Page 115 of Beautiful Distraction

I frown at his words. “What’s hard for you?”

“To like the business. To be excited about it. I hate myjob.”

Unsure whether I’ve heard him right, I stare at him. “Idon’t understand. I thought it was your dream. You and your brothers had aband.”

“There’s a difference between a hobby and doing it for fun,and a job, which basically forces you to sell your soul and kills anycreativity,” Kellan says. “Now don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for what I’veaccomplished, but this job, this lifestyle—” he shakes his head “—itdidn’t turn out like I expected. I still enjoy making music. I love writingsongs, but in the end, the label decides which songs are recorded. Most of themaren’t even mine.”

I remain quiet as he continues, “The pressure. The fame. Theconstant traveling. Being stuck on a tour bus. Not able to sing my own songs orplay my own music. It gets to be too much. I kind of realized that being famousand under the wings of a huge record label isn’t how I envisioned my life. Myown songs being buried just because they wouldn’t appeal to thirteen-year-oldgirls sucks.” He sighs. I sense more is coming, so I remain silent out of fearthat pushing him to open up might have the opposite effect. “Look, there’s nodenying that I love singing and playing the guitar, but I don’t want to do itprofessionally. Everything you saw up there, on that stage…that’s not me. Notthe real me anyway. It never was. I just stumbled into it. Ask my brothers, andthey’ll tell you how I was discovered.”

“How?” I ask softly.

“We used to play the weekend gig at the local bar. It wasour way to connect with friends and family. Someone uploaded us on the Internet.One day, a scout saw us live, and he liked what he saw. The next thing I knew,I was offered the lead singer position in a band he was working on creating. Itook him up on the offer, because—” he sighs again “—well, I wasyoung, and vain, and yes, I wanted to be rich.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” I say.

“You need to understand. My family’s just ordinary folks. Weweren’t poor, but we weren’t rich either. It was my opportunity to support myfamily and the people in this town. So it was a closed deal. Five days later, Imoved to Los Angeles, where I met Casper, Derrick, and Rock. They became my newband members. From there, our whole image was created for us, and we were toldwhat to do, who we could date, how we should dress. It’s all part of brandingand image building.We started six yearsago, and now we have six studio albums, two remix albums, and I have a networth of ninety-five million.”

I almost choke on my breath, shocked that he’d just divulgethat last piece of information so honestly. “Wow. That’s a lot of money.”

I don’t know how to take that.

Thatisa lot ofmoney. No wonder he doesn’t trust anyone.

“Yeah, it is,” Kellan says. “But it doesn’t matter if itmakes me miserable. I’ve come to a point where I realize there’s so much more Iwant to do with my life, but I have so little time to explore my interests. Imean, Ryder loves his job. And Cash has built up an entire string of nightclubsfrom nothing and turned them into a huge success over night.” He looks at me,his eyes meeting mine, and his expression softens. “That’s one of the reasons Iquit.”

“You quit?” I ask, confused.

Did I miss something?

What did he quit?

Being a rock star?

It sounds too far-fetched, incredulous.

“I got out of my contract four weeks ago,” he goes on toexplain. “I’m not the lead singer of Mile High anymore.”

“Four weeks ago?”

That was around the time I won the tickets.

“Today was my last gig. It all started here, and this iswhere it all ends.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Wrapping my arms around mywaist, I stare at him, my mind devoid of any thoughts. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” His arms go around my waist, and he pulls me to hischest. “It’s what I want.”

The weak moonlight bathes his face in a golden glow. I takein his beautiful features, the soft smile on his lips, and can’t help butwonder whether someone like him could really be content with the relativelyboring life out here—compared to that of a rock star, of course.

“What brought on such a huge decision?”

He shrugs. “You know how people say fame and wealth changeyou? It’s true. I grew up here; I’m rooted in this kind of life, and yet lifeon the road still changedme. Rock fell into acrack addiction. Derrick’s eight-year marriage broke down because he couldn’tkeep it in his pants. And Casper’s suicidal because he’s gay and in love withour makeup artist, but his contract stipulates that he has to stay in thecloset.” Kellan shakes his head. “It changed us all for the worse. Even me. Thatnight you met me? I was an asshole. I didn’t get why you wouldn’t throwyourself at my feet.”

His honesty renders me speechless.

“My life consisted of groupies, parties, sex. There weredrugs everywhere,” Kellan continues.

“Sounds like every guy’s dream come true,” I mutter.

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