Page 92 of Paint the Town, Dove
I held my breath, repeating those words. “Sing for the people who love you, not for the people who pretend to.”
“That’s what I said, and that’s what I meant.” He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder before exiting, leaving me alone with a Radio City sized hole in my chest.
Sing for the people who love you, not for the people who pretend to.
I’ll try.I’ll try.
Familiar voices howled in the hallway, echoing, seeping underneath the crack of my door. “He better be dressed,” one said. “He better be naked,” another responded.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Any minute now…
“WHO’S READY TO SELL OUT RADIO CITY????” The door flew open, banging against the wall as Donny threw himself over my head, strangling the shit out of my neck.
“It’s been sold out, dumbass,” Derek muttered.
“Ease up, that face sells millions.” Dean leaned against the clothing rack, popping a blue pill into his mouth.
Ever so relaxed, always a wonder why.
My tongue tingled at thethoughtof the taste.
“All our faces,” Derek corrected, shaking out a few pills of his own. “All our faces sell those albums.”
“Dunno Spindly,” Donny shrugged, “the new mullet’s been pussy repellent.”
He popped three. “Yours or mine?”
“We got it at the same time, dip fuck.”
“So you’re inadvertently also calling yourself pussy repellent,” Dean chuckled lowly.
It was silent for a moment until it wasn’t, the lot of us erupting in laughter, the tension in my shoulders easing slowly, ever so slowly.
This.
This side was also my life.
The laughter, thejokes.
These boys. This band.
This legacy.
I couldn’t forget that. It was the only thing keeping me going.
Well that and –
“Where’s Scarlett?” I asked, unable to help myself.
Last night was a haze, the warmth of her holding me a memory within itself. I couldn’t call her, not without Tav and the band hounding me at the tip of dawn to clock in for soundcheck.
Clock in, like it was a fucking chore.
It was what I loved most.
But where was my other half?
