It’s just one thing after another. Can I not catch a break for one day?
I scan the room for Rob, who’s nowhere to be seen. I automatically reach for my watch.
“Don’t worry,” Lucy says, placing her hand on top of mine and loosening my grip on the time piece. “Security is already on it to ensure she doesn’t get into the building or backstage.”
Lucy is somehow reading my mind.
I don’t need that woman near me again, causing yet another scandal.
“There you are!” The sound of my mom’s voice makes me jump out of my skin.
My face gets hotter with every tottering step she takes toward me. It’s like she’s cleaned out the merchandise store.She’s wearing a black hoodie with my logo emblazoned on it, and has tucked her brown hair under a baseball cap—also adorned with my logo. She’s carrying so much merch in her hands that she’s barely able to wave hi to the various label people as she passes them.
I let out a deep sigh.
It’s like she goes from one extreme to the other.
She hides things at home from Harrison so as not to make him feel bad about my success, but then she overcompensates when she’s out on the road and he’s not around.
“You look exhausted.” My mom dumps the various bits in her arms down on the bar before pulling me in and squeezing the life out of me. Erica and Lucy take their cue to leave me, after saying a quick hi.
“Thanks Mom.” I shake myself free from her grip.
She hasn’t been here for five seconds and she’s already smothering me and criticizing me in the same breath. She’d be a perfect case study for helicopter parenting.
“Give him a break, Carla.” My dad shakes his head as he steps in and gives me a brief squeeze. I leave a slight makeup stain on the fabric of his blue shirt as I pull back.
“Bulking out, I see.” He reaches into the bowl of candy behind me.
I force a smile, not having the energy to push back on his criticism.
“What’s this?” My mom leans toward the bar, trying to pick the plaque up before she realizes its weight. She lifts herself up on her toes to see it instead.
“The label gave it to me for the album. You can have it for your house if you want?”
As great as plaques are, I’m running out of space on the walls of my office and bathrooms back home.
“Would it not be better at your place? We have to be mindfulof your brother.” She lowers herself back down and rests her hand on my forearm.
Ugh.
They’re always protecting him. Wrapping him in cotton wool.
Even after he sold me out, they stuck up for him.
And now I have to play down my success so he doesn’t feel emasculated.
What about me? Can’t they be proud of my success in front of him?
Or does it always have to be done away from him?
“Right. Right.” I shake my head as I pick out some of the fizzy cola bottle candies and shove them into my mouth.
“Are you feeling better?” My mom puts the back of her hand to my forehead, feeling for heat.
“I’m getting there,” I manage to say between chews.
I still feel exhausted, but knowing that I only have the show today and nothing tomorrow is helping. Well, that plus three vitamin IV drips in three days.
