and that’s how we found out. Our parents’ marriage has always been a sham. My mom is gay and my dad married her because he wanted to help her keep her reputation and trust fund. They were best friends. So he has casual affairs, and so does she, but they won’t ever divorce and live the way they want to.”
Brandon, Simon, and I are stunned silent.
Lana smiles but it looks strained. “And yet, we are the envy of everyone. If only they knew.”
Simon blurts, “I never envied you. Either of you. Lana, your family’s insane and your friends are shit. And the world lies about you constantly. Since I met you, you’ve basically proven everything I knew about you to be a lie.”
Her smile turns sincere. “My friends aren’t shit. Not anymore. Now I have the best friends a girl could want. The best bandmates.”
Simon blushes and Brandon nods, looking down.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry. We won’t out you for being amazing. We’ll let them keep thinking you are Miss Lana, the diva.”
She turns and presses her lips into mine. “Nothing you say could ever change my image. I’ll always be Lana Webber.” There is some hint of bitterness but she beams, like she’s past it.
We get to the massive restaurant and file in as more paparazzi take our pictures and shout obscene things at us. My hands are balled into fists and my jaw is tight, but she just waves and smiles past it all, like she is above it. She leans in and laughs like I’ve said something so funny. “You can’t kill them all. Just let it roll off your back. Their words can’t hurt us.”
The adoration in her eyes reminds me none of it matters. What matters is us and the music, and no one can touch those things.
We enter the party as a band. Leo is waiting for us there with his arms out, eating it all up. He looks tired but he is a showman. As much as I have never liked the guy, he’s earned my respect in a few ways. Hard work is one of them. He’s exhausted, and yet he’s here. He kisses Lana on the cheek and escorts us into the party.
People are smiling and gushing, no longer shooting hateful or judgmental looks at Lana and us. She has proven she has every right to be here and not because it’s her dad’s show.
Her dad comes up, disapproving of her outfit with the same look I think I had when I saw it, but hugs and kisses her anyway. He shakes their hands but when he comes to me, he leads me off, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and steering me to the bar. He leans on it and nods. “I don’t know how to thank you. I don’t know what I expected when I gave you that violin. I had an idea of how it could work, but you have exceeded my expectations by far.”
I shake my head. “I swear, I didn’t do much. The girl has a natural talent, just like you said she did.”
His eyes that match hers in color, narrow. “You know I can’t give you my blessing to date her, right? She lied to me and said she and you weren’t anything. She wouldn’t have done that if she thought it was a good idea to date you.”
She said that?
My stomach sinks. “She’s an adult. She can choose who she wants in her life.” I can’t believe I’m saying it to him, but I won’t lose her, not after the spring we’ve had.
He shakes his head. “She’s not an adult, and you need to realize that she isn’t fully better. She isn’t any different than she was six months ago. I know she has you fooled. She did me to. But I talked to her therapist and she hasn’t been to see him at all. She isn’t taking the healing seriously. She’s taking the music seriously. She’s taking you seriously. You and me both didn’t see the truth, but he feels it’s one addiction gone and a new one started up. She’ll get addicted to the spotlight and the performance and to you, because you are the real thing. She has an addictive personality. I spoke to Ron, her therapist, today after the show. He feels that she is finding other things to be addicted to, instead of curing her addiction problems and filling the void her mother’s death left.