Page 151 of The Comedown

Maybe I’m not the degenerate I used to be?

Maybe people can change.

And maybe, just maybe, I already have.

If I hadn’t, I’d be heading to the bar for an entirely different reason. I’m going to the bar, but I’m going for Collette.

She’s shaking her head, laughing at something her ex just said, not in a humorous way, but in a sneer, and I’d like to take whatever he just said to her and shove it up his ass, because if Collette’s sneering at it, I would, too.

“Let’s go see if your dad wants my autograph,” I half-joke, already walking. I’ll give him my signature, if only so I can be by Collette’s side right now. Not in front of her, not behind her; right fucking next to her.

Holter follows, but slow as shit. He drags his feet in the sand the entire way, making me think he might be the only person that wants to see his dad less than I do right now.

“Come on. We just gotta see what he wants,” I tell him before praying to whoever’s willing to listen that whatever Bodee wants aren’t the same things I want, because if they are, there aren’t enough NDAs in the world to keep me from doing something stupid.

Collette

“How’d you do it?” Bodee repeats for what might be the third time since he showed up unannounced to corner me at this beach bar, demanding I explain how I got The Mousais gig. The one that has not been made public yet.

“How’d you know?” I also ask for the third time.

“You forget I have friends everywhere.”

Of course I didn’t forget, I just didn’t know he’d made one so high up.

I’ve never been nominated for an award, let alone asked to perform at one of the shows, but recently, The Mousai Awards reached out, wanting me to perform. I suspect it has to do with the attention The Family Julez Tour’s been receiving ever since Julian and I added our duet with the piano, but I can’t be positive. I’d like to believe it’s because I’ve earned it fair and square. I’ve busted my ass putting in the work, continually fighting against the never-ending current called Bodee.

That’s probably why he’s here now, pissed off that I somehow made it past.

“I earned it,” I tell my ex smugly, just to rub salt in the wound.

Regardless of the real reasoning, it’s a huge honor to perform at The Mousais. They’re the highest-ranking televised music award show we have in the US. I haven’t shared the news with anybody outside my team because it’s not a done deal yet as negotiations are still very much in progress. If it were just me, contracts would’ve been signed already, but I want Julian up there with me, and the academy is…hesitant. Julian has a reputation. He doesn’t always show up, and even when he does, sometimes he’s under the influence. He curses like crazy, in real life but also in his songs, and he’s got tattoos that’d need to be covered in order to appear on a platform of that size. And so, I’m fighting. I’m fighting for his career as well as mine. I’ve already seen what an amazing musician Julian is, now I want the world to see, too.

As soon as I get the green light, I want to be able to tell Julian myself first. I know he’ll be just as excited as I am…assuming I can get The Mousais to accept.

This little hiccup with Bodee might hinder that, but he hasn’t brought Julian’s name into the mix yet, so maybe he doesn’t know.

I plan to keep it that way.

He’s been interfering in my career all along; I’m not going to let him derail Julian’s, too.

“You can’t.”

“I will,” I reply, fully aware my voice has no chance of reaching anyone’s ears thanks to Bodee’s minions keeping everybody out of earshot, even the bartender and servers.

“You’re going to step down.”

Taking a sip of my spicy mango Michelada, I smirk, telling him, “I won’t.” I was right. He is mad. I’m actually getting ahead, I’m actually getting somewhere, and Bodee didn’t cause it, nor can he stop it. For once, I’m completely out from under his—

He places a folder on top of the bar.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Slowly, I flick the top over, immediately regretting it.

Pictures, dozens of them, stare up at me from inside the folder accusingly. Some are of me and Julian outside the strip club that first week of tour when we were at each other’s throats for reasons neither of us were willing to articulate at the time. Some are from inside the club, during lap dance I received. Some are of me being manhandled on top of the bus the night of the rainout. Bottom line is they cast me in a provocative light.