“The longer I was gone, the further I drifted from who I used to be, and the pain, my grief, became more manageable. I had just enough money left to travel to Glasgow, Scotland, and that’s where I’ve been for the last eight, nearly nine months. With no money, I had no choice but to sleep in this little one-man tent I’d bought. I used to set it up in a cemetery, believe it or not. And I’d busk in the city to make money to buy food. So yeah . . . Skylar Finch was homeless for a while,” I said dryly. “At the time, it was what I needed. Surviving filled my days instead of grief. But a while ago, I made a friend.” The thought of Killian filled me with so much sorrow, I could barely breathe. “And things got better. It felt like I was waking up from a really long sleep and when I did, I couldn’t believe how much time had passed.
“I was afraid,” I admitted. “I was afraid to reach out to Austin, Brandon, and Micah, to reach out to all of you because I’d left it too long. I’d been selfish. And I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry. You should know that the photos posted that outed me as ‘alive and well’ were taken right after Brandon and Micah offered me forgiveness for letting them worry about my safety for too long. I told you they’re great guys. And I spoke to Austin on the phone and we’re good too. You may not think I deserve their forgiveness, and maybe you’re right, but I have it, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.
“As to the photo that seems to show Micah and I kissing, we weren’t. It was a kiss on the cheek taken at an angle that made it look like a kiss. I’m sorry to disappoint any Miclar fans out there, but Micah and I are just friends. I love him and he loves me, but it’s in friendship. That’s all it’ll ever be.
“So . . .” I smiled wearily into the camera, “that’s where I’ve been. That’s why. I hope you can forgive me and understand that losing my mom threw me off course for a while. I also want to say, however, that this is probably the last personal thing I’ll ever post on social media. I love you all for supporting me, but I need to find happiness, and sharing the finer details of my life with the world media makes me the opposite of happy. I hope you understand, and I’m sorry if you don’t. But I have to be true to myself now. That’s all any of us can really do.”
I pressed the stop button and before I could talk myself out of it, I uploaded it onto both Twitter and Youtube. .
Truthfully, I felt shaky about it. Butterflies raged like wild things in my belly as I got into bed. But I couldn’t sleep. Not just because I worried about how the world was reacting as I laid there in that hotel room, but also because I knew what I had to do the next day.
And it was going to be a million times harder than uploading a video to social media.
* * *
I WAS AWAKE WHEN MY cell rang at six in the morning.
Knowing who it was before I even looked at the screen, I steadied myself as I reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
“What did you do?” Killian didn’t sound angry; he sounded confused.
Sitting up, I laid back against the headboard and sighed. “I did it my way.”
“I see that.”
“I’m not doing that interview.”
“I think I got that memo.”
We grew quiet for a moment and then he asked hesitantly, “Have you looked at the comments?”
Those butterflies I’d been feeling all night swarmed upward into my chest, creating a claustrophobic tightness. “No. Is it bad?”
“No, Skylar. It’s overwhelmingly positive. Gayle called me and said the media still thinks she’s your manager. She’s been getting a lot of follow-up interview requests. I told her to deny them all. You said what you had to say. It was brave. I’m proud of you.”
I closed my eyes, inadvertently squeezing out tears, and crushed the phone harder to my ear. “And here I thought I’d get a knock on the door from someone telling me I was being committed,” I cracked dryly. “I did admit to the world that I, a multimillionaire, was homeless for five months.”
“Yeah, well, your fans seem to appreciate the honesty. They also think a movie should be made about you.”
“Oh God,” I groaned at the thought. “Just what the world needs.”
“You don’t have to, but we still have the photographer and style team ready to go for this album cover shoot.”
“What time am I expected?”
“About ten.”
I trembled as I forced myself to say, “Can I meet you before then? Meet you at your office around 9:00 a.m.?”
“Of course. I miss your face.”
Fuck, it was like a stab to the heart. “Yeah, me too.” Because it was true. I did miss his face.
RICK AND ANGUS PICKED ME up from the hotel, which was a good thing because the crowd of paparazzi had grown larger since I’d posted the video. They shouted and jostled and grabbed at me as my security guards hustled me into their SUV.
I’d spent the morning in my hotel room not only getting ready for the day ahead but gathering the courage to hop back onto social media to check the comments on my video.
There was a lot of:
Skylar we love u!! Do what u gotta do! Keep healin’! <3
The beauty in their forgiveness bolstered me for what I was about to do. It reassured me that this was the right path to be on, no matter if it broke my heart.
That’s why I didn’t bother checking the newspaper articles now attached to my video. I didn’t care what the press thought. I cared what my fans thought, and the strength of their support carried me into Skyscraper Records.
Admittedly, that strength faltered as soon as I found myself standing outside his office.
Eve got up from behind her desk and hurried over to me. “Oh my God, Skylar, I had no idea! You’re so brave.” She threw her arms around me and although surprised by her over-familiarity, I couldn’t help but hug her back. She was such a sweet girl. I really hoped this industry didn’t change her.
“Thank you.” I pulled back and nodded to Killian’s door, feeling the color drain out of my cheeks. “Is he in?”
“Let me tell him you’re here.” She knocked on his door and at his “come in,” she opened it and poked her head in. “Mr. O’Dea, Skylar is here.”
“Thanks, Eve.” I heard him cross the room and then he pulled the door wide open. Our eyes met for a second and my courage fled. “Why don’t you,” he pulled out his wallet and removed some cash to hand to Eve, “head over to Starbucks and order a team’s worth of coffee and pastries for the shoot. Get someone to help you. Take a car.”
“Sure thing.” She threw me a smile as she grabbed her purse and strode off down the corridor.
It took effort, but I returned my gaze to Killian.
He stared at me with such love and affection, I wanted to burst into tears. “Come in,” he stepped back to let me pass.
I did and he’d barely shut the door behind us before he hauled me backwards into his arms. I wanted to melt into his kiss, let him devour me and fill me with bliss. The thought of never having this again made me shudder with grief.
Somehow, though, I found strength I didn’t know I had and pulled away from his kiss, not wanting to mislead him.
He didn’t deserve that.
Reluctantly, Killian let me go, a scowl marring his brow as I stumbled away from him. “What is it?”
I couldn’t hide why I was here. The anguish blazed in my eyes as I stared at him.
Understanding flared in his and then anger. “Why?” he bit out.
“Because I promised someone that the next time I committed to love that the man I chose would be a man who loved me enough to put my happiness before his own.”
Killian stared at me incredulously. “You know I love you. I’ve told you that. And I have never . . . told a woman that I loved her.”
“I know you love me,” I replied. “And I love you. That’s why I’m not going to fight this contract. A contract we both know I signed when I was in no fit state to do so. I’m not blaming you for that. I’m a grown woman; it was my mi
stake. I just didn’t realize how much unhappiness I was opening myself up to again when I signed it.”
“Skylar.” He crossed the room, reaching for me, but I held him off. He wasn’t happy but he stayed back. “It’ll be different this time.”
“No, it won’t.” I shook my head. “Can’t you see that? It’s too late, Killian. I’m out there and if I put this album out, I stay out there. Your team can take over my social media and relieve me of that pressure, but that won’t stop the fact that my decisions and choices will still be watched and judged. The anxiety that causes will always make me miserable. I love performing and I love writing music, but it comes with this shitstorm that I . . .” I took a shuddering breath. “One album. I only have to get through promoting one album. And then I’m done.” Our eyes met, his filled with disbelief and anger, mine with heartbreak. “I’m giving up the fame. That’s the only thing that will make me happy.”
“Not me?” he whispered.
“I love you.” The tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. “I will always love you. And I want you to have everything that you’ve ever wanted.” I gestured around the room, signifying the label. “But I need to be with someone who wants me to have all those things too. It would always be between us, and over time I’d grow to resent you for it. I know. I’ve been there before. And I don’t want that with you.”
Tears shimmered in his eyes, the show of emotion almost cutting me off at the knees as he stumbled toward me. “Don’t you think I would change it if I could? Don’t you think I fucking hate myself for putting you in this position?” He grabbed hold of my shoulders, pulling me into him. “Forgive me,” he pleaded, “and we can get through this album and then it’s over and you can have the life you want. With me.”
“Don’t,” I begged, trying to pull away, but he held me fast. “Killian, please.”
“I love you.” His voice shook as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I can’t lose you. I don’t know what will happen to me if I lose you.”
I cried harder. “Killian.”
“Please,” he choked out.
I couldn’t stand it. His plea was like a vise wrapping itself around my chest, the pain was so bad. “I have to go.” I pushed him away, fleeing his office, unable to bear his heartbreak on top of mine. He would weaken my resolve. I knew he would. And the thing was, we might seem okay at first, but I knew that just as it had with Micah, over time our feelings would turn toxic with resentment. Knowing I loved him more than he loved me would turn me into a ball of insecurity. I didn’t deserve that.
Thankfully, I didn’t pass anyone in the hall, ducking my head as I shot through reception to the elevator.
But I couldn’t hide my tearstained face from Rick and Angus when I hit the main reception of the building. Angus stepped forward and pulled the hood up on my coat. “Duck your head,” he murmured kindly. “Don’t let them see.”
I shivered, realizing the press had found us at the label.
They’d have a field day with that.
And I was right.
As I tried to erase the memory of Killian’s distraught expression, I was surrounded by the paparazzi.
“Skylar, are you making music again?”
“How was it to be homeless?”
“Skylar, what was life on the streets like?”
“Do you think you need professional help?”
Rick growled at that, shoving aside the guy who said it, and he hurried me into the car.
As soon as we were safely inside, I pulled down the hood and watched the city pass me by. I bit my lip so hard trying to hold back my tears, I tasted the coppery tang of blood.
It wasn’t until I got back to the hotel that I let the emotion flood out of me. I sobbed so hard, my ribs hurt.
I thought at one point I might actually die from the pain.
* * *
THE ROOM FELL DARK AS clouds moved through the sky. But as I sat on the floor at the end of the bed, staring at nothing, wishing I felt nothing, I had no idea how much time had passed.
My cell rang a couple of times but I ignored it.
I heard the click of the lock on my hotel door and I whipped my head around. Fear made me freeze.
But it was Autumn.
I forgot I’d given her a keycard when we checked me in.
She shut the door behind her and leaned against it. She looked so sad. “Oh, Skylar.”
Renewed tears trembled on my lashes.
Fuck, would they ever stop?
My friend crossed the room, dropping her bag and keycard on the bed, before she slid down next to me and put her arm around me. The relief that I hadn’t lost her too caused the tears to fall again.
“Sshhh,” she hushed, rubbing my shoulder in comfort. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” It felt like it would never be okay.
“I know,” Autumn admitted. “I know it’s not. But one day it will be again.”
“Can we get to that place now, please? I’d like to skip this heartrending, feeling-like-I’m-going-to-die bullshit.”
She laughed without humor and squeezed me closer. “It’ll come.”
“I ran out on the cover shoot,” I muttered. Like it mattered.
“You weren’t the only one.” Worry rang in her words as she told me, “Eve called me and told me you and Killian disappeared. That you’d left the building separately, both seeming upset according to Justin in reception. I tried my brother and couldn’t get him. So I went to his flat.” Her voice broke on the last word and I tensed against her. “I’ve only ever seen him like that once before. He was eighteen. It was the seventh anniversary of our parents’ death. But never again . . . until now.”
“I’m sorry.” My face crumpled.
“Oh, no, no,” she soothed. “Don’t. I always knew that one day I wouldn’t be able to protect him from himself. As soon as I saw how you were together, how he felt about you, I knew this was it. He manipulated the one person he shouldn’t have and now he . . .” Her voice hitched. “Now he just has to live with that.”
“Is . . . is he in pain?”
“Yes.”
I looked at her. Autumn stared straight ahead as tears slipped down her cheeks. His pain was her pain and vice versa. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’ve been through so much, Skylar. You need to do what’s right for you. And you’re right. Even if you stayed together, you’d end up resenting him, always questioning why he couldn’t put you first.”
Realizing Killian had told her I’d said that, I wondered if he’d told her everything. “I do love him.”
She turned to look at me. “I know that. He knows that. Otherwise you’d find a way to get out of this contract.”
“I can’t do that to him. Or to me. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”
Autumn sighed heavily, wearily. “There is a ton of press outside. Do you think they ever eat?”
I snorted. “I couldn’t care less. I hate them.”
“I know. The world doesn’t hate you, though. Everyone thinks you’re very brave for posting that video. I do too.”
“I took back control.”
“Yes, you did. As long as you do that throughout this whole ordeal, you’ll be fine.”
“Autumn?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think maybe Killian might stay away? I mean, at work. Do you think he could let the team take over and stay away? I think it would be easier.”
“I’ll have a word with him,” she promised.
Good. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want anything to weaken my resolve and I was afraid one more look in those dark eyes of his would snap my determination in half.
AT SEVEN THE NEXT MORNING, after another sleepless night, I had the hotel night manager slip me out of the back service entrance. I’d pinned my short hair to my head so I could tuck it under a borrowed baseball cap and I hurried down a narrow alleyway that let me out to the opposite side of the main entrance to an entire
ly different street.
I thought sunglasses might make me look more conspicuous and instead I’d layered my clothing so my body appeared bulkier. I kept my head down, tucked my hands into my pockets, and tried not to think about how hot I was, despite the low temperatures, with all the clothes on.
Not really sure what I was looking for, I headed toward Buchanan Street. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay in that hotel room one more second grieving for Killian and fighting the need to go to him. To change my mind.
There were no shops open yet and traffic was still light. I wandered aimlessly, pausing whenever I saw a homeless person sleeping in a doorway. Killian and I had been in the middle of setting up the charity I had in mind for the homeless. What would happen with that now? Would he turn it over to someone else to help me with it? My idea was for a soup kitchen/shelter. It would be first come, first serve. There would be plenty of reserves of food and as many beds as we could provide. Too many homeless people’s lives were in danger during the winter. They needed someplace warm to go.
Thinking of Mandy, I wandered toward Argyle Street.
I faltered when I saw Ham huddled under a shop doorway near the closed Arcade.
Deciding not to run from him, I made my way over and he looked up at me as I approached, opening his mouth probably to ask for spare change. He squinted at me and I lowered myself to my haunches.
“Hey, Ham,” I sounded hoarse from all the crying.
I knew my eyes were still swollen too.
He narrowed his gaze, trying to place me, and then recognition hit. “Busker Girl?”
“You can call me Skylar, Ham. How are you?”
“I feel better than ye look.” He flashed me a cheeky grin. “Too hot in all those clothes?”
As Dust Dances ~ Samantha Young Page 34
