Page 70 of The Librarian and the Rock Star

“It’s too much, too fast. I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“I know that you are.”

“But that’s my decision, not yours.” His dark eyes looked positively haunted, but I had to get out of there. “I’ll call you later.”

My phone set in airplane mode, I spent the next several hours walking slowly around Montreal, stopping for tea, for snacks, browsing in little bookshops and taking endless photos of distressed brick and old paint textures. I finally turned my phone back on and ignored the slew of texts and voicemails, posting a ton of photos without even having the focus to tag them.

I felt like I should be processing what happened, but I couldn’t think. My brain had shut down. I was numb.

Tiptoeing out of my comfort zone was one thing, but being kicked out of it by things beyond my control was too much. The stress was crushing me, and I felt like my chest was wrapped in a lead blanket, tightening, pressing into me from every direction. An air pressure headache throughout my entire body.

41. Soundcheck

I didn’t know what I wanted to say to Jack, but I felt that not arriving at the show might put him in a funk, and the band really needed to kick ass tonight. I’d have to put my stress and sorrow on the back burner for now, so that he could get his job done. Even though we obviously couldn’t be together, maybe I could keep it together for the rest of the weekend. My meandering walking led me straight to the Tremblay Concert Hall.

Me: Hey Kelly, I’m outside at the load-in entrance. Can you let me in?

Kelly: Be right there.

The door opened, and a huge security guard who was built like a tank with a remarkably sweet face leaned out. “Keira?”

“Yes!” I ran in the open door to where Kelly was charging down the hall to meet me.

“Thanks, Steve. This is Keira, she’s a VIP, close friend of the band.”

He shook my hand. “Nice to meet you. Please holler if you ladies need anything else.”

“Listen,” Kelly said, hanging a huge yellow laminate around my neck then leading me to an alcove beside the stage, “I hope it’s okay that I sent Jack a text that you’re here, and you’re with me, so he’ll stop checking his phone every ten seconds.”

“It’s okay.”

“Now, I’m trying to collect evidence on all of the crap Paul’s been up to. Can I leave you here for a few minutes? You can listen to part of soundcheck if you like. The balcony is up there. I’ll be back in a bit, or text me.”

“Sure.”

She took off down the hall, as I climbed the few metal steps to a little hallway that led up to the balcony. It looked like the band were finished with soundcheck, and just dorking around.

“I have an idea for the chorus,” Marky said. “What if I made it softer, and moodier, like this?” He played a strange harmonic riff, stepping on a few guitar pedals that made his chords sound dreamier.

“Cool,” said Tate. “And I’ll lay off the crash for that part so they can hear the words more clearly.”

“Perfect, thanks,” Jack said. “Let’s just quickly go through that chorus again?”

They broke into a brand new song, which was very soft and pretty compared to the rest of their tunes which were a harder-edged rock. But I instantly recognized the lyrics, which I had seen on scribbled on a coffee table almost exactly a week ago.

“Stalking your little boyfriend?” a voice behind me sneered. I spun to face Paul, who had appeared out of nowhere and was looking at me like I was something he wanted to scrape off his shoe. “You think that flouncing around town taking party photos with fans is the way to market a band?”

“Well, it’s one way to fill a venue when the promoter can’t be bothered to do their job.” The words flew out before I could stop them, and instead of being embarrassed, all I felt was rage. The band had started up again, so nobody could hear our little squabble.

He laughed, cruelly. “Idiot groupie. You’ll be gone in a week, and some other chick will be spreading her legs for him. Don’t think you’re here for keeps.”

“Nothing is permanent,” I said coldly. “Not even if baby brother is the head of the record company, giving his loser brother a job out of pity.”

Paul glared at me as if I had just punched him. “What the fuck kind of horseshit is that?” he said snidely, but I could see in his eyes he was horrified that I’d found him out.

“Tell me Paul, are you upset that Jason is getting married, and has a perfect life while you’re busy failing at everything you try? It must have been quite a blow, him being far more successful than you, again.” I couldn’t believe the things flying from my mouth. It was out of my control.

“You stupid little bitch. Everything was going according to plan until you showed up. They got lucky with that secret surprise gig, then Jack was going to screw up the Kuedler Hall show because of all of those extra interviews, and tonight’s show was going to be empty. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you’re ruining everything.”

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