Jesse leans back in his chair and then shakes his head like he wants to say something but doesn’t have the words.
Ever runs his hands through his hair and then clasps them at the base of his skull, dropping his chin. “I didn’t know any of that until after the fact. My manager was the one who dealt with it all, and we weren’t on the best terms back then. I wanted to replace him, but I didn’t have the time or the energy, so I avoided him as much as I could. I was so busy with the tour and just trying to keep my own head above water. They pushed me to my breaking point.” He leans back and rubs at tired eyes. “I feel like I failed her. Like maybe I could’ve done something to demand she got help or asked for leniency. I don’t know, I made a lot of mistakes back then. Trusted the wrong people. They were heartless men who ignored that music is about naked human connection because they only saw it as a vehicle to drive revenue. It’s all about the money. We’re all pawns…expendable…me…Rowan. I think that’s why this ongoing thing with the label is bothering me so much. I just want to get out of their shadow because it’s suffocating, but I can’t.”
I reach my hand out, and he takes it. “It wasn’t your fault,” I whisper.
He nods, but I think it’s more to appease than to agree. “Logically, I know that’s probably true. Unfortunately, I’m not always logical.”
Everyone is drunk, except Benji. Even Mabel is tipsy.
“Fuck those guys, Ev. Everyone you trusted to look out for you failed you. Fuck. Them.” I’ve lost track of how many times Jesse has said this, but I agree with him every time.
I shift on the sofa and put my socked feet in Ever’s lap, and he immediately starts tracing designs on my calves with his fingertips. “Okay, to recap, we hate everyone you’ve ever worked with,” I say.
Everyone nods.
“Fuck those guys.” This time it’s Mabel, not Jesse.
“Except the session musicians and crew I toured with because they were great, yeah, the rest were soulless vultures.”
I continue, “Your contract with the label is up, but they’re still harassing you. You fired your management team. And you’re not working with a PR firm.”
“Yeah. I severed ties with everyone on the final day of the tour,” Ever verifies.
“Where does that leave Treachery’s Riot?” I ask.
“Rolling Stoneis going to announce the breakup in a cover story. I’ve lost track of time. What’s today’s date?”
“Excuse me, did you just say you’re going to be on the cover ofRolling Stone?” Lola’s eyes are bulging.
He nods.
“Today is the thirteenth,” I say.
He laughs, but it’s humorless. “It’s supposed to release today, so they’ll be that fallout to deal with too. Fuck, this just keeps getting better,” he mutters, not out of anger but exhaustion.
Bending my knees, I scoot forward and lean back so my head rests on the armrest. When I look at him, he looks so vulnerable. I want to shut out the world to make sure it never hurts him again. “Is that what you want? To be done with that chapter?”
“It’s not about what I want; it’s about what I need. It’s about survival. It was toxic. I couldn’t live in that world with those people anymore.” It’s so sincere, it hurts.
“Ever, sweetie, it sounds like mistakes were made, but you learned important lessons,” Mabel says, and he nods. “What if you took some time to rest and regroup, and then you reinvented yourself on your terms and righted all the wrongs?”
“I don’t know,” Ever answers, honestly. “I mean, it sounds great in theory. Contractually, I can’t release any music until next January anyway, but?—”
“That’s why you insisted I was the only one to sign the contract with Ben and Hannah for the tour and documentary, and you wouldn’t add your name to the Thicker Than Water bank account,” Jesse says, like he’s just solved a puzzle.
“Yeah, I can’t break the contract. I set up a single-member LLC for Thicker Than Water in your name too. It protects you and your livelihood and income.”
“I thought that was weird, but I just thought you were trying to make things less complicated since it was a temporary thing. Shit, you were playing the long game in case it turned into something, and the label came after you. You were insulating me. You should’ve told me, Ev, and not carried this alone,” Jesse says, and the older sibling in me relates so much to wanting to protect.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I hoped it wouldn’t escalate,” Ever says.
Mabel picks up her earlier thread. “Here’s another way to look at it, Ever. Knowing what you know now, if you had it to do all over again, what’s the first thing you would do differently?”
“I wouldn’t have done it alone. I would’ve told Jess, Mom, and Big Dave everything from the beginning.”
She nods emphatically. “Good boy. Because no one should do life alone.”
“I didn’t want to burden them,” he whispers.
