“Everything.” I snort.
Where do I even start?
Elijah rasps quietly, “I’m scared too.” He taps his fingers on my knee to a beat I don’t know. “Every time we leave for a tour, it doesn’t feel easier … I thought I would become immune to the stress as I got older, but it’s only gotten stronger.”
The distance between us is highlighted. I wish I could say I knew he was struggling, but I didn’t, and that makes me feel terrible.
“How do you pull through?” I blurt out, embarrassed to admit I’m terrified.
Shyly looking down at his hand, he swallows tightly. “Xanax.”
Sadness settles in the middle of my heart and spreads. “Elijah …”
“I don’t want your pity.” He shakes his head, leaning forward and cupping my cheek as he stares at me. “This life is never easy foranyone. You’re not alone in your worries. I’d never put you in a position that I knew you couldn’t handle. Will it be an adjustment? Yes, of course. But will it also be a blessing?” He shrugs. “Only time will tell.”
Do I really have any choice? Financial freedom for my foreseeable future is being presented to me on a silver platter.
It’s only eight months on the road. I can do this.
“I know this is an important decision, but we leave in a month, so we need to know?—”
“I’m in,” I interrupt before I change my mind.
The smile that lights up his entire face is practically blinding.
FIFTEEN
ELIJAH
“Oh my goodness, I’m going to lose my mind!” Amelia has the biggest smile on her face as she squeals, running over to where I stand in the dance studio with a mic in my hand. “Have you heard the news?”
“No. Why don’t you tell me?” I laugh, watching her jump up and down in happiness.
“‘Four Stages’ is number one in North AmericaandEurope!”
Fist-bumping the air, my sister jumps into my arms, and we spin like two little kids.
We just released our new single last night, “Four Stages.”This track is definitely one of the rawest on the record. We titled it the same as our album because it reflects it all as a whole.
“Fuck yes.”
“How much money do you think I could make if I sold this video of them spinning to the tabloids?”
That stops us both in our tracks. Caught red-handed, Trinity sits cross-legged against the wall of mirrors. Lowering her phone, she peeks a glance at Leonidas as he hovers beside her.
My brother winces. “Ten dollars at most,” he whispers like we can’t hear him.
Our choreographer, Jack, winks at us. “You mean, ten million.”
“Leave it to Jack to always pick sides.” Trinity sighs.
Leonidas teases, “Come to the better side … the darker side.”
“I’m gonna stay right here, but you’ve gotta get your butt here and start from the top. I don’t want to get fired, and you need to learn the choreo for the show.” Sassily placing a hand on his popped hip, he snaps with his other.
A miracle happens; Leonidas listens.
“I fucking hate this,” he murmurs under his breath.
