“We don’t need backup on the next leg,” Graham had said. “The fans come for you.”
Cass had been in the hallway when Rick walked out of the meeting. Her face had been still, but her eyes had looked tired.
“You could’ve said something,” Rick had told her.
Cass had blinked slowly. “To Graham?”
Rick had snapped, “To me.”
“I did,” she’d said. “You didn’t want to hear it.”
Rick stared at the phone, the old anger coming back like it had never left. Cass had walked away, and now she was back inthe game, getting photographed as if she were important, while Rick’s song sat on old playlists and people talked about him like he was a nostalgia act, like a has-been.
He opened her tagged photos. There were more now. Fan shots. Music people posting from studios and airports, and rehearsals. Cass smiling. Cass working. Cass looking happy. He clicked a link that listed tour crew and band members. It was probably a fan page, but it had names and details and comments from people who paid attention to that sort of thing.
Someone said they’d seen her at rehearsal in Nashville, and someone else mentioned she’d posted from LA the week before.
Rick narrowed his eyes and clicked again. Another site and another mention. He pulled up the tour schedule and stared at the dates.
He didn’t know what he was doing, not really. He only knew that he didn’t like the feeling of being left behind. He didn’t like how Cass had moved on as if he was a chapter she’d closed, while he appeared to have been relegated to yesterday.
Putting the phone down, Rick walked to the living room, then back into the kitchen, and then stopped. The restlessness was familiar now. It wasn’t nerves, though. It was the same itch he’d had all week whenever the story about Graham popped up on the news. The same itch he’d had after the police interview.
He opened a cupboard, took out a glass, poured water, drank half of it, and then put it down again. His hands were steady. That was what made it worse.
He picked his phone up and opened the notes app. His thumb hovered over the blank screen for a second. No, not this phone. His old one he didn’t use now.
Rushing to his bedroom, Rick pulled open a drawer and rummaged through the items inside until he found his old phone. He switched it on, waiting for the screen to light up. Once it did, he opened the notes app and began to type out a list.
Cassidy Lane
Jalen Cross tour
Where is she based?
He stared at the list. It didn’t mean anything on its own. It was just words. But starting it made his breathing ease and his body relax.
He went back to the kitchen and picked up his phone, then clicked on the browser. He clicked through bios and interviews. He checked tagged locations. He read the comments under her posts, then the ones she liked. People put their lives online without thinking. They told you where they were and who they were with, and what they were doing.
They called it connection. Rick called it careless, and now it gave him the information he needed.
A message popped up from Allen.You okay?
Rick stared at it longer than he meant to. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped replying to Allen. He typed back.Yeah. Just busy.
Allen responded fast.Work stuff?
Rick’s mouth tightened. Allen was trying. Allen asked questions and waited for answers, the way he always did. Rick should’ve told him something normal. Gym. Writing. Dinner plans. Anything that didn’t drag this dark edge into the conversation.
Instead, his eyes went back to Cass’s page and quickly replied.Just music stuff.
Allen replied.You want to talk about it?
Rick stared at Allen’s message. For a second, he imagined telling Allen the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough of it. That he’d seen someone from his past who was doing well and it had hit a nerve with him. That it made him feel like he’d been forgotten. He didn’t type that though.Not really. I’m fine.
There was a pause before Allen responded.Okay. I’m here if you want.
Rick stared at that and felt something shift in his chest, and he exhaled softly. Allen didn’t push, and he didn’t make demands. Allen didn’t take or want any attention for being with a former celebrity.
