Page 94 of Not Another Rockstar
“Did you put Helen up to this?” Phoebe asked. “You knew Axel and I have been together since Italy. Did you want to ruin any chance for us with rumour and speculation? Have the world blame us for Cillian’s death because he found out about an affair that never happened?”
“I would never do anything to hurt you,” Anita said, gawking. “I’ve dedicated the last ten years of my life to you all.”
“And made plenty of money doing it. Was this your way of trying to break us up?” Axel asked coldly.
“I would never want the band to break up. You can’t believe any of this,” Anita said, but there were no tears, no pleading, only a smug dismissal that felt anything but genuine.
“With Sheen gone, there was no one left to torment us. Did you want to finish what he started?” Phoebe pressed.
“Can you blame me for wanting to get rid of you? The closer you get to them, the bigger the mess you make.”
There it was. The truth.
“I’ve been with them longer than you, and I’ll still be by their side long after you. Get out of this house and don’t come back,” Phoebe barked, and no one tried to intervene.
“You can’t tell me when to leave,” Anita snarked.
“Yes, she can, this is her house,” Nick said sharply. “Get out, and Olivier will be informed that you are no longer welcome.”
“Firing me? You can’t be serious. It was one interview; your relationship was going to come out eventually.”
“You wanted us to be painted as the villains, for our relationship to have caused the death of our friend!” Phoebe exclaimed.
“Anita, leave before we have Olivier escort you from the grounds,” Axel ordered, getting between them.
As Anita left, the interview replayed in Phoebe’s mind on a loop. Anita had tried to use Helen against them, but failed to understand her connection with the band. Helen had loved them all, not just Cillian. Anita underestimated her—but what else had she orchestrated? Could she have been behind Sheen? He’d been desperate for any connection to the band, making him easy to manipulate.
Phoebe shook off the thought.There is no way Anita would’ve worked with Sheen. She might want me gone, but dead feels too far of a stretch.
Phoebe was painting a one-eyed blue alien with a guitar when she heard the studio door open.
“I’m surprised to find you in here,” Axel said. “I thought you’d be too sore to work after physio?”
“Painting after the sessions helps me maintain my mobility, otherwise my hand gets too stiff. The thicker brushes I found are helping, and even if I’m too sore to hold a pencil and sketch out new work, I can finish painting up this little guy. It’s a present for August’s birthday,” she said, sitting back to admire the adorable guitar-wielding alien sitting on Mars. Even in pain, being surrounded by the colours and the smell of the paint helped her find some relief.
“Space, guitar and an alien with a mohawk, he’s going to love it,” Axel said, admiring the canvas. “Speaking of gifts, there’s something I want to give you.”
She turned on her stool to face him as his tone turned serious.
“It’s not my birthday for another month.” She wiped her stained hands on a cloth on her easel.
“It’s not a birthday present,” he said, avoiding her gaze as he sat on the arm of the couch beside her. “With everything happening with Sheen, I put off giving this to you. Now that things have calmed down, I thought it was time.”
“You’re making me nervous,” she said, and then she recognised the journal he took out from behind his back. She’d looked for it herself after Helen’s TV interview. “Why do you have Cillian’s journal?”
“I found it when I picked out his funeral clothes. I was afraid to give it to you in case the answers inside hurt you, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, and I’ve no right to decide what you can or can’t handle.”
“I thought it was probably sent with some of his other stuff to his mum,” she said, flicking through the first few pages. Seeing Cillian’s handwriting stirred up her grief, but it didn’t cut like it used to. “I tried looking for it after Helen’s interview. Thought it might have some answers, to see what was going on in his mind during those last few weeks, or months. Without knowing whether we could really trust if Sheen was behind the harassment, I think I was looking for closure in some form or another.”
“I’m sorry I kept it from you,” he said, brushing his lips against her cheek.
“Don’t be. If you’d given it to me back then, I probably would’ve burnt it,” she said. She still wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know Cillian’s secrets.
“And I wouldn’t have blamed you. I’ll be down in the studio if you need me,” he said, kissing her hair before closing the door behind him.
She closed the lids of her paints, staring at the journal on the stool beside her. Flicking through the pages, she skipped to the last half-finished entry.
I fucked up royally. Phoebe is never going to forgive me when she finds out. Someone already knows, and it’s only a matter of time before she leaves me for good. I thought proposing would fix everything, and if we could have just eloped like I wanted when we were in Italy then she might be more reluctant to leave me, but now that Helen is having my baby, I’m going to lose everything. Nick warned me that if I didn’t get my act together he’d tell her about the cheating, and I wouldn’t blame him. He already looks at me differently now, like I’m a walking disappointment, and when he finds out about the baby, I’m afraid they’ll kick me out of the band. I don’t want to lose them, I can’t lose Phoebe and my brothers…
