The Tour (27 page)

“But do I have to wait in here? Can I go wait on the bus?” He thinks for a second and nods, and Mayra starts walking with me toward the exit. I pass a room and catch a glimpse of Gypsy Dress holding an icepack up to her nose.

I stop, standing in the door. I feel like I can’t move. Even with the icepack on her nose, I can see the bruising. She glares at me through bruised eyes. When she drops the icepack, her nose is swollen and so blue it’s black.

I take a step back. For a second I almost think about saying I’m sorry. But then I remember all the hair that came out in clumps and the scratches on my cheek and think better of it.

As I walk away, the receptionist at the front desk waves me toward her. “Yes?” I ask.

“This woman is here to see you,” she clarifies and I shake my head. The woman, wearing a black leather jacket, slacks, and heels is smiling and extending her hand.

“Michelle Williams,” she says. “Kolton Royce has hired me to represent you today. I’m a local attorney. I just need a few moments of your time. He’s asked me to file a protection order for you against a Kimber Smith.”

“Oh, yes. A protection order,” I say. As we sit down in the empty waiting area, I tell her what happened, and she makes me feel like I have the right to be safe.

At the end of our time, she’s listened, questioned, scribbled my words on yellow pages, and taken pictures of my injuries. But most of all, she’s assured me that Kimber won’t be allowed anywhere near me. Not on the bus. Not on the tour.

And after, as I finally lie back down in own bunk. I plug in my phone and decide to say just one thing.

Kolton

2:02 AM

Thank you for sending the lawyer.

Tonight, I’ll let him think he helped me, even though he believes I found out his secret and attacked the messenger. Even though it’s not true, and I did nothing wrong, I’m hoping he can say the same thing.

The Loneliest

I
’ve been scolded over Skype by Joyce McKim, the executive producer of
The Stage
. Apparently, she’s the mastermind behind the tour, also, and she’s done everything in her power to downplay what happened between me and Kimber. I read an article that said we’d had an accident on the bus. I guess this is how lies are built up over the truth for the people who can afford it.

As long as there’s no video to prove otherwise, what’s been published is that on the way to our next gig, the bus had to stop to avoid an accident. Kimber broke her nose against the back of a seat, and I was sitting next to her so she scratched my face when she flew forward. I guess it could have happened. Right now I’m just glad that no one outside of this tour will have to bring it up to me again.

And that bitch, Kimber, left in a car to the airport as soon as we got to Ontario. With my protection order rushed through, thanks to Kolton’s fancy lawyer, she can’t be anywhere near me. Seeing her drive off was the only good change in the monotony of this tour.

As I walk into the dressing room at the Modell Performing Arts Center, I’m hopeful that Kolton hasn’t forgotten about our ritual. As I cross the threshold into the dressing room, I realize that the other thing that’s changed is there is nothing waiting for me from Kolton in front of my mirror. The stark emptiness on the counter where his present should be causes me to lose my breath for a second. My stomach drops. I chuck my Birkin on the floor under the mirror, and plop myself into the swivel chair so I can rub my aching temples.

I haven’t talked to him in two days—not a call, not a text. Nothing. But something about this, the lack of his presence in the room with me, hurts. It really, really hurts.

It’s more confirmation that he’s blaming me. On my end, I’m scared to confirm what I already know happened the night before Katharina died. We’re at an impasse. Neither of us wants to take one more step for fear of falling off the edge into the unknown place where we might not be able to stay together.

“Mia,” Kaya says. Her voice comes in like a mist in the middle of my thoughts. I shake them off and close my eyes. She and I haven’t talked either.

I kind of want to keep it that way.

“Yeah?” I ask, keeping my eyes down. If I look at her, it’s going to hurt. She’s my best friend and I was a bitch to her.

“I’m going home. Kolton sent me a ticket,” she says. Her mention of Kolton, and the fact that he’s talking to her, not me, stings again, bringing back all of my feelings about her betrayal.

“Did he? I’m glad he’s talking to one of us, then. But then, I guess you’ve been doing that all along.”

“That’s all you have to say?” she asks. “I tell you I’m leaving and you don’t give a shit?” Her voice wavers as she speaks. She’s hurt, but her pain is too much for me. I’d have to add it to the rest of the stuff I drag around in my too heavy heart. She’ll get over this. She
is
my best friend.

“I can’t right now, Kaya,” I say. “I don’t know what to say or…I don’t know how to make this right anymore.”

“For one thing, whatever I do with Don is none of your business.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But working together was a bad idea.” When I say it, her face drops and she puts her hand on her chest. “I’m sorry, but it was.”

“I thought it was going to be fun,” she admits.

“But then it wasn’t in the end,” I say, sarcasm dripping from the words in heavy waves. “Welcome to my world.”

“Do you hate me that much?”

“Don’t be stupid,” I scold her. “But you know as well as I do that you can’t just help my boyfriend lie to me and everything’s going to be fine between us.”

“I did that because you wanted to wait until he was ready to tell you,” she says, her voice tight and her eyes trained down on me in anger.

“You lied to me, Kaya. And when you did, you changed our friendship,” I cry, and her eyes begin to fill with tears. “There’s no way I can trust you. Not for a long time.”

“But when he told me why…” she says.

“Who decided to conspire to keep me in the dark? You guys made me feel like what I was doing was noble.” I say, and have to swallow down the burning humiliation of it all.

“You’re wrong, Mia.” The look on her face changes from hurt to anger, and then something else passes over her face. I can’t read it. It looks like she feels sorry for me. It’s sympathy.

“I’ve always been there for you, no matter what,” she says, disappointment written all over her face. “I did what I thought was right. I was trying to help.”

“You’re right. It’s all my fault,” I say, mocking her. “I’m not a good friend,” I agree, with conviction. “It’s only my first tour and I needed an actual assistant instead of a BFF who’s looking for a hook-up.” She sets her jaw, and braces herself as I attack her so I’ll feel better. I know what I’m doing right now is wrong. But I lash out anyway.

“You should really check your ego, Mia,” she says mockingly. Her tone irks me, makes me feel like I’m being selfish, and right now I probably am. But I don’t want to be shown it right now. I’ve got enough to worry about as it is.

“And you should really go home,” I say, matching her tone. With that, I turn my chair around to face the mirror. I keep my eyes away from her. I can’t look at her again with disappointment pulling her features into lines and frowns.

I close my eyes and listen as she walks away. As the room fills with Jessie and Tarise, their nervous laughter and humming energy isn’t even enough to trick me into believing I’m not actually the most alone I’ve ever been in my life.

Not even the whole auditorium swaying to my songs, clapping, and whistling is enough to bring me out of the loneliest night of my life.

As I bow the last time before heading off to my bunk, I’m struck with regret. I wish I’d hugged her. I wish I’d been happy for her and Don.

I wish there was a way to make this right.

Ignored

“H
e paid her off,” I hear Tarise whispering to Kenny as I’m walking toward the bathroom from my bunk. I freeze. The lights aren’t on in the hallway; they can’t see me, and if I stay still, I can hear what they’re saying.

It’s been a week and I haven’t heard from Kolton. I’ve almost Googled the video so many times. My fingers twitch when I think about it but I’m scared that if I look, and I find out it’s true—and then he’s not here to at least explain himself—we won’t make it through this. It’s like the bond we’ve nurtured during those months we shared after the finale is starting to fade. And, whatever the truth, it might have the power to disintegrate us into the air like a tragic mist.

He’s been hiding this from me and not for the reason I thought. Part of his reasoning has to do with me being upset with him. All along I’d thought it was just too hard for him to talk about it. And now he won’t even talk to me at all. I was the last to reach out. It was that same night when I thanked him for sending me the lawyer.

He’s never replied.

“H—h—how much?” Kenny asks.

“She can’t say because, you know how they make them sign something? But she hired a lawyer and everything. He paid her to drop the charges—just like he paid that back-up singer to drop her lawsuit.”

“Damn!” Kenny says, leaning back into the back of the bench. “Th—th—that’s the part I’m not l—l—looking forward to. Being a target for lawsuits.”

“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that,” she giggles.

So now I know why he never had to go to court about that lawsuit against him when he fired his backup singer for trying to make me jealous while I was in Sacramento. He settled with her—which just proves that he keeps things from me. It’s probably all online, if I could push myself to Google him.

But I’m not ready to let go of what we still have. I’m not ready to watch our bond dissolve into the air around me like an apparition of love.

I can’t—because it still feels so real.

*     *     *

We’re in Massachusetts a day before the next show. Tomorrow is Riley’s tenth birthday. I’ve just finished tracking the delivery for my order for the new Pokémon game. It says it arrives today—just in time. Deloris is going to wrap it for me. And she’s having a party, but there are only a couple of kids coming who live in the building at the rental apartment.

I bet she’s lonely. She had so many friends at her old school. I really think she should go to an actual physical school next year—not just home school. I’m going to look into getting her into a private school. I can afford it now, all on my own—without Kolton’s deal. Without Kolton.

The thought of ‘without Kolton’—no matter how empowering it’s supposed to sound in my head—makes my stomach turn in circles. I don’t want to be without Kolton.

After the show tomorrow, Jessie and I are flying to LA for the EMAs. I was so excited about this before, because I would finally get to see Kolton. Now I’m dreading it like someone’s going to poke the bear and throw me in his unattended den.

I’m almost alone on the bus, looking out at the snowy scene, feeling transformed but hollow—kind of like a snow flake falling aimlessly on the ground. Some of the others have gone out, but Kenny stayed behind. I hear him rustling around in the back lounge area. Mayra’s outside smoking a cigarette.