It’s definitely one way to make memories.
We head to New York on Monday. The city is alive as ever, even as the cold weather sets in, crisp winds biting at every spot of exposed flesh.
Having Luc here with us while we record is almost just as heady as having him watch me on stage. He sits in the corner of the studio, quiet and watchful as always, while we lay down some of the tracks we’ve been tinkering with lately. I feel his eyes on me like a physical thing, it sends little zings of awareness over my skin all day. Before I know it, I’m scratching down lines,humming out a melody that’s coming together like a puzzle in my head.
“What’s that?” Naz asks.
I sing a little for him, a broken fiber of an idea, and it builds from there. Ari fills in some of my missing lyric fragments to build a solid hook, Will tinkering with the tune until it fits, then Naz gives it a heartbeat.
Keep looking at me like that,
I know what’s burning behind those eyes.
Keep watching me like you do,
You make me feel alive.
It’s raw and messy, but I think we all know right away that this is our next big hit.
When we leave the studio hours later, we’re all buzzing. We laid down a completed track for the tentatively titledEyes On Meand sent it off with Blake to test it out with the higher ups. I let it be known that I won’t be taking no for an answer, although I don’t think it’s likely the song would be given anything but a fast track to our next single.
We’re not the only ones buzzing. The crowd outside is thicker than usual, cameras flashing before the doors swing open. Security clears a path for us, but this crowd is aggressive, and more than once I’m jostled on my way to the car. It feels louder than usual, the bulbs brighter, the shouted questions more intrusive.
I give Cory a panicked look.Where is he?
Luc had left with him to go get the car while we finished up with Blake, discussing plans for tomorrow. If anyone in the crowd had seen him, they’d surely be throwing questions out about him and not just my reaction to the latest Twatpost from the shit-stirring poor excuse of a man we currently have leading the country. Doesn’t he have anything better to do?
Cory’s hand squeezes my shoulder reassuringly, and I duck into the car. Naz, Will, and Ari file in after me. Blake rides with the rest of the security team in the car behind us. Tad is sitting in the back seat. The door shuts behind us, muffling most of the din. Before Cory can pull away from the curb, they start hitting the windows and roof of the car. He lays on the horn and revs the engine, a clear threat to get the fuck out of the way, which they do when they realize they can’t see much through the dark tint of the windows, even with their faces pressed up against the glass.
“Where is he, Cory?” I bark, my agitation ramping up.
My knee bounces uncontrollably, my nails dig into my palms, and I nearly rip my lip ring out. I do pull some hairs out, aggressively pushing my hair back from my forehead. The space in the car shrinks, air too thick and heavy to breathe. It’s too hot. My skin feels stretched too tight, and my eyes are dry. My heart is beating so fast I cough and gag.
“It’s alright, man. Breathe,” Naz says, placing one hand firmly on my chest and one on my back like he can hold me together.
“Where. Is. He?” I grit out.
“All clear,” Cory yells back.
There’s a sharp intake of breath, and Luc pops up in the very back row, next to Tad. My stomach flips, and I fold myself in half, burying my face in my hands.
“I’m here, baby, I’m here.”
Seamlessly, Luc maneuvers himself into the seat next to me, while the others shuffle down, Ari taking the seat Luc just abandoned. He pulls me into his arms, and I can feel him trembling almost as hard as I am.
“Fucking fuck!” I yell, muffling my frustration in his chest.
Cory’s phone rings over the speakers, and he clicks to answer. “Mr. Holland, you’re on speaker.”
“Good. Is everyone alright? I’m assuming Mr. Martín was stowed away somewhere safe?”
“Yes, sir,” Cory answers. Luc chimes in and says he’s fine, but I think it’s more for my sake than Blake’s.
“This is getting out of hand,” Naz says.
“You’re threatening the imbalance that certain government officials are trying very hard to cultivate. You’re a big enough name to pull attention away from the circus and direct it towards the real problems. They’re going to do whatever they can to discredit you.”
“You think they’re purposefully trying to provoke us?” Will asks.
