't if only for Lowe's sake. "I should call Alexander."

We hung up and I stared into the dark. I couldn't move. The relief too intense. I had to sit with myself for a few moments. Sit with my emotions. The highs and lows of this week cracked my soul. I needed to work them out and process them. But I knew I wouldn't have the chance. Not going into whatever was going on with Iris and then Japan. So I sat with myself, in the quiet for the rest of the car ride, ignoring the buzzing of my phone.

I tossed it on the seat next to me.

Would I ever be able to have the stillness I'd felt in the cabin again? Would I be able to have those things in my chosen profession? With Emory or without. I couldn't delude myself to think he felt the way I did, but what if that was my only shot at the quiet happiness that had been missing from my life.

I mourned the loss of it. The potential loss of Emory. Grieving all I'd have to give up to keep being River Wade. Like it or not. Even if I quit tomorrow, I'd still be this person. My music had been up for public consumption, and I may fade into obscurity if I quit tomorrow, but none of it would ever completely go away.

This was the reality of the music industry. We handed children over to the fame monster, gave them more money than God, set them free into the world, and they chased it without knowing the consequences.

I had to remind myself why I did this. Because I loved my art. I loved making music and everything that came with it, good and bad was out of my control. I offered it to the universe.

If I didn't get the weight off my chest, the weight of my friends, and my fans, and the life I’d chosen, it would drag me down to the bottom of the lake.

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