“Standard dictionary definition.”
“Then no, I’m not all right.”
More silence ensued, but the longer we went without speaking, the more questions I had. And really, if you thought about it, he owed me a little something. Sure, I was his driver for hire, but I was also his savior of sorts. Who knew what would’ve happened to him had I not unlocked my door? Maybe Alan Forrester would have dragged him back to the stage and forced him to perform like a puppet on a string. Or maybe the tourists on Hollywood Boulevard would have drowned him in a sea of drool. As far as I was concerned, he owed me an explanation before I left him in some undisclosed location and never saw him again.
“So, Quinn, I’m assuming you’re a contestant onNext in Line?”
He let his hands fall from his eyes as he turned to squint my way. “How do you know my name?”
Jesus, so suspicious. He acted like I was a stalker when he was the one who’d trackedmedown. “Alan Forrester screamed it from down the street.”
“Oh, right.” He winced as if recalling the scene as vividly as I did. “And, yes, Iwasa contestant onNext in Line.As in, past tense.”
Remembering the exchange between him and Alan, I replied, “That’s too bad. Sounds like you were a really good singer.”
“Great,” he moaned, as if already pegging me as a nuisance. “So you do know who I am, then?”
His douchey response irritated me. The guy was a contestant on a shitty television show. Did he really think the world was clamoring to know him?
“Relax, dude. Not everyone is up to date on theirNext in Linetrivia. I haven’t watched that show since my acne cleared up in seventh grade.”
“Oh, I… it’s just… you said I was a good singer,” Quinn stammered, realizing his mistake too late to save himself. To his credit, he actually looked embarrassed by his narcissistic comment. “I thought…”
I knew what he thought—that I was some groupie girl scrambling to get inside his shiny up-and-comer pants. That was far from reality. Well… okay… maybe not that far. But I wasn’t one to hold grudges, especially with a guy as attractive as this one.
“I get how you were confused. No worries,” I said. “But let’s just assume, for the remainder of your car ride, that everything I know about you was obtained in that three-minute conversation you had with Alan Forrester.”
“Got it.” Quinn tipped his head back on the seat. A long pause ensued, and I wondered if our conversation was over. I wasn’t ready… not yet.
“Hey,” he said, sounding tired. “Sorry if I snapped at you. I’m on edge. I get that way when I ruin my career.”
“I’m sure you didn’t ruin your career,” I replied in a lame attempt at solidarity.
“Oh yeah,” he groaned. “I’m pretty sure I did.”
Our eyes met, and in that moment, I knew he believed it. Whatever had happened was serious enough that a well-known television personality felt compelled to chase him down the street.
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” I probed, knowing I was overstepping my bounds as a complete and total stranger but hoping he wouldn’t notice.
Quinn slid his fingers through his hair, looking pained. “I walked off the stage during my performance… in front of a live audience.”
My eyes bugged from their sockets. Oh wow. Yeah, he was fucked.
“That’s… not so bad.” I forced the encouraging words out of my lying mouth. “Did you walk off because of the video?”
He lifted a brow. “You sure learned a lot about me in three minutes.”
I nodded. “I come from a long line of eavesdroppers.”
“I can see that. And no, not just because of the video, but that was the tipping point, for sure.” Quinn paused, and I worried that he might cut me off after realizing he was having a heart-to-heart conversation with his ride-share driver. But no, he seemed not to discriminate, and the words kept coming. “I never should have auditioned in the first place. I’m a rocker, and the show’s not really known for my type of music. But they made me feel like I belonged, you know?”
Oh yes, I knew. In fact, I’d experienced a very similar situation myself once, wanting to belong so badly I’d allowed myself to be dragged around like an old ratty blanket by people who were cloaked in cashmere. I’d been young and dumb, lured by the promise of fitting into a world that was not my own. And like Quinn, my reckoning had been just as big and flashy. I’d thought once I would never recover, but I did, and now I was thankful for the experience because without it, I probably would have continued down that same path of destruction…just like my father did before me.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he continued. “I should’ve known they’d change the rules. Everyone warned me, but I didn’t listen.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“My family.”
