Page 33 of Next to Everything We Wanted
“Pink flavors are superior,” Celeste said as she ate a spoonful. Everything she did was attractive, even licking a freaking spoon. I didn’t appreciate the way it made my stomach flip.
I took a bite, the rich flavor melting into my mouth. “I hate that you’ve hogged this for so long, Ellis.”
“Dairy is bad for the voice,” Ellis said. “I didn’t want you guys sitting around eating ice cream all day, only for your vocal cords to self-destruct, or however it works.” He shrugged. “I never did the research.”
“Who has?” Celeste flipped through a few stations on our TV. Something caught her attention and made her stop in her tracks. “Oh, gosh.”
“She’s on the celebrity news?” Forrest groaned as if he’d been told he had to wake up early the next day. “Man, I thought she’d finally fallen off the face of the earth. Or at least gotten fired.”
On the screen, Ruby Estrella, one of our old managers at Mercury Heights Records, talked to the reporter about some up-and-coming artist who’d recently been signed after having a few viral videos. Just seeing her red lips move sent irritation through me. Out of everyone at Mercury Heights, she and Gary were the worst.
You’re nothing without us,Gavin Hanville, and everyone knows it,her words echoed in my brain. Just watch your career crash and burn as soon as you get out of this contract. Will that really make you happy?
I clenched my fists.
“Gary would never fire any of his winged monkeys,” Celeste muttered as she stabbed her ice cream. “Even though it’s obvious she wants to take over one day. She’s like one of their lab rats who goes along with everything and does it all wrong. The lab rat that wants to take over the big dog in the end.”
Forrest raised an eyebrow at her. “That analogy makes no sense.”
“You get what I mean.”
“I really don’t.”
“Guys, this is ruining our ice cream,” Ellis said. “Can we watch something else?”
“At least it makes me feel better that Mercury Heights seems to be struggling afterA Search for Starswas canceled,” Celeste continued. “I mean, they’re sinking as low as hiring social media singers.”
Forrest chuckled. “Superlow.”
“Move on to something else,” Phoenix snapped. “Please.”
Forrest and Celeste held up their hands.
We kept eating our ice cream, though I tried to ignore the sick feeling that washed over me. We didn’t need to know any more about Ruby Estrella, Gary Cole, or anyone else at Mercury Heights. We couldn’t erase anything that’d happened to us there, but at least we could move forward.
Which was why having someone know my real name could only be the beginning of the end.
Most of our fans didn’t come to What Do You Bean on Mondays, but our social media post at noon worked its magic. When Istepped onto the stage, the crowd roared like I’d just given the best performance of my life.
Heat flushed to my cheeks. “Thank you, guys,” I said into the microphone, strapping my guitar over me with shaky hands. “I’m sorry that I was sick. Who knew the flu could be so brutal?” I cringed. What had happened to my charm? “How are you feeling tonight, What Do You Beaners?”
The crowd gave me their usual cheers, a few fans screaming at the top of their lungs like they were at a concert.
“Whoa, let’s not get too wild, now.” I chuckled. “Don’t want to get noise complaints from angry shoppers. Then again, how the heck can they hear us from over there? I want to know where I can get hearing like that.”
The audience laughed.
I glanced at the booth not too far from the stage, and the tightness in my chest loosened. She wasn’t here. Maybe she hadn’t seen the post or decided to stay home.
What did it matter that a fan knew my first name? I wasn’t the only person on the planet named Gavin. And it wasn’t like she’d be guessing my history off the bat.He’s probably an ex-celebrity recovering from his past and trying to live a normal life again. I’m so blasting this for the entire world to see!
I’d taken the weekend to clear my headspace and surround it with what I loved about my job. Performing at What Do You Bean was the reason I loved being in Somewhere in the Sky. I lived off the audience’s energy. The people, the smiles, the excitement. I needed it to breathe, to circulate blood through my veins.
I couldn’t waste my life worrying about the little people.
I started singing “What We’ve Left Behind,” the song Forrest had sung on Friday night. The audience seemed alive as they swayed their heads and put on their flashlights. Just like that, I was back into the rhythm.
After finishing the first song, I said with a smile, “Now, that’s much better than hearing Everett sing it, isn’t it?”
