by Vivian Lux
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ewan
The entire venue seemed to have morphed overnight into a makeshift shrine to us. Paper flyers flapped in the lightest of breezes making the walls seemed unsettlingly alive.
"Bit of overkill, yeah?" Jules observed.
"From the Wreckage," Hudson read. "The new sound of rock and roll."
"It's a touch... grandiose," added Niall, the King of all Understatement.
I shook my head. Last night's show had already gone viral and the crowd that clamored outside of the Sound Garden had nearly tripled from last night's numbers. One of the security guards spilled the beans about the scalpers selling tickets for five times the face value and a number of flyers screaming our Messianic status as the saviors of rock and roll was approaching fire hazard levels.
"This is too much," I groaned.
Jules clapped me on the shoulders, wisely steering me away from the wall-of-praise. "Don't fret, old man," he teased. "All we gotta do is fuck up royally tonight and it'll take the pressure right off again."
"Hey!" protested Hudson as Niall glared.
Jules held up his hands to ward them off. "Hey now don't worry. I'm not planning on sucking. I'm planning on rocking their faces off, just like I always do." He slapped Hudson hard on the shoulder. "I'm just offering it up as an option for Ewan the Pessimist over here. He doesn't like it when things go well."
"I'm fine with things going well," I said, turning to plead with them. "But don't you think this hype is too much too fast? Don't you think it's getting a little out of control?"
Niall and Jules fell silent, but Hudson gave a little grunt of disagreement. "Yeah but no," he drawled. "My theory is that things happen at exactly the speed they're supposed to."
Jules patted Hudson patronizingly. "Listen to the Buddha of Queens over here."
I tried and failed to unclench my jaw. "I don't know."
"Well fuck." Hudson blew out an exasperated breath. "If you don't believe me, talk to your girl, C." I gaped at him as he turned slowly, looking at each of us in turn with his hands spread. "I mean, how fast is that going, right? And I'm sure you'd think it's going at the right pace. Maybe," he raised a pointed eyebrow. "You even think it's going too slowly?"
"Fuck off," I sighed with a short laugh.
He shrugged. "Okay so don't talk about that. But maybe ask her how quick these hype trains get going and how sustainable they are. She's in the business, she'd know."
I cocked my head and stared at him. "For a dumb American, you're pretty smart."
He grinned that dazzlingly white grin. "Smarter than I look," he agreed.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. Right now she'd still be at work and probably would be right up until the show. So I dialed her desk phone first.
Her perky, recorded voice picked up after the fifth ring. "Hi! You've reached Celia Gilbert at Anthem Records." I narrowed my eyes and hung up. She was probably moving around, maybe in a meeting or something. I flipped over to send her a text. "Craziness," I wrote. "Call me?"
Shoving the phone in my pocket, I tried to think of anything else, but the flapping of the flyers on the wall was like the waving of a warning flag. I pulled my phone out and saw she hadn't replied yet. This time I dialed her cell number.
When it went to voicemail, I hung up and immediately dialed again. I had no idea why, but it was suddenly immensely important that I hear her voice. Right now.
After the fourth ring, I thought her voicemail had picked up again, but the message never came. I strained my ears and thought I heard the faint sound of breathing. "CeCe?" I asked.
"Yeah." Her voice was muffled and odd sounding.
"Hey, love."
"Hey."
I swallowed. "Sorry, I called your desk first. Thought you might be on your way over. You on your way?"
She was silent for so long I thought I'd dropped the call. "Celia?"
"I got caught up at work," she finally replied.
I paused for a second. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"You're there now?"
"Yeah."
"So..." I was having a hard time piecing this together. "You're not coming tonight?"
Her voice was so small I could barely hear her. "They found out, Ewan."
My heart thudded in my throat. "Who? Found out what?"
Her breath caught and a little sob escaped. "Who I am."
Suddenly everything clicked into place. "Celia? What happened?"
"Work. They know my last name now." She took a deep, hitching breath and her voice got louder. "Exactly what I was terrified would happen if people found out we were together, Ewan. It happened."
"Celia." Panic was making my voice louder. "So somebody found out you weren't who you said you were. It doesn't matter, does it love?"
"Yes," she hissed. "It does. It matters to me."
My fingers gripped the phone so tightly but I still felt like she was slipping away. "Celia listen to me. I don't give a shit about your last name. It doesn't matter if you're Celia Gilbert or Celia Silver. Whoever you are, fuck, whoever you want to be? I love you."
The quiet stretched out. I strained to hear her over the sound of the preparations around me, the banging and yelling of the stage crew. I slammed my hand over my other ear. "Celia?" I begged.
Her voice choked. "I'm sorry Ewan," she said and it sounded like she was saying goodbye.
When the line went dead, so did my heart. An unseen door opened, sending all the flyers fluttering like mad.
"Fuck!" I shouted and rushed to tear them down.
"Ewan?" Jules called, sounding frightened as I ripped and shredded the flyers, tearing them into little bits that fluttered like confetti in the air. "Have you gone fucking mental? What the fuck are you doing, mate?"
"It's too fast!" I shouted, looking around at the walls, the hype, the show CeCe wouldn't be coming to. "The deal is off. I can't fucking do this," I declared, suddenly exhausted. And with that, I walked out the door.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Celia
I'd turned the ringer off half an hour ago, but my phone still lit up every time August called. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see the accusing screen.
Hiding in my apartment was the easy thing to do, but then again, what had hard work gotten me? I'd stuck my neck out and gotten my head chopped off in the process so there was really no point in me trying anymore. Best to just start collecting my trust fund and go be the person people already thought I was.
I opened my eyes to see my phone light up again and immediately shut them once more. By now the guys would be playing their second show. Ewan was probably pretty pissed, but the adulation would soothe him. He liked to pretend he didn't want the runaway success they were guaranteed, but he was a rockstar. Of course he did.
He said he loved you,
My eyes snapped back open and I shook my head. There was no way he was serious. And besides, it didn't matter. It was over.
He said he was only interested in things that last.
Well, that was nice, but it couldn't last. We were kidding ourselves from the get-go.
My phone lit up again. In a rush of bitter anger, I snatched it off the table and stabbed the answer button with my finger. "Bad timing, August," I snapped.
As usual she just rolled right over my objections. "I'm downstairs and it's starting to rain. Buzz me in before I scale the fucking wall, C."
Sighing, I reluctantly pressed the door button. Then I stood up and straightened my shoulders. If August sniffed out one iota of weakness in my resolve, she'd pounce. I had to let her know, in no uncertain terms, that my relationship with Wreckage was over.
I could hear her feet pounding up the stairs. Without meaning to, I took a step back right before she burst through the door. "Celia Silver, what the fuck did you do to my guitarist?" she bellowed.
I reeled back. "Your guitarist? That's what you're worried about?"
"I'm his fucking manager and he just bailed on a b
ooking."
"Yeah but I'm your best friend and wait...what?"
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Yeah. Went fucking apeshit. Tore a bunch of shit off the walls and just booked it out of there. No one can find him and he's supposed to be on right now." She started pacing, turning in a tight circle in my tiny living room. "The venue manager is howling and I've got a real shitshow on my hands. So why don't you tell me what the fuck happened?"
I inhaled sharply and held out my phone. The gossip page was still loaded, the headline blaring. "Everyone knows," I said as she peered at it. "At Anthem."
I waited for her to wince, or sigh, or maybe fold me into a hug. I waited for her to acknowledge that my worst fear had come true.
But instead she just got an odd look on her face. "You know what Ewan was yelling about as he tore up the flyers?" I shook my head. "He was saying it was happening too fast and that the deal was off."
I winced. "No, he wants the deal. He's just freaking out because..." I swallowed. "Because he told me he loved me and I told him goodbye."
A flicker of something passed over August's face and was gone. "So somebody took your picture..."
I shook my head vehemently. "It wasn't just that," I protested, my face heating up. "My whole fucking office, August. They all gathered around to stare at it." I pressed my hand to my chest and tried to slow my breathing. "They said I couldn't sign a band on my own, even with my Daddy's help so...so I had to spread my legs to seal the deal." I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to cry again.
August was silent for a moment. Only the slow hiss of her breath told me how angry she was, so when she opened her mouth, I expected her to lash out in a torrent of profanity on my behalf.
Instead she sighed. "So a couple of people were mean to you at work, C. That doesn't negate everything you've accomplished." She stepped forward, leveling me with her gaze. "Honestly hon? Who gives a shit if they know who you are?" She touched my face and a flicker of a smile turned into a big, open grin. "It's more important that you know who you are."
I felt something loosen in my chest and suddenly was able to take a deep breath. August nodded slowly, and then faster. "That's it, C-dawg."
"Fuck," I exhaled.
"Yeah."
"August...."
"Yeah, I know. Don't worry about it though. You know now. So tell me, who are you?"
It doesn't matter if you're Celia Gilbert or Celia Silver. I love you, he'd said. "Fuck," I said again, turning to the door.
"Yeah girl!" August crowed. "Go get him!"
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ewan
I was fucking over my bandmates and I knew it but there was no way I could play tonight.
If the venue came after them for lost ticket sales, I'd pay them. I shell out whatever I needed and then I'd quit. They were poised to be a huge fucking success and they didn't need my bullshit weighing them down. Ironic that I'd changed our name from what it was at first because it was pretty clear I'd gone and wrecked everything.
Alone in my white kitchen was a pretty fucking sad place to be pounding the Scotch, but I couldn't be around people right now.
There was only one person I wanted to be with but she was too wrapped up in her own neuroses to see that.
"Bloody hell," I growled as I poured another draught. I slammed it back and then shoved the glass aside, ready to dispense with the formality and just drink straight from the bottle, when the alarm at my building entrance went off.
Blinking, I flicked on the security camera to see CeCe, standing there, arms hugging her chest tightly. For a moment my heart soared until reality dragged me down again. Celia was a classy girl. She would want the closure that came from a face to face meeting. She would be looking to end this thing professionally, like two business people drawing up a contract, with no messy leftover feelings to deal with. And as much as I hated the idea, I knew I loved her too much to do anything other than give her what she wanted.
"Fuck," I sighed and entered the code to let her up. Then I took a drink straight from the bottle.
The elevator dinged open and there she was, still so fucking pretty she took my breath away. "You're here," she said as she stepped into the kitchen.
I lifted the half empty bottle. "Been here a bit, yeah," I said tightly.
"You're supposed to be playing a show right now."
"Yeah well..." I shrugged, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. "I suppose if my label wants to fire me for not fulfilling my contractual obligations, I'd understand. Given that this is a business relationship and all."
She coughed and looked away from me. I hated how far away from me she was right now, but I also couldn't stand to have her any closer. "Ewan," she started to say.
"No, I get it," I said, gripping the bottle. "You tried to warn me from the very beginning. I told you I'd protect you from yourself but I see," my vision blurred and I looked away, choking. "I see I couldn't make you trust me enough for that to be enough."
"Ewan I trust you!" she cried, stepping to me. "And I know you mean what you say." She dropped her eyes. "And you said that you loved me."
"Aye," I said sadly. "I did. I do."
"Ewan, you told me it didn't matter whoever I was, or whoever I wanted to be, you loved me either way."
"I get it, lass." Now she was just pouring salt in the wound.
She stepped closer and I closed my eyes as her fingers brushed my face and I wished like hell I could pull away but I couldn't. "I know who I am," she said.
I opened my eyes to see her smiling. "I'm the woman that loves you."
I blinked and a warm sensation flooded my chest. I leaped to my feet and gripped her by the arms. "Are you serious?"
Her laugh was like a spring thaw after a long, dark winter. "Of course I'm serious! I love you and I don't care if they take our picture or write stupid headlines with silly words like canoodling." I had no idea what she was talking about, I was too wrapped up in the happiness that was flooding through me. "I'm Celia fucking Silver and I have music in my blood and I have Ewan fucking Boyd in my heart."
I lunged to kiss her, catching the corner of her grinning mouth before I pressed her face in between my hands and kissed her correctly.
"Ewan," she murmured against my mouth.
"Quiet, lass. You promised me next time we'd take it slow."
She laughed and gently pressed down on my arms. "Ewan you have a show to play."
"Fuck the show," I growled, trying to steer her to the bedroom.
"Ewan." She stepped back and leveled me with a glance. "You promised you'd protect me from myself. Well, I'm going to do the same for you. I won't let you sabotage this, do you hear me? You're too fucking talented to mess this up. You're playing tonight." She rushed in and kissed me again.
I took a deep breath. "Damn, lass."
She reached up and touched my face. "You go play your show," she told me. "Tear the roof off the fucker and make them all love you like I do." She bit her lip and I had to suppress a groan. "You do that and then come right back here and I'll be waiting."
My heart squeezed tight in my chest. "You'll stay?"
"Yes, lad." She nodded and pressed her lips to mine. "I'm staying."
Epilogue
Celia
I set the stack of contracts down on the big, oaken desk, right next to my father's bare feet.
"Thank God," he sighed as he leaned forward, taking his feet off the desk. "What would I do without you here?"
I rolled my eyes. "You've done fine without me here for thirty years now, Dad," I reminded him.
My father grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. His face was deeply tanned from his trip to...where I don't even know. I was too busy running his office while he was gone. "You're right," he said, in that slow, deliberate tone of his that I always made me worry.
"You're up to something," I said warily.
"I'm always up to something."
"True," I relented. "But this time I feel like it has to do
with me."
My Dad leaned back again. "I was just thinking about how great it was to be on vacation and know that this place was running fine in my absence. You know C? It's been thirty years and I've never had that kind of peace of mind. That's a long time."
"It is," I agreed, wondering where he was going with this.
He laced his fingers on the top of his shining silver head and then faked a huge, molar-baring yawn. "I'm old and tired, C."
"Bullshit, Dad. You've got more energy than guys half your age. You've got more energy than me!"
"That's because I've been running around like crazy running this place for so long, I don't know how else to be. But when I was on vacation with your mom...in her bikini..."
"Dad," I warned, wrinkling my nose.
He laughed. "I'm just saying I'm tired of working so hard for this place." His eyes gleamed. "I think it's time I give it to somebody I knew is an even harder worker than I am."
"Dad..."
"My daughter," he finished, standing up and gesturing to his chair.
I gaped at him and he laughed loudly. "You look just like you did when you came downstairs that one Christmas and caught Santa leaving your presents."
"You never told me who that was," I reminded him. "I know it wasn't you because you were busy recording it."
"It was Santa," he protested.
"Dad."
"What? He's real. I'd know, don't you think? I took the company jet to the North Pole last December!"
"Dad. Focus."
"What?"
"Did I really just hear you offer me Silvergate?" I asked, hardly daring to form the question.
He gestured to me. "Come sit."
Dumbfounded, I walked around the side of the massive desk. From the other side, I had a view of the whole office, all the gold and platinum records that lined the walls and beyond that a sprawling view of Central Park and Lower Manhattan behind it. I placed my palms flat on the smooth, oaken surface and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
