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“What are you talking about? I had the PR team write me a statement. We put it out on social media!”
“And the radio interview?”
The words stopped me. Had Brady heard it? I thought back to everything I had said. It had started out fine—I told them that I was fully committed to the band. And I had stuck to the script my team had given me. But then there was the stuff about enjoying my time at home, and the recording studio ...
“I said what they told me to,” I deflected. I didn’t know exactly what Brady was talking about yet, and I wasn’t about to throw myself under the bus.
“Oh really?” he asked, his voice incredulous. “They told you to talk about a whole new business venture? They approved you to tell the world you’re going to open a recording studio in this tiny town?”
“The world?” I shot back. “It’s a small-town radio station! How did you even hear it?”
“That’s my job,” Brady answered. “And it’s not the point. I came here to ask you: Are you committed to the Horizon or not?”
The words were angry and felt too loud in the quiet summer night around us. I could only blink at him as I tried to think of what I could say. Of course, I cared for the band and my bandmates. And I was incredibly proud of the music we had made together. The thought of leaving the band entirely was painful. That wasn’t what I wanted.
“Of course I’m committed,” I said, lowering my voice to the level of regular conversation. If I was going to explain myself, I needed to be rational. I could only hope Brady would respond in kind. “The band means everything to me. And those guys are my closest friends. I don’t want to leave the band.”
“Well, it’s nice to hear you say that.” Brady nodded. “I’m going to need you to say it more often. And on social media. We need to fix things before this next tour.”
“Wait,” I stopped him before he could dive into whatever plans he had for our next publicity ventures. His eyes narrowed at me when he heard this, as if he knew he shouldn’t have trusted me.
“You know I don’t have time for waiting,” Brady shot back. I almost laughed at it—it was such a strange thing to say, but it was exactly something I would expect out of my manager.
“I’m committed to the Horizon, but things can’t stay the same forever,” I continued. “I’ve been interested in doing my own album for a long time. And if I’m going to remain creative and keep writing, then I need to try out some new things. Just because I want to work on something new doesn’t mean I need to leave the band.”
“And this recording studio?” he asked. His voice was dripping with disdain for the idea. I knew in an instant what Brady thought of it and, by extension, what he thought of me.
“You don’t think I can do it,” I said. It was like I was seeing Brady for the first time. Or I was finally done ignoring all the red flags that made him such an unlikeable person.
“Hey, now.” He put his hands up as if I were about to hit him. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to, Brady. I can tell what you think of me. Some rock star who can’t take care of himself and doesn’t understand the business. Well, that might have been the case when I was nineteen, but I’m in my thirties now. And it’s time for me to make some decisions about my own life.”
“Whoa, whoa!” he cried. “No one’s stopping you from living a life. I’m just reminding you you have responsibilities. Things are going well for us—it’s not the time to shake that up.”
“You mean it’s not the time to shake up your bank account!”
The words were harsh, and I regretted them as soon as I said them. But on some level, I knew they were true. Brady had a few other clients, most of them acquired after the success of the Horizon, but we were his biggest moneymakers. And I knew the sort of lavish lifestyle he led and likely wanted to maintain. If we were touring less or making fewer appearances on TV shows, it would affect Brady’s lifestyle most of all. My bandmates and I certainly had enough money to keep us going for a while even if we took a full year off.
“Is that what you think of me?” Brady asked. I thought he might get mad, but instead he played the victim. He looked at me with a pained expression, as if I had just broken up with him. “I hope you realize how committed I’ve been to this band. I’ve sacrificed my own life to make sure you all were successful.”
“That’s the problem,” I said, keeping my own voice cool and calm. “No one should be sacrificing everything. We can do this without losing sight of our families and our friends. We can leave space for people to explore other interests!”
“I didn’t think we would come to this,” Brady said. He was shaking his head, putting on a big show of looking upset. “I really didn’t want to have this conversation with you.”
“Brady, I think we should get the band together. Let’s talk about making this work. I’m not leaving, I just want a less grueling tour schedule. I think some of the other guys will agree.”
“I’ve talked to the other guys. Frankly, they’re quite upset you haven’t come to them to have this conversation.”
Was this true? I thought about my bandmates and wondered if they would really confide in Brady before they confided in me. I hadn’t talked to anyone since coming home except for a brief phone call with Liam after my concert in town. Was that proof they were upset with me? It wasn’t like them to stay silent about things like that. We had always been open with each other.
“I’ll talk to them,” I offered.
“Too late for that.”
“What do you mean it’s too late?”
“We had a band meeting last night.”
