Page 2 of Damsel in Defense
All of that can be seen in the photo.
But that’s not what really happened.
Back on booze?When had I ever been on?
“See?It’s not good.”
My heart beats rapidly in my chest as I continue to click on a few more links.All of them are saying the same thing.
I’m angry and devastated.I’m a thousand different emotions, but I can’t vocalize any of them.I’m used to the media spewing lies, but they seem to really be focusing their filth my way recently.
“Again?”I grunt.“Again?When was the first time?I was twenty-one the last time I had a drink, and I stopped drinking that year because I saw too many people in the rock world lose everything because of it.How abouttheyprintthatstory.”I toss my phone on the bed.“Jackasses.”
I force the edges of my lips into a small smile and shake my hair back over my shoulders, hoping to lighten the mood.
It doesn’t work.
“This isn’t good, Tori.This could really damage your career.Even if we do get a new album out this year.”
God, a new album.I can’t wrap my head around that yet.How am I supposed to release a new album when my writing muse is suddenly silent?
“I get that, Cece, but rehab is not the answer.Can’t we just issue a statement?Or just ignore it?”
“No, we can’t ignore it.This is the third time this month that you’ve been pictured stumbling and not looking completely…there.”
“You know why,” I say to her softly.
“I know,” she sighs.“But unless you want to share that reason with the world, this is the only solution I can think of at the moment.”
“Then keep thinking,” I tell her as my spine straightens and my resolve turns to steel.“You keep thinking of how we should respond that doesn’t include me going to rehab when I’ve been sober for years or me sharing my deepest, darkest pain with complete strangers.I’m not ready for that.”
Cece opens her mouth, clearly ready to debate, but I won’t have it.I cut her off.“I understand your side, and I do see how me going to rehab would help with my image.But if I go, I’ll just be taking the spot of someone else who really needs to be there to get help.Not just a publicity stunt.And I refuse to take resources away from people who need the support.”
It takes a minute of unflinching staring, but Cece finally nods.
“Fine.But you better be on your best behaviour tonight at Henrik’s wedding.No more caught-off-guard pictures.We’ll connect tomorrow morning and go from there.Deal?”
“Deal.”I give her a genuine smile.
“That dress looks lovely on you,” Cece says, surprising me with the change of topic.
My mood instantly lifts, and my chest warms at her soft compliment.Running my hands down the delicate violet fabric of my dress, I can’t help but agree with Cece—this dress is truly something else.
My brother’s soon-to-be wife, Bryn, had taken me aside at their engagement party and asked me to be her maid of honour.Holding both of my hands in hers as she stared deeply into my eyes, she’d explained that she and Henrik wanted a small, intimate wedding and would both only have one person in their wedding parties.
“Since you’re one of Henrik’s favourite people—and I hope one of mine, too, soon—I wanted to ask you if you’d stand with us.”
The memory is still so fresh in my mind.I’d cried, obviously, and yanked her into my arms as I hiccupped a yes.I had been truly shocked and so moved that she’d picked me.After all, Bryn was a huge Hollywood celebrity and had a ton of friends—at least I thought so.Her thinking of me for this role was touching.
The medium violet colour looks great against my lightly tanned skin and summer-kissed red hair.The corset top hugs me just right and flares out at the hips, gently falling to the floor.In true Bryn fashion, she’d nixed my idea of high heels and insisted I wear comfortable flats.I learned that day that she truly, truly hated heels and went out of her way not to wear them if she could help it.
It was her wedding day; she could call the shots.
Blinking out of my thoughts, I finger the fabric again quickly before giving Cece my focus.“Thank you.”From the corner of my eye, I see my cell screen light up.
Stepping over to grab it, I catch the time.
“Oh, shit.I need to go.I’m supposed to be downstairs by now,” I say as I start frantically tossing items into my clutch and giving myself a last quick look-over.The concealer under my eyes is working overtime to hide the purple bags, but other than that, I look good.Really good if I do say so myself.Even my hair has decided to cooperate today.
