Page 9 of Broken Harmony (Heartbreak Melody #2)

A Few Months Later

“We have a press conference at one, a photo shoot at three, and you are scheduled to do a few hours of recording tonight,” Julia, my manager, says as we walk through the hotel after our breakfast business meeting.

“Okay.” I blow out a breath, nodding. “Anything else you’d like me to do until then?”

“Nope.” She grins at me, stopping at the elevator. “I’ll meet you back here at noon. I’ll call the guys and have them meet us at the recording studio.”

“Aren’t they going to the press conference too?” My brow furrows.

“Nah.” She waves me off. “They’re just a band. You're the singer. No one wants to hear from them. Anyways, don’t be late.”

She turns around on her heel, leaving me standing there in shock. Did she just really say what I think she said? What the fuck is wrong with her?

In all honesty, I hate her. I’ve hated her from the moment we met back when I started with Dynamite Wave Records.

I could tell she was all fake, from her smile to her boobs. There’s something cold behind her blue eyes.

She hasn’t done anything outright to prove my worries; there's just this energy she gives off.

But seeing how I’m new to this world and should feel lucky enough to have this opportunity as it is, I haven’t said anything. I don’t want to make waves when I have no idea how this industry works. If anything, I should feel grateful enough to need a manager, right?

From what I’ve heard, she’s one of the best in this company and has some pretty big names under her belt. I can put up with her if it means she does good for our career.

That includes the guys.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I send a quick text to her, letting her know the guys are coming to the press conference. She reads it, and it takes until I'm in my hotel room for her to reply.

Julia: If they must.

“This woman,” I huff, shaking my head.

We’re in New York this weekend for our press tour, and because we have a short amount of time to make this record, I feel like it’s been nonstop since we started a few months ago.

Not that I’m not loving it, I am. It’s amazing to be able to see my creations come to life, to mix them with the guys' magic and make our own.

My YouTube channel has gained a lot more followers, a few more million than before. Everyone is hyped, and the little piece we’ve been teasing of the first song, Twisting My Soul, has gotten millions of views on every video we’ve shared.

It’s like I blinked and I went from being a nobody from a tiny town to somebody.

My uncle said Rage Against the Heart is going to take the world by storm, and I’m starting to believe him.

When the guys and I came up with a name for the band, it was perfect. I wanted to keep the name the guys had before, but they insisted we start over new.

“She’s doing it again,” I growl into the phone as I storm into the hotel room.

“Lovely,” Skyler mutters. “What’s the witch done now?”

“She’s trying to exclude you guys from the press conference.”

“What the fuck?” he hisses. “But it’s about our band.”

“I know.” I kick my shoes off. “She’s starting to piss me off.”

“She pissed me off from the moment Becky brought her into the business room and told us she was our new manager.”

I snort. “Yeah, same. But still. She’s getting more and more demanding. Is it just me, or is she trying to pull away from the plan Becky has in place?”

“So it’s not just us that noticed that,” Skyler mutters. “Ally, we haven’t wanted to say anything, but it’s almost like Julia is trying to make you into a solo act.”

“It’s not going to happen,” I insist. “I don’t care what she wants. It’s us or nothing. It’s in the contract.”

“I know. I’m not saying she’s going to get what she wants, but it’s almost like she’s trying to isolate us. Don’t you think, Ally Cat?”

I wince at the use of my new stage name. It wasn’t my idea. Okay, the choice in name was, but it was better than the one Julia came up with. Pinkie Pie. Like, was she for fucking real? I’m not a fucking My Little Pony character.

But she insisted on a stage name to help build a brand. Thankfully, she liked my choice. It was kind of a panicked in the moment pick. The first thing that came to mind was Lulu’s nickname for me. It was the only nickname I’ve ever liked.

And now it’s what the world is going to know me by. Some part of me feels like I betrayed Lulu by using the name. But another part of me feels connected to her.

“I don’t know what to do.” I sigh heavily, flopping back onto the bed.

“Other than to fight her on it any chance I get. I told myself I wasn’t going to be a sellout.

And Becky agreed that having you guys be a band with me was the best choice.

I think it has a lot to do with the fact that Julia has never worked with a band, only solo acts.

Maybe she just needs time to get used to it. ”

“We’re going to be at the press conference. It’s for Rage Against the Heart. Not Ally Cat.”

My gut sinks as guilt hits me. “I’m sorry.” My eyes well with tears.

Skyler lets out a sigh. “Hey now, Spitfire. No crying. I’m not mad at you, okay? Just pissed off at her.”

“If she doesn’t lay off, I’m going to talk to Becky. I know Julia is good at her job and all, but there are some things I won’t budge on.”

“I say, for now, we remind her who she’s working for, huh?” he says, and I can hear the cheekiness in his tone.

A smile takes over my face. “Yeah. I like that. I’ll see you at one, okay? Are you at the hotel?”

“Nah, we’re out shopping. But we’ll be back.”

“Without me!?” I gasp, and he chuckles.

“You want a new car?”

“Ahh, on second thought, have fun.” I don’t like cars. Don’t care about them. But the guys? It’s all they talk about. I’m not surprised the first thing they're buying with their signing bonus is a car.

I’m perfectly fine with the teal Volkswagen Beetle my dads had shipped out for my birthday. Not that I get a chance to use it much. I only managed to stay with my uncle for two weeks before the tour started, and I’ve been traveling pretty much ever since.

Needing to pass the time, I turn the TV on and flick through the channels. I can’t remember the last time I just sat down and watched TV. I’m never on my phone unless it’s to post for social media. I’m too busy writing or recording.

Sadly, the hotel has shit-all for channels, or maybe it’s just the time of day, because there’s nothing good on TV.

Giving up, I leave it on a random channel as background noise and go over to the little kitchenette to make myself a coffee. I’m going to need one, or three, to get me through today.

Coffee has become my new best friend. So have soft blankets to wrap myself up in when I get lost in my head during writing sessions.

After I make my coffee, I go to my makeshift nest in the corner.

The downside of travelling so much is that I haven’t been able to build a proper one. I hate hotels, they’re too big.

Most of the time, I’m able to get put into an Omega-approved room, but it’s not the same. The sad little space they have for nest building smells too sterile, like cleaning products.

It’s why I bring my own blankets and other things the guys have gotten me. Like a travelling nest kit. It’s been working for the most part, but I know in a few years, when I start having heats, it’s not going to be enough.

Julia says she plans on getting us a tour bus with a place for my own nest, but until then, I’m going to have to make do. We’re not set to go on tour until the end of the year, after we get some good buzz on this album.

Curling up in a blanket, I take a sip of my coffee and play a game on my phone.

“Live from the courthouse, I’m Mave Temple. Today is hopefully the end of the trial between Lucinda Carter and Pastor Don Welsh.”

My eyes widen, snapping up to look at the TV. My ears have got to be playing tricks on me because there’s no fucking way they just said Lulu’s name.

Scrambling to my feet, I rush over to the TV, eyes glued to it while I try to find out what the fuck I’m watching.

“Lucinda was seen this morning with one of the Omega Center staff members entering the building.”

“What the...” I whisper in horror as a clip of Lulu pops up on the screen. Her face is covered, looking away from the camera as they rush into the building and away from the press.

“With the charges against Pastor Don, it would be a shock if he wasn’t convicted on all counts."

Pastor Don? As in the creep who runs the church that Lulu’s parents go to?

“What the fuck is going on?” I breathe out in horror. With shaky hands, I pull up the search bar on my phone and type in Pastor Don’s name.

My stomach sinks as I skim all the article titles that pop up.

Pastor arrested for horrendous crimes.

Cult leader brought down by courageous victim, Lucinda Carter.

Crimes brought to light, unmasking the dark reality of the cult church life.

They go on and on.

Bile rises in my throat as I click on one of them, skimming the article.

“On August 24th, a young woman by the name of Lucinda Carter was picked up by local police at a neighbor's house. It was believed that Lucinda was being held in her home against her will. Her parents, Barbara and John Carter, have been arrested and are facing child endangerment charges."

“No,” I sob, my hand flying to my mouth as my whole world spins. I stumble back until I’m falling on my ass, hitting the ground hard. “No. No. No.”

This can’t be real. They’re lying. Not my Lulu. Not my best friend.

I sob, unable to keep reading the words on my phone. What the fuck is going on!?

“Siri, call Mom,” I croak out, unable to make my hands work.

The phone rings three times before Mom picks up. “Ally, sweetheart. How are you?”

“Tell me it isn’t true!” I demand, tears spilling down my cheeks as I watch the blurry TV screen.

“Ally, what's wrong?” Mom asks, voice sounding panicked.

“You tell me!” I shout. “You told me everything was okay. It’s not okay, Mom. What the fuck?!”

“Ally, you're worrying me,” she says, voice shaking.