The Rocker's Muse

“Never.”

“Well, then I’d say you’re due. I think you need to tell Doug the truth about everything. Tell him you need a day to rest your voice.”

“I don’t know.” After a long pause, he said, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to.”

“Hang up with me, and go talk to him about it now,” I insisted.

“I’m not ready to get off the phone with you yet.”

“Go tell him you need a night off, then call me back. I’ll be here.”

“Alright. Gonna do it.” He sighed. “Thank you, Emily.”

“Of course.”

Time crawled after we hung up. I worried for him. A single night off was one thing, but what if he needed more? What if people figured out why he’d canceled? The press could be brutal. There was no shame in it, of course, but I knew Tristan well enough to know that having this go public would devastate him. And the fact that I was feeling devastated right now indicated just how much Tristan meant to me. That was scary.

Almost an hour went by. It was nearly one in the morning when my phone finally rang.

I picked up. “Hey, what happened?”

“I did it. I told Doug everything,” Tristan said. “He agrees we should cancel tomorrow so I can rest my voice.” He sighed into the phone. “At least it’s the second show here, and we were able to get one in. That’s not going to satisfy the people who bought tickets for tomorrow night, though.”

“You don’t owe them anything, Tristan.”

“I won’t be able to sleep tonight. I’ll be staring at the ceiling, second-guessing my decision.”

“Have you heard from the guys since you told Doug?”

“They’re still out partying. They’ll find out soon enough. Honestly, I wish I didn’t have to be here when they do.”

I didn’t know what came over me, but it felt like the right thing to say. “Why don’t you come here?”

“To your mother’s house?”

“Yeah. You can rest here tonight and tomorrow, away from everyone. We’ll go back to the bus tomorrow night.”

“I don’t want to intrude on your time with your mom.”

“Are you kidding? She’d die to meet you. She’s asleep now, of course, but we can explain everything in the morning. Or I’ll explain, since you’ll be silent. I mean it. If you come here, you can’t talk. You need to rest your voice.”

“Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.”

“You’re coming?”

“Already putting on my jacket.”

“How are you getting here?”

“I’ll call a car.”

“Under your name?”

“Hell no. I use Stephen’s account when I want to remain incognito. I’ll put my shades on and my hood. I’ll be good.”

After I gave him my address, we hung up, and I wondered if I needed my head checked. Not only would my mother definitely get the wrong idea, I wasn’t even sure what my intentions were. It wasn’t just that I had a massive crush on Tristan. I cared about him a lot. All I wanted was to protect him—not only from the world, but from his own harsh self-judgment.

I waited by the window until I saw the bright lights of a car pulling up in front of the house. The car door slammed shut, and then a dark shadow of a man dressed in black approached the house. With every step he took, my heart beat faster.