“What happened with you two?”Ellery had ordered Swedish pancakes, lacy confections with a center of whipped cream and lingonberry jam.Dante wondered briefly what it would have been like to have eaten those with her in Sweden.There was a fantastic place in Malmö—
“We wanted different things,” Casper replied, interrupting Dante’s reverie.
He should get his head in the game.Casper clearly did.He rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down to avoid dipping the cuffs in syrup and stabbed at his vegan sausage with gusto.
Ellery nudged his leg under the table, and a thrill ran up his leg from the slight touch.“Did you get a new tattoo?”
Dante’s gaze flicked to the image on his wrist, then to Ellery.He hadn’t meant to show his parents yet.His mom had never loved the idea of tattoos.He had been so distracted by Casper and her and his parents—
His mom’s fork clattered on her plate.“You got a tattoo?Oh, Dante, no.Those follow you forever.”
“Leave him alone, Mom.Tattoos are a rock star move.”Casper punctuated his statement with a crisp bite of bacon.“He’s earned it by being awesome.”
Grimacing at the unwanted approval, Dante rubbed the words along his wrist—always me—folded into the outline of a dove.“Sorry, Mom.The whole band got them, and I really wanted one.”She didn’t need to know that Jill’s brand-new tat was a full-color female pirate leering across her right shoulder blade.Thankfully, he had not imbibed a gallon of vodka like she had before their visit to the tattoo parlor.
“Show me.”Sighing, his mom took his wrist and turned it over, her pretty features softening.She traced the dove with one soft fingertip.“Oh, honey, that’s beautiful.”
“It’s cool.”He tugged the sleeves of his shirt back down over his wrists.Way too much attention on way too little sleep.“What about you, Ellery?What’s new with you?”
She brightened, her eyes glowing in the cozy pancake parlor lights.“I think the Vendetta’s going to record a demo.Selene knows a producer who offered us his studio for a fraction of the usual cost.”
Dante cut into his pancakes while his mom beamed.
“That’s amazing!Which of your songs are you going to record?”
She dimmed a bit.“I don’t know.I thought maybe we would do one of our covers.Maybe Bon Jovi.”
“Why don’t you want to record your own songs?”She had played them for him over the phone, and he’d saved the recordings in a special folder on his computer.Of all the things he wanted to know about her, he desperately longed to know why she didn’t think her own music was good enough.Late at night, after Jill had fallen asleep, he had lain awake, wondering.Deep inside, did Ellery do the same thing he did?Did they both try to convince themselves they were enough as they were?
His mother placed her coffee cup in the saucer with a porcelain clink.“Ellery, Dante sent us one or two of your songs.They’re wonderful.I’d love to hear more.”
She flushed, making her look even prettier.Dante twitched in his seat.“Thank you so much, Mrs.Baker.I don’t know.I guess it’s difficult to put so much of myself out into the world.”
His mom rubbed his shoulders, the same way she had when he was ten and come home from school distraught.This was new too.For the first six months after he’d come out, she barely touched him.Maybe she had been going to therapy or the PFLAG meetings he’d mentioned.“I completely understand that.Dante’s father and I may not be creative types like you, but we know perfectly well that it’s never easy showing your true self.”
Dante found Ellery’s gaze, and the rest of the world faded, pancake syrup and all.There weren’t many people in the world who knew him, really knew him.He’d always been so careful, so good at passing.But he wanted her to know.Because if she knew and she still liked him, maybe that meant Dante could finally be happy.Not just content, but truly happy.
CHAPTER8
Eighteen Months Ago—Ellery
Ellery satin the makeup chair.The lights around the vanity were at full wattage, so bright it was impossible to see anything.Shouldn’t she be able to feel their heat?Shouldn’t the lights at least warm her?
“You look gorgeous,” Maria, the makeup artist, said.The fine bristles of the brush scraped her skin like sandpaper, but Ellery didn’t move.Couldn’t move.
Logan Groff, her agent, stood beside Maria, his expression displeased.Not that that was unusual for Logan.“Let’s do more eyeliner.And Elvie, we really need to dye your hair.I think blond shows up better on stage.”
She didn’t nod.She would go along with whatever they said.She was their doll, their puppet.
And she didn’t care enough to change that.She could be Elvie, if Selene and Lorraine had okayed it.The other her was gone.Lost.No, not lost, trampled in an avalanche of grief and stampeding fame.
Logan’s phone rang loudly, and he tapped her shoulder twice, the touch percussive.“Be right back,” he mouthed as he moved away.
Ellery stared at her reflection, not recognizing the girl in the mirror.Her hair was a long tumble of russet curls, her eyes tinted green with contacts, her mouth stretched in a thin line.At least her eyes were dry.She had cried away all her tears a long time ago.
Maria stood before her and put her hands on her shoulders.“Are you all right?You know, you don’t have to go blond if you like the red.And maybe the color contacts aren’t for you.”
She wished she could feel the warmth of the woman’s hands.But she hadn’t felt warmth in a very long time.She knew the role she had to play if she was going to be allowed to make the music that was the only thing reminding her she was alive.The only way she had found to process her grief.“I’m fine.Thank you.Everything is fine.”
