Page 83 of Paint the Town, Dove
“Ryden, there will be a lot of people and you perform tomorrow.”
Mallory. Behind me.
Kind voice.
Worried.
“SPECTRE! SPECTRE! SPECTRE!”
Fans.
Cheering.
Outside.
“Grab my arm,” Morty. Sighing.
“We’ll hold onto him. He just needs to show his face, right Ryden?” Hands. Pinching my cheeks. “Smile for the cameras.”
Blinding light.
Everywhere.
My own.
Personal.
Hell.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Scarlett
“Because we’re here, in this town. Together. Forever. Even when we’re gone… we’re still here”
“You’re finally here!”
Polly and Zayla found me before I could pass the threshold, nodding at security, then leading me deeper into the bowels of Ryden’s celebratory tour party.
Being in this industry, you have to know that rich people celebrate everything.
Cat died? Poor thing, let’s host a gala in commemoration of their life.
Oh no! Stranger spat on you today?Drinks on us!
Ryden’s tour coming to an end? Obviously that was a means to celebrate, but none of these people really gave a shit about him. None of these people knew the struggle it took to get here.
That’s why despite my feelings on the matter, I still showed up.
Not only because of history, but because I knew he deserved it. Every last bit of praise.
He deserved it.
You both do, Emory would’ve said.
Maybe her ghostly advice had some influence on my decision. Ryden could thank her in prayer later.
Oh Emory. Still showing up from six feet under.
