Page 47 of Paint the Town, Dove
“Ow!” She squealed. “I was just teasing.”
“Tease less,” I snapped, surveying the area for watchful eyes.
“No paps, Scar, I checked.” Ryden poured me another glass from the pitcher.
“You don’t exactly have a bird’s eye view.”
He gave me a look that saidcome on.
“Why are you even here?” I asked, coming off ruder than I meant to. “Reschedule soundcheck, fine, but you’ve got a meeting with Tav at six.”
Now this, he didn’t account for. “Do I?”
I rolled my eyes, already pulling up Tav’s contact. “Do you not keep track of your own schedule?”
His lips lifted into a smirk. “You are my schedule.”
I glared at him, my patience waning.
Eventually, he let up, lifting out of his chair. “Can I borrow the boss, ladies? I’ll return her safely.”
“Well duh,” Zayla shooed me away, eagerly. “Go, do famous people things.”
“We will,” he smiled, sliding my seat out from the table.
“I didn’t consent to this,” I tried. “It’s my day off.”
But he grabbed my purse and jacket, escorting me out of the restaurant. “You manage the greatest rock star of this generation –”
“The humblest, too.”
“Ah, Scar,” he grinned. “Days off are a luxury.”
“Don’t you think we deserve one?”
His lips folded into a thin line. It wasn’t a joke, we both knew that. In every circumstance, it served as a nasty reminder of the life we lived before this one.
No days off.
Always running.
Trading a life of privacy for press.
Trading rundown rooms for rumours.
Trading childhood for change.
We no longer struggled the way we used to, but our innocence was never discovered or explored – we were forced into one pitiful life, thrusted into the next.
Never a decision based off our own merit. We did what we had to do.
Idid what we had to do.
And I could never undo it, not for a second.
I thought living this life would fix all our problems – it only paid off our debt. But I,we, sold ourselves in different ways.
You can’t get that kind of money back. It’s not a currency.
