Page 99 of Between Never and Forever
“It looks so real.” His eyes drop back to mine, searching for something I feel in my chest, then scanning my face. “It looks so fucking real.”
I don’t know what to say, and I hate feeling vulnerable, so I hop back on the offensive.
“Brynn’s going to ask you if I can give her guitar lessons.”
The weird emotions from seconds ago disappear from his features.
“Savannah,” he says, but this time it’s more irritated than angry. “You can’t.”
Now it’s my turn to scoff.
“Fine. Tell her no, then. You can be the one to disappoint her, because I refuse. It won’t be me.”
I’m still grappling with the fact that I’ve disappointed hundreds of thousands of fans. Little girls just like Jessica from our last show at the Garden. Fans just like Brynn. I hate being the cause of it all, but I don’t know how to fix it in a way that won’t lead to my own permanent destruction.
A voice sounds out over a speaker, and we both look in the direction of the cameras. We’re going to start shooting again. I have to go get my makeup touched up.
I glance down at my outfit. I probably should have changed out of it before break, but thankfully it looks fine. It’s just jeans, a white tank top, and a black bomber jacket. I’m supposed to be running through the streets of Portofino in search of my sister who has been kidnapped, so it looks better a little rumpled.
“Break a leg,” Levi grumbles, and part of me thinks he might mean it literally.
He turns to stalk off, but just before he disappears around the corner of the set, I let myself ask the question that’s been bugging me since the café. It comes out bitter and hurt.
“Where is she? Your once. Yourone. Where is she?”
He stops, but he doesn’t turn around.
I watch every muscle in his back tense under his plain blue t-shirt. For a moment, I think he might answer me, but then he steps around the corner without another word. Without even looking back.
I feel just as small as I did in my dingy rental house in Florida. Only then, I told him to leave. This time, he’s done it on his own.
It’s not until Levi’s gone that a wet nose nudges my hand, and I realize Ziggy followed me. My girl has been here the whole time. She probably sensed my distress. That or she smells club sandwich on me. Either way, I fucking adore this rude, mannerless, super loveable jerk of a dog.
“C’mon, ZeeZee,” I say to her, scratching quickly at the spot just above her tail, and we head back to set.
Red takes Ziggy, Tatum and Pax take fifteen minutes to fuss over my makeup and “fluff” my hair, and Levi and Brynnlee are nowhere to be found.
Then, I nail my crying scene.
The sobbing, the snotting, the full-on ugly cry. I’m actually afraid to see it on the big screen. I know for a fact it looks authentic because itwasauthentic.
Levi is dredging up all sorts of shit I’d rather not deal with again. Shit that’s always sent me on a fucking bender in the past. This is how it would begin. I’d feel inadequate and lonely, and I’d start to replayeverything. Start to blame myself. Then, to shut it all up, I’d use.
I’d use drugs to make me think less. I’d use Torren to make me feel wanted and special. I’d use music to disconnect. I’d black out, write music, and play up the chaotic artistic rockstar angle because it was the only tangible thing I had.
I have to cut it off at the root before it takes me over completely.
Like I’m going to take the word of someone in and out of rehab.
God, what a prick. He’s right, but he’s still a prick. It makes me even more determined to keep it together. Out of rehab, yeah, but not back in. Not again.
I change, wash my face, then head back to my rental and take an hour-long shower. I make myself one of those mocktail old fashioneds with black tea that I hate, and I take it to the roof to sip as I sit around a small fire. I listen to the cars and the breeze and the cicadas and frogs.
Without overthinking, I pull up the nearly abandoned group text with the band and send a photo of my view. I make sure my drink isn’t in it. It’s a mocktail, but I don’t feel like having to clarify that.
Mabel and Torren react immediately. Torren likes the photo and Mabel sends a text that says, “sick view.” I wait a few seconds for Jonah’s text, but it doesn’t come.
And then, on a hunch, I go to my text thread with just Mabel.
