Page 4 of Bound By Song (Evie Quad Omegaverse #1)
I let Xar’s words get to me, stewed over them until I reached breaking point and then I just had to get out of there. It was leave and get drunk, or finish the show and get high. And one of those outcomes would have been way worse than the other. For everyone involved.
Despite the downward spiral I seem to be on, I have no desire to end up back at rock bottom once more.
Me and Xar might not be getting along great right now, but I couldn’t do that to him again. If the fans knew, maybe they’d cut me a little slack.
Then again, maybe not. It’s not like I deserve their understanding.
Among the sea of notifications, one stands out – a message from Liv, our manager. “Emergency meeting at the label’s office, 9 AM sharp. We need to discuss last night’s incident.”
On a Sunday? Fuck!
A quick glance at the time shows it’s already 8:15 AM. Urgency surges through me, momentarily overshadowing the throbbing in my head. I have to get right across the city in under an hour? Damn near impossible, even on a Sunday.
Flagging down a cab, I replay the events in my mind.
Xar’s accusation about Lena, my impulsive decision to leave mid-set, the mindless escapism that followed.
Each choice, a step deeper into the mess I’ve created.
The cab driver’s radio murmurs in the background, snippets of a news report filtering through: “In other news, fans were left disappointed last night when Ruin Bound’s performance was abruptly cut short…
” I sink lower into my seat, shame washing over me and pressing me down like a physical force I can’t fight.
I’ve fucked up. Badly. And I need to fix this. Somehow.
Arriving at the label’s office, I barely have time to compose myself before being ushered into the conference room. I had the cab pull over and ran the rest of the way to make it in time. Well, ten minutes late, but that’s practically early for me.
Liv stands at the head of the table, her expression a mix of concern and frustration which makes me feel even worse.
I’ve behaved like a dick, made her job harder, and yet she’s worried about me.
She’s been with us right from the start and has been nothing but kind, patient and supportive while I’ve repeatedly fucked up. She deserves better. As do my pack.
Dane nods to me. Xar is already seated, his gaze fixed on a point far beyond the room, jaw clenched tight. He doesn’t acknowledge me at all, even though I’m the one sporting a cracking black eye, but I guess I can’t blame him.
The air is thick with unspoken tension.
“Sit,” Liv’s voice is curt, leaving no room for argument.
I comply, the weight of my actions settling heavily on my shoulders.
She takes a deep breath, as if steadying herself, before speaking.
“Last night’s stunt has cost us all – financially and reputationally.
The fans are outraged, the label is furious, and we’re on the brink of losing major endorsements.
” Each word is a blow, the reality of the situation sinking in deeper.
Fuck. I never even considered the wider repercussions.
I didn’t think at all. Just reacted and tried to take the smoother road to ruin, the slower burn rather than jumping into the full blaze.
Pick the edge that doesn’t cut as deep, take poison which will kill you slowest, and cause the least amount of chaos for those you leave behind.
I didn’t think. I was rash and impulsive and wrapped up in my own pain. I traded the temptation of oblivion for something that would let me drown in my pain, but I let everyone down and now I might have cost my bandmates, my pack, everything we’ve ever dreamed of.
Fuck.
Xar finally turns his gaze toward me, eyes burning with a mix of anger and disappointment.
“We had a responsibility to our fans, to each other. You walking off stage…” He trails off, shaking his head as if he’ll say something he’ll regret if he continues.
The weight of his unspoken words hangs heavy in the air.
I open my mouth to defend myself, to explain, but the excuses die on my lips.
What justification is there for letting down the people who believed in us?
The only three people that actually give a fuck about me, who have stood by me through everything, are in this room right now, and I’m out of excuses.
How do I apologise for jeopardising everything we’ve worked so hard to build?
For what, a woman who was using me all along?
She more than proved I mean absolutely nothing to her, and yet I almost threw it all away for her.
I’m a fucking idiot.
The silence stretches, oppressive and suffocating.
Liv breaks the silence, her tone softer but no less firm.
“We need to issue a public apology, address the fans directly. Blaise, you were struck down with a sickness bug and had to seek medical attention immediately. That is the official story and you better hope to hell that no-one comes forward with evidence to refute that claim. You are incredibly sorry for letting down the fans but glad you followed the correct protocol to ensure no one else got sick, especially with the meet and greets scheduled after the gig… It also goes without saying that internally, you three need to get your act together. This can’t happen again.
” Her gaze pierces through me, the weight of her expectations clear.
I nod, the enormity of my mistake crashing over me, but still unable to find the words needed to apologise.
Why does it feel like a lump of lead is stuck in my throat?
Why does getting high feel so fucking tempting right now?
I’ve been clean for years but the weight of their crushing disappointment is making my skin crawl with the need to escape and forget.
I won’t though. I made a promise. And whilst I’m a lot of shitty things, I’m not about to add ‘relapser’ to that list.
Liv’s gaze hardens, her voice unwavering. “The label has proposed a solution,” she announces, each word deliberate. “But I assure you, it’s not one you’re going to like.” The room falls into a tense silence, the weight of her statement hanging heavily in the air.