Page 18 of Dedicated
Les made an exasperated noise but finally rolled over in my direction to squint at the screen. His eyes were bleary and shot with thin red threads. He needed more sleep, and he probably could have used about two gallons of water.
He rubbed a hand along his forehead, pinching the skin between his brows, then blinked at the photograph. “Shit. When did she take that?”
“Obviously while we were sleeping.”
Shockingly, Les grinned then. “We look very cozy.”
I stared at him, slack-jawed and uncomprehending of his complete lack of alarm. “You need to read it.”
“I am.” He reached out, lazily swiping the touchpad to scroll down, and flopped on his back as he pulled the laptop onto his bare chest to read the article. I continued to stare, feeling the heat behind my gaze magnified as I waited for the proper reaction, which was definitely not casual perusal.
“So?” He wet his lips and glanced over to the nightstand next to me, before ticking his chin to indicate the bottle of water sitting there. Unbelievable. I ignored him, my eyes widening with incredulity.
“So? So it’s not true. The blind items are annoying enough, but this is a straight-up lie. She’s saying that we’re a fucking couple.”
“Technically it’s not a lie, it’s supposition. She’s relating her experience as it happened and which, as far as I can read, is a perfect recounting, except she’s got it mixed up a little. I was the one—” He paused to check the screen before quoting, “—giving her ‘the greatest head of her life.’ Not you. Maybe I should call and ask them to correct that part. I deserve credit for that.” He huffed and leaned around me, grabbing the bottled water, then twisting the cap off and guzzling half of it.
My fists tightened at my sides, and I felt close to punching him. It wasn’t the first time. It was just like Les to blow this off. Something in my expression must have tipped him off to the hellfire blazing through me, because he sobered, capping the water, then rolling onto his side and pushing away the laptop. His gaze bored into me, patient if exhausted.
“Porter, this isn’t that big of a deal. Really. We just don’t do anything and it’ll die down. Anyone who knows us knows it isn’t true, trust me. And the fans… they know what a slut I am. They’ll never believe I’m in a relationship.” He let out a chuckle as if the mere concept was ridiculous.
“It’s not even about that. Bullshit like this overshadows the music. It’s why I don’t snort lines of coke off a girl’s tits or fuck a groupie with a mud shark, because I’m not in it for that. I’m in it to make good fucking music. Music that matters, not to be some flash-in-the-pan band more remembered for the stupid shit they do offstage than what they actually play.”
“Led Zeppelin is hardly flash-in-the-pan. And their music is legendary.” Les pushed up on his elbow, grinding the heel of his hand against one eye before raking dark strands of hair from his forehead and scrutinizing me. “I think you’re overreacting.”
“It’s calling attention to us for all the wrong reasons.”
“But itiscalling attention to us. All publicity is good publicity and all that bullshit. And this isn’t even bad publicity. She says a lot of nice things about you, too.”
I gave up, dropping heavily to the edge of the bed and staring at the far wall, my heart racing as I tried to figure out what kind of impact this story might have on our fans and beyond that, our sales. It was clear Les and I weren’t going to see eye to eye on this, so the best I could do was hope it blew over quickly.
Les reached around me again for his phone on the bedside table. When he thumbed the screen to life, he grimaced. “God, I’m getting blown up. There’s, like, fifty unread messages here.”
“See?” I folded my arms over my chest, vindicated.
He grunted and began scrolling through the messages, which reminded me I was supposed to call Levi back.
“Levi wants to talk.” I told him and sprawled on my back in the bed as I pulled up Levi’s contact info and hit Send. Les adjusted his legs to make more room for me while his fingers flew over his phone’s keypad.
“You’ve both seen it?” Levi answered. “Les with you?”
“Yes and yes. Can you fucking call them and tell them to take the article down or something?”
Levi laughed. “You know as well as I do they’re not going to do that. And besides, it’s already gone viral. Is it true?”
I actually pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it in disbelief for a second before replying, “Are you fucking kidding me? No, it’s not true. I mean the threesome happened, but Les and I aren’t together for fuck’s sake.”
Les shot me a dark glare. “Watch it, asshole. It’s not like I’m the Antichrist.”
“That’s not a slight aimed at you. Jesus.” Between the two of them, I was on the verge of losing it. This trip was supposed to be about composing a brilliant album, something good enough to pull us out of the slump from our last one. Now I was fielding questions about a relationship that didn’t exist and trying not to mortally insult my hungover bandmate.
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” Levi continued on quickly. He sounded almost… excited? “But can you make itlooktrue?”
“What? What the hell are you even talking about?” My blood pressure shot up quicker than mercury in July. I considered just hanging up, but Les leaned to pry the phone from my hand and put it on speaker as Levi continued: “…It’s not that hard, just play into it.”
Do you have a spirit animal?
Evan:What’s a spirit animal? Like a mascot or something?