“Please, Toni,” he says in a hoarse whisper. “Tell me you get it. Give me one of your pep talks or tell me everything is going to be fabulous.” One hand swipes at his eyes, and his shoulders slump with the weight of past regrets. “Please, tell me you understand why I have to end it.”
If he were anyone else, the words would already be out of my mouth. Pep talks are my specialty, after all. They’re the reason half my friends bother spending time with me. I listen to them rant about whatever minor life crisis happens to be casting a shadow over their Saturday night drinks. Then, I pump them up with a pep talk, point them in the direction they obviously want to go, and let them have at it.
Ned isn’t anyone, though, and this isn’t some minor complication in an otherwise ordinary day. We’re talking about his life’s work here. His childhood dream. His passion and his gift. Quitting the band will have real and lasting consequences on his life. I can’t pep talk this away.
I want to support him, but I also want to be honest. It’s what people do in real relationships, right? They share their honest opinions on the things that matter.
This matters. He matters. I can’t lie to him.
“This is ultimately your decision, and I will support whatever you decide to do.” The words are lame, but my voice is trembling, and I need to work my way up to upsetting him. “However…” I stop to clear my throat, “the truth is…”
He stares at me. I stare back.
“I think you’re making a terrible mistake.”
TWENTY-FIVE
______
NED
Fury unleashes in my veins as I glare at the man who knows exactly how bad things got for me last time I tried to build a career in music—and still isn’t on my side. “You think protecting myself is a mistake?”
“Protecting yourself from what, exactly?” Toni asks. “You’re a musician, Ned. It’s what you were born to do. You can’t hide from it forever.”
Everything goes wide. My eyes, my mouth, everything. Because he’s so full of crap right now I can’t possibly contain the profoundness of my shock. “You’ve got an entire room wallpapered with art that says that’s bullshit.” I jab a finger at the door to his office. The one he still locks whenever he’s not using it. “How dare you lecture me on hiding. You’ve spent half your life cringing behind a fake smile and pushing away anyone who tries to get close to you.”
Toni bites down on his bottom lip as he nods with short, jerky movements. “You’re right. I push people away, so they won’t know me well enough to dislike me, and I let them down, so they won’t expect too much from me. I’m trying to change, though—for you.” He takes a step closer. Then another, until we’re close enough we could touch, but only if we both reached out. I have no intention of reaching out to him.
“I want to be the man you deserve, Ned,” he says, standing straighter. “The man you would give your whole self to. Because I want this, I want us. Which means being honest with you. No faking. No holding back.”
I take a step this time, so I can lower my face closer to his. “Go on, then.” I grit the words between clenched teeth, daring him to take me apart. “Be honest with me.”
“Fine.” The word is short, clipped. He returns to the couch, sitting ramrod straight with his back against the cushioned arm and his legs crossed in front of him. With a nod of his head, he gestures to the empty spot at the other end. “Sit.”
Eyeing him warily, I cross the room and sit facing him.
“You want honesty?” he begins in the same razor-sharp tone. “I’ll give you that and a pep talk all in one. You have a real chance here, Ned, to do all the things you dreamed of as a kid. To make a living with your music and fulfill your potential as an artist. The only person standing in your way is you.” There’s a short pause—for dramatic effect, no doubt. “So, get the fuck over yourself, and go be a rock star already.”
I blink, taken aback by the abrupt command. “You think it’s that simple?”
“It can be,” he insists. “Fifth Circle’s popularity is growing, despite how hard you’re fighting against it. Imagine what you could accomplish if you stopped fighting and went with it.”
I can’t breathe. My heart is racing and beads of sweat pop out on my forehead. “I can’t. It’s too dangerous for me.”
“Why? Because of the permanent hard-on you’d have for your fans?” His gaze trails down over me. “Trust me, I’ll take care of that.”
“It’s not that,” I snap. “The guys are better off finding someone else. They’ll only ever get halfway with me as their front man. I’ll get impatient. I’ll look for quick fixes that won’t pan out. Then what? I have no clue what I’ll be tempted to do.” I shake my head. I can’t risk it. “There are thousands of musicians out there with my skill set. Any one of them could take my place.” The words belong to Zac, but they pour out of my mouth as though they’re mine. I hate the taste of them on my tongue, but it’s too late to take them back.
“That’s ridiculous,” Toni snaps. “I’ve never seen anyone perform the way you do. Even if it’s true, you can’t possibly know what you can accomplish unless you try.”
My jaw clenches harder. “I did try. I failed.”
“Try again, try better.”
“It won’t work,” I yell.
“Who says?” he demands.
