The Rocker's Muse

“Just trying to figure out if I believe you.”

“I’m not into her like that,” I lied. “I just went over there for a breather and to say hello. I talked to other people on the bus, too.” For a mere two seconds.

He squinted. “Still don’t know if I buy it.”

I pulled on the scrunchie and snapped the elastic against my wrist. “Don’t you miss just hanging out with normal people who aren’t part of this world? People who don’t have any ulterior motives? Who don’t want something from you?”

“Isn’t she technically part of the tour?” he countered.

“Yeah, but she’s far from part of the music scene and couldn’t care less about all that. She didn’t even know who I was the day I met her, when she came to interview in the desert while we were recording. Initially, that’s what I liked about her. We weren’t going to find anyone else to work on the tour who genuinely didn’t have a clue about us. And I’ve gotten to know her a little here and there since then.” I shook my head. “But there’s nothing going on. She’s way too young for me anyway.”

Well, that last part was true.

Ronan arched a brow. “Never stopped you before.”

“Hooking up is different than getting involved with someone.”

“Now you’re getting involved with her?”

He was pissing me off. “No. But she’s not the kind of girl you mess around with. You know? She’s been through a lot…” I had to stop myself. I didn’t want to talk about Emily’s business. Even that bit I’d divulged was too much. He’d ask more questions if I went any further. Ronan was the nosiest person I’d ever met and had the biggest mouth, too. “Why am I explaining myself to you? You need to mind your freaking business about where I go and what I do.”

He smacked me on the shoulder. “You are my business. Always will be. I tell you all of my shit—unsolicited—and you give me nothing in return. It’s like you think I’m gonna judge you when I’m the least judgmental person.”

Ronan had a point. He might’ve been nosy, but he didn’t have a judgmental bone in his body. My trepidation about opening up to him, particularly regarding my vocal issues, had everything to do with my own shame.

“I’m sorry. Things have just been…tough lately.” I hung my head.

“Your voice, you mean?”

Fuck. I lifted my gaze. “You noticed?”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. I obviously haven’t said anything to you. But I noticed. Atticus has too.”

My shoulders hunched in defeat. The fact that they knew and didn’t mention it made me feel even worse, like they’d been whispering behind my back. Now I’d be fucking paranoid.

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything to me?”

“Because what good would that do? We’re on tour. We can’t stop this train. Pointing it out would make you self-conscious. That would probably make whatever is going on worse. That which you focus on only grows bigger.”

“Aren’t you curious as to what’s causing it?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t ask because I feel like that should come voluntarily from you. Like I said, focusing on it will only make it worse. More real. Didn’t want to make an issue of it.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “They still love you, man. Everyone loves you.” He paused. “That said, what the hell is going on?”

“I have polyps on my vocal cords. That’s why my voice is off. Doctor says the only way around it is surgery. But that could risk permanent damage.”

“Fuck.” The expression on his face freaked me out a little. “And you’ve had to keep this from us? Why didn’t you feel like you could tell us?”

“I guess I didn’t want anyone freaking out about it like you seem to be now. But to your point, the less I dwell on it, the more I hope it fades into the background.” Threading the scrunchie around my fingers, I said, “Do you think anyone else has noticed?”

“Like the fans, you mean?”

I held my breath. “Yeah…”

“I haven’t heard any rumblings, and I’m normally pretty in tune to the gossip. I’ve been hitting all the music threads online. I’ll let you know if I come across anything. It’s not so obvious. I notice it because I play with you all the time.”

I’d bet it was more obvious than he seemed to think, especially if Emily, who was fairly new to our music, had noticed it.

“Well, if it gets any worse, it will be obvious,” I said.