Exits, stage left.
The door clicks shut. Silence falls.
Liam collapses into the chair across from Connor. Padraig rubs his temples. Connor leans in, ready to talk shop.
I retreat, giving them space. My job’s done in here. I most certainly am not family.
Outside the dressing room, I lean against the wall, head tipped back, trying to quell my thoughts. The inevitable fallout with Felicity. Me leaving eventually.
“Manager, huh?” I whisper to no one.
I’m not naive. Unless something changes, we have an end date. One I try not to think about. I know I’m not merely their manager. I’m the man he wakes up beside everymorning. I know how he likes his coffee and how his breath stutters before he comes.
Still. The scene in the dressing room twists something deep in my gut. What if I’m not with them one day?
I don’t get long to dwell. Felicity storms over, heels clacking like gunfire. I instinctively step back, but she sees me.
Of course she does.
“Oh.” Her voice is syrupy with venom. “The shadow emerges.”
I don’t rise to it. “Rough night?”
“Don’t start with me.” She stalks past, then doubles back. “Actually, no. Let’s do this.”
I blink. “Do what, exactly?”
“This.” She throws her arms wide. “This little silent war everyone’s pretending isn’t happening. You think you’re so fucking clever, managing the band, playing nice with the twins. I see through you. You’re not special.”
I meet her gaze. “I’m here to keep the band on track. Nothing more.”
She laughs, bitter and broken. “Oh please. You’re in love with Liam. You don’t think I hear you guys fucking every goddamn night?”
I stay silent.
Her voice drops. “You don’t even realize you’re another notch on his belt.”
My spine straightens. I’m aware of Liam’s fuck-boy past, but hearing it from her point of view is raw. Real.
“How many times do you think he fucked me? Twice? Three times?” She leans in, breath hot. “Try nine.”
My stomach turns.
“Every time he was bored. Or lonely. Or drunk on the high of the crowd.” She smirks. “You think you’re different? Nah. You’re the clean-up crew. A fuck-buddy until he decides to move on again.”
I exhale in defeat. “You’re angry. I get it. Whatever’s happenin’ between Liam and me isn’t your business.”
“Oh, it is,” she snaps. “I’ve been pushed aside. Replaced.”
“You’re not being replaced. You’re choosing not to be part of the team.” My tone is intentionally callous. “You’re talented, Felicity. But you treat everyone like they’re beneath you.”
For a split second, I see something underneath the bravado. Pain.
Then she shoves it down.
“You’ll see,” she says softly. “He doesn’t stay. He never stays.”
She walks away.
