Page 113 of Disharmony

Ripper and Venom would be mad I’ve seen her, but I had to. I had to see for myself she didn’t recognize me to know we are still safe. The girl with the guitar on the other side of the room looks at me like a stranger, but she has no idea she’s seen the three of us in our rawest form.

Does she think about us?

Does she think of what we did together when she is alone in her cabin?

“Zach?” Her voice sends a lightning bolt to my cock, remembering how she moaned my name. “Do you have the music?”

“Of course,” I say in my clipped, professional voice, heading into the adjoining room to hit play.

Her voice is beautiful but restrained. Watching McCallister tear her down made me want to pummel the fuckers face into the stage. It’s good Ripper isn’t around. He’s almost torn down the beach house as it is.

I understand why McCallister is unhappy with her. She’s different. Raw. Unique. Emotions guide her voice. All of her pain and happiness comes out, and it’s stunning, yet heartbreaking. McCallister doesn’t see her the way I do. He wants her to sing like Tiffany Lockhart, the girl whose parents have raised her for this moment.

“Try the last line again,” I say, “project more.”

The more she sings like this, the more her body shrinks into itself. Her shoulders slump, and the sparkle in her eyes vanishes. This isn’t the same girl who took the stage by my side and stole my breath away with her unwavering roar. After a few more tries, I see I’m getting nowhere. The longer Ash tries to be what she thinks other people want, the more I lose her.

I hold up my hand through the glass. “Take five.”

She nods. I grab a bottle of water and hold it out for her.

“Thanks,” she says, gracing me with a small smile as she takes it from me.

She rarely smiles at Zach. Why would she? I represent everything she hates, and I can’t blame her. When I look at myself in the mirror, or see myself in those fucking commercials or videos, I see what she sees, and I hate myself too.

My cell buzzes, and my eyes widen as I see the text. “Fuck.”

Ash jumps. Swearing is not something the Lionheart frontman does, but it’s too late. There’s nothing I can do about what’s going to happen. A second later, the studio door swings open and my mom bursts in.

“Mom,” I greet her coldly with a fake smile. I despise how she thinks it’s acceptable to drop in unannounced like I’m still a child. She stays in touch with Jacqueline to watch my every move. No matter how hard I try to avoid her, she always finds a way to corner me when I’m least expecting it. “What a surprise.”

She looks perfect as usual. Vivian Royal goes nowhere without a hair out of place. I remember spending hours waiting for her to get ready as a kid. She spent hours changing outfits and screaming at Dad for not buying her handbags. I never blamed him for leaving.

Her quest for perfection took its toll on him and the whole family. That, and her coke-fueled, lamp-throwing mood swings sent him straight into the arms of a younger woman. Not that she would ever admit that. Vivian Royal never shows weakness and projects that onto the rest of us. We all have to be perfect.

“Darling,” she coos, kissing me on both cheeks. “I was here for lunch and thought I’d drop by to see my favorite son.”

I’m her favorite son until my brother, Elliot, wins an Oscar or my sister, Lacey, gets her second cover on Vogue. Success in the Royal family is an indicator of how much love she’ll give. I’m aware of Ash pressing herself back against the wall, trying to get out of the situation.

“I can go,” Ash mumbles quietly, hoping to sneak away.

“No,” I say quickly, pulling away from Mom’s embrace “We’re not finished here yet.”

“Look at you, taking your work as a mentor seriously,” Mom mocks and wags her finger. “But we have important real-world stuff to talk about, like whether you’ll be coming to my latest film premiere. I want you on the red carpet with me. It’ll be good for publicity. It’s been so long since we were pictured together as a family.”

“We can talk about that later,” I say firmly. “I’m in the middle of something. I am finishing this session with Ashley.”

Mom purses her lips together and turns her attention to Ash, who squirms under her scrutiny. Her judgmental stare is enough to make anyone feel insecure. Mom sniffs, then turns back to me, plastering on a wider smile to let me know I’m testing her patience. She doesn’t like it when I go against her wishes, which is why I spend as much time as possible on the road away from her. She has her life, and I have mine. I keep contact to a minimum.

“Zachary,” Mom uses her condescending tone. “I said, we need to have an important conversation. You can cut your pretend teacher act. What can you really teach the girl, anyway? You’re just a pretty face.”

“He’s a good teacher,” a small voice pipes up.

What?

“Excuse me?” Mom spins around, looking at Ash properly for the first time. “Did you say something?”

Ash’s eyes dart over to me quickly, then return to my mom’s disapproving glare.

---