Page 46 of Ambiguous
Then the boa turns into chains that hold me in place.
Sam looks up, a tear streaking down his face, and I wake up on a gasp, to a knock on my bedroom door.
I’m utterly disoriented, because the dream felt real. I’ve been on stage so many times, and I think I’ve even worn that outfit.
Normally, when I sing, I feel like I’m winning. Right now, though, I feel like I lost something I maybe never had.
Bleary-eyed, I look up from where I’m sprawled on my stomach and see my brother in my doorway. Colin’s dressed and ready to go somewhere. I’m not sure what time it is, so it must be later than I imagine.
Stretching, I gather the sheets and tug them up, then sit against my headboard.
I’m still lost in thoughts of Sam. In thoughts of his kiss.
Which I can’t have again until I finish this album.
“Jules,” Colin whispers, “I hate to bother you, but can I borrow some money? Nat’s got control of the bank accounts, and she’s taken me off.”
I yawn. “Good morning to you, too, Colin.”
“Yes, sorry. Morning. Sorry. I’m just panicked, because I have some bills to pay and I can’t get to my money.”
Like this is the first time he’s asked me for a loan.
Loans he’s never repaid.
But then I think about him with a dirty face and bare knees in that home in London. And I never want him to go without.
Will I miss the money if I give it to him? No. And what is family for, if not to help each other out?
Especially when we’re the only ones left.
I take my phone and transfer what he asks for to his new account. “Done.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
I shrug and turn over, wishing I could go back to my dream.
Just so I could see Sam again.
* * *
That evening, I take a wary step out of the town car and try not to cringe.
A loud scream rises, the screeches like those of birds. But they’re here for me. The Hillions. I love them. I can’t lose them.
I smile and am grateful for sunglasses to counteract the flashing lights. I raise my hand and wave to everyone, turning up the charm. My charm thermostat is normally set pretty high, but I can always give a little more.
The only person I feel like I’m myself around is Sam.
Christ. I have Sam on the brain.
This is a special meet-and-greet event for fans who’ve donated to a charity or won tickets. It’s always a tough balance—I want to raise money for good causes, but I don’t want to exclude my fans who aren’t well-off. So I try to make sure there are at least some opportunities to get in without a lot of cash changing hands.
Loren hired me a bodyguard for tonight. I try to get around without one, but in crowds like this, there’s no help for it.
But after the initial frenzy, this crowd seems patient enough to wait their turn. They know I’ll stay until the last of them gets their photo or autograph or whatever. I sign phone cases and album covers and skin. I take photo after photo, shake hands, give hugs.
“The Hillions are the best,” I muse to Loren as we wait for another person to come up.
