ribs. What does it take to be a good guitarist? “She never told me, no.” I forgot—no, I guess I didn't even care about that once I met her. I got caught up in how good she was, in all of her.
“You told me to turn away anyone who answered 'talent' and to let in everyone who said 'patience, hard work, or determination.' Right?”
Those were the answers I'd decided that came closest to defining the difference between those who would make it big, and those who would not. "Right," I finally said.
Brenda shrugged so hard that her bikini strings tickled the back of her neck. “Lola didn't say any of those things. Her answer was... honesty.”
“Honesty?” How the hell does honesty make any sense—oh. Oh, fuck. So quickly that it left me reeling, I actually understood Lola. Where her talent came from, why I was constantly drawn to her open nature, her genuine reactions.
Honesty.
I wanted to laugh; the answer was so simple. I grasped why she was upset with me earlier, too. This puzzle piece gave me clarity to see the full picture. She spilled her guts to me about her ugly past. Then, I refused to do the same.
My chuckle was throaty, cynical. “I'm a real dumbass, aren't I?”
“Yeah.” Brenda wore a tiny smile. “I'll say you are.” Water ran down my muscles as I stood up. Blinking, she craned her neck. “Hey! Where are you going?”
I shook droplets from my hair. I knew when I turned around that she would see my scar, but I no longer gave a shit. Honesty. “I need you to book a private flight for me.”
“Excuse me? When—and to where?”
I caught my reflection in the side of the tall, aluminum heater that made the patio comfortable. In the light of the evening, my eyes were darker than pitch. “Right now. I have someone I need to visit.”
“Drezden, what the hell are you saying?”
My blood was electric; everything in me was buzzing with realization. I finally knew what I had to do to make everything right. “You can book me this flight tonight so that I make it back in time for the final show, or you can accept that I won't be here for it.”
It was a standoff, our eyes locked as she tried to will me to back down.
I said, "Brenda. I need to do this."
Lifting the bottle of champagne, Brenda finished off the contents and gasped for air. The glass rattled when she slammed it into the ice bucket. “I really shouldn't have signed you and your fucking band, Drezden. I'm never going to stop regretting that. Pass me my purse and I'll arrange your stupid as hell flight. Dammit, I was supposed to be relaxing!”
Without missing a beat, I handed Brenda her purse.
- Chapter Twenty-Four -
Lola
I wandered the parking lot for a long time. Telling Brenda I was going to find food hadn't really been the truth. I needed food, yes, but after sitting with Drezden, being forced to avoid talking about his past, I'd lost my appetite.
I want to know what he isn't telling me. Kicking aside a small rock, I looked back at the giant, glossy tour bus. The breeze was light on my face. With very little direction, I dropped down onto the pavement between two cars and just... waited.
I didn't know what I was waiting for.
My mind kept diving back to one thing: Drezden was refusing to tell me the truth. It's just like Sean said, I realized grimly. He won't tell me anything.
Movement, voices, drew my eye. From my hidden spot I watched Brenda and the rest of the band climb out of the bus. They were laughing; all of them but Drezden. His expression was like old concrete.
Even from here, he makes my pulse jump. Hugging my knees, I watched them all climb into a solid black car. The windows were tinted to hiding them from prying eyes. Guess that'll take them to the hotel. With nothing going on between now and the final show, it was nice that Brenda had arranged a hotel for us.
It made me think about that night. About the first time I'd seen Drezden's scar. Shaking my head, I stared after the car until it was guided out of the lot by uniformed security. Seconds later, my phone vibrated, making me squeak. Fumbling it free, I read the message from Drezden:
'Call me if you need anything. I'll be at the Hilton until then.'