when I answered. “I’m fine,” I choked out. I blinked a few times, feeling as if the word had come out too aggressive, too cold, too much like myself and not enough like Alex. What would Alex do? He would’ve been personable. He would’ve greeted the audience as well when he walked onto the stage, waving toward everyone. Asking how they’d all been.
I didn’t do that.
I didn’t greet the audience.
Fucking idiot! You should’ve greeted the audience. Now they are all thinking that you’re an asshole and you don’t know how to properly engage, which makes what Cam said seem more true, and now you’re sweating under the stage lights like an idiot and oh shit—
Brad was staring at me. As if he was waiting for a reply.
Did he ask me something?
He must’ve asked me something.
What did he ask me?
I blinked a few times and shifted in my chair. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”
“I said I’m sorry for your loss. It must’ve been a hard one for you to handle.”
Brad wasn’t a big asshole. That was exactly why Tyler set it up for me to go on his late-night show, which was filmed during the daytime. The sun was still out, the birds were still chirping, and fuck. Reply, idiot!
I cleared my throat. “It hasn’t been the easiest year.”
“Understandable. But, I’ve been informed that you’ve been in the studio. Maybe working on some solo pieces?”
“Yes. Slowly but surely it’s coming together.”
“Is it hard creating music without your brother?”
Is it hard creating music without the one person who talked me into doing music in the first place? Is it hard learning how to be a solo artist when you’ve always been part of a duo? Is it hard not hearing Alex’s vocals and guitar on the songs when they come to a finish?
No, Brad. It’s insanely easy.
Don’t say that, Oliver. You’ll sound like a dick.
Damn, it was hot in here. Was there no air-conditioning? I bet Tyler was sweating buckets in the audience. Cursing under his breath about how I was bombing the interview.
The interview.
Answer Brad!
“Uh, yeah. It’s difficult.”
“It’s probably even tougher with the allegations that have come out about you and your relationship with Cam.”
Brad seemed so calm as he spoke. Almost as if he wasn’t speaking about how some lunatic was out to ruin my life after my life had already been extremely damaged from losing Alex.
I don’t want to be here.
I shifted in my chair. I felt everyone staring at me, but I couldn’t figure out what to say. I didn’t know how to speak up for myself. I didn’t know how to sit there and tell my truth to combat Cam’s lies.
“I, uh, I’m,” I started, but I began to get choked up. I grimaced and then scolded myself for grimacing because that would be picked up on camera. “I’m sorry, Brad. Can we take a break?”
Brad looked at the cameras, then to the producers off in the wings of the stage, who were furiously shaking their heads. But before Brad could reply, I was walking off set toward my dressing room. I yanked at the collar of my shirt, trying to take in deep breaths.
I swung the dressing room door open and cussed at the top of my lungs the moment the door shut behind me. “Fuck!”
“Fuck!” was echoed behind me as Tyler walked into the room. His face couldn’t have been redder if he tried. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed off, scared, or felt bad for me. Maybe a little of all three.
He paced for a minute before he stood still and took in a deep inhale. Then he looked to me. “Okay. It’s okay. Shit,” he muttered before taking a few more deep breaths. “Okay. I’m going to go talk to the producers, apologize, and let them know we’ll have to reschedule.”
“This is going to make me look worse,” I muttered in return, sitting down and rubbing my hands against my face.
Tyler didn’t respond, because he knew it was true.
He cleared his throat and patted me on the back. “Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll get it figured out. Not a big deal.”
Translation: a big fucking deal.
I bet the moment this news got out, Cam would be smirking with pride, knowing she’d kicked a dog that was already down.
There was a knock at the door, and Tyler called out, “Yeah, give us a minute!”