Page 39 of Sycopation
And Carl, who was supposed to be their biggest asset, connection, and promoter to the label,hatedhim. Ray didn’t understand any of it, and between the lack of sleep, the fear, the fucking reporters, and Zavier Demos, he couldn’t think straight.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Ray braced himself for whoever it was. He expected Carl or Zavier, but it was Mish who appeared in the reflection of the vanity. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
Everything. He shook his head.
She sighed and walked into the room. “I haven’t seen you this upset since Kevin...”
There was the other part he hadn’t wanted to think about, but the reporters kept dragging it up. “How do you feel about Kevin Schmidt being destitute while you’re touring the US with your new drummer?”
Like fucking shit. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Did you know about Kevin?” He hadn’t heard a damn thing from anyone, and as far as he knew, no one else had, either.
Mish turned him around and pulled him into a hug. “He’s not out on the street or anything. He’s living with his mom while he gets back on his feet.”
Ray tried to keep the anger in, tried to keep the pain from spilling out of his mouth. “Youknewwhat happened to Kevin!”
She didn’t let him go. Not that he wanted that anyway. Someone caring about him felt nice, and Mish always had his back. She rocked him slightly. “He emailed me back when we were getting ready for the tour. Wanted me to know he was okay and getting help and that he appreciated your letter.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” His head and heart hurt. Couldn’t he trust anyone anymore?
A sigh. “He asked me not to. Knew it would upset you. Wanted you to focus on the band, not him.”
He muttered his words into Mish’s shoulder. “I’m supposed to be protecting you guys, not the other way around.”
A soft chuckle. “Hon, we’re here for each other.”
Typical wonderful Mish, always watching out for them. When Ray had started fucking members of the crew, Mish had pulled him aside.“Be good to them, Ray, ’cause they’re giving you a lot by saying yes. And for god’s sake, tell me you’re on PrEP and using condoms.”He was and did, and he had taken her advice to heart.
She opened space between them. “You gotta let this shit roll off you.”
He wanted to. Desperately. But every time his head cleared a bit and he could breathe and see, something else came to shove him back into the chaos surrounding him. Too bad the crew was totally different this tour—and as far as he could tell, not a single guy was even the least bit interested in him, or he’d have the stress relief he needed and stop taking it out on everyone else. “That reporter’s gonna have quite a story.”
“Maybe.” There was resignation in her tone. “I’m not worried about the reporter.”
He hadn’t just flipped off that asshole. Ray leaned his ass against the vanity. “I take it Zavier is pissed.”
Mish pulled a chair out and sat down. “Don’t know. Sometimes he’s hard to read.”
Too hard, lately. “What happened after I left?”
She filled him in. His outburst had ended the interview, and the reporter packed up his shit and left. Zavier had sat for a while, then stood and walked out of the room without saying a word.
“He didn’t look angry. More...concerned, I guess.” She paused. “Is there something going on between you two?”
Other than years of resentment and desire? “No.”
Mish was a shrewd, shrewd woman, and that one raised eyebrow told Ray she didn’t believe him.
“There’s nothing going on. I’m not even sure he likes me.”
She shook her head. “You’re not even sure helikesyou? Fucking hell, Ray.” She threw up her hands and rose from the chair. “I can’t help you with what’s right under your nose.” With that, she left the dressing room.
Great. Zavier pissed. Mish pissed. Maybe he should hunt down Dom and make sure all of his bandmates were mad at him, just to keep things even. But before he could even push himself off the edge of the vanity, Carl stood in the doorway.
Great. Fuckingstellar.
“Do we need to have another discussion, Ray?”
Carl’s voice scraped along every last one of Ray’s nerves. “No.”
