I don’t even have to tell him the truth, because the way his features harden tells me he’s already figured it out. “That’s what I thought.” The muscles in his face tense. “The fine print of our contract explicitly states that if you violated any of the rules, you wouldn’t receive a single penny. So, no, you will not be paid.” He slams his laptop shut. “Hope it was worth it.”
My throat prickles as I head for the door.
I came here with one purpose in mind, but in the end, I did the one thing I swore I’d never do.
I got too close to the sun.
And it burned me. Again.
“I thought you’d be stronger than this,” Chandler utters to my retreating back. “Clearly I was wrong.”
His words feel like a slap across the face.
That makes two of us.
CHAPTER 63
LENNON
I press the ignore button on my cell as I continue cramming things into my suitcase. I know Skylar wants to talk, but as much as I’d love to say goodbye to her and the others—aside from that bastard George—I can’t.
The only thing worse than being fired is the walk of shame that comes with it.
I’ve already lost my money. I’d like to at least hold on to a bit of my pride.
But then I think of how upset I’d be if the shoe was on the other foot and Skylar left without saying a word.
I don’t want her thinking our friendship didn’t mean anything to me, so I pick up my phone to text her.
I’m in the middle of typing out a message when the connecting door opens and Phoenix strolls inside, clutching his stomach.
“I just got my ass whooped by a fifteen-year-old in a waffle eating contest. Who knew someone so tiny could eat so much?”
Despite looking stuffed to the point of being uncomfortable, he’s smiling like he just won the lottery.
A sharp pang radiates my chest. I’m happy he’s building a relationship with his little sister.
Hopefully, it will be enough to deter him from going down that dark path again.
Groaning, he removes his sunglasses and baseball cap—otherwise known as his incognito props. Not that they work all that well.
It’s impossible not to notice Phoenix Walker.
I stuff a small pile of folded T-shirts into my suitcase. “Where’s Quinn now?”
Our last conversation was basically me implying that she was doing something wrong, and that’s not how I want to leave things with her.
He snorts out a laugh. “She’s still at the restaurant because Storm’s convinced he can beat her.”
In that case, maybe I’ll just write her a note.
“Want to go watch him get his ass handed to—” Confusion spreads across his face as his stare flicks between me and my suitcase. “Hold up. Why are you packing? We still have another show tonight.”
Not we.
I fold a pair of jeans. “You do. I don’t.”
That only makes him even more dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”
Brushing past him, I head to the bathroom so I can grab my toiletries. “I’m fired.”
Phoenix catches my arm. “Fired? For what? Why?”
There’s no point in keeping it from him since this affects him, too. “There are pictures of us.” I twist out of his grasp. “All over the internet.”
He follows me into the bathroom. “Pictures of us? What kinds of pictures?”
Opening the shower door, I collect my shampoo, body wash, and razor. “Someone took photos of us in the back lounge the other night…and then sent them to a bunch of online gossip blogs and news magazines. Chandler saw them and canned me.”
Although many things can ruffle Phoenix’s feathers, not much can shock him. This does, though, because he stumbles back like the rug was just pulled out from underneath him.
That makes two of us.
A homicidal look enters his eyes…and then he’s bolting out of my room in a cloud of rage.
Heart pounding, I chase after him. I do not want him beating up Chandler. Not only will it cause issues for him with the record label, his actions will also impact Storm and Memphis.
Chandler wasn’t the one in the wrong here. I was.
However, Phoenix bypasses Chandler’s room and goes to one farther down the hall.
Oh crap.
I’m trying to catch up to him when he kicks the door open.
“You motherfucker.”
Everything happens so fast it turns into a tornado of chaos.
Skylar, Chandler, and Memphis rush out of their rooms at the same time Storm and Quinn step out of the elevator.
There’s this bizarre moment where we all stop and look at one another…
Then we hear the sound of knuckles cracking against bone, followed by an agonizing howl.
We all race inside the room and my jaw hits the floor because Phoenix is beating the absolute crap out of George.
“You piece of shit.”
Hand around his throat, Phoenix continues utilizing George’s face as his personal piñata.
He stops abruptly, and for a moment, I think he’s going to let him go.
And he does…but only so he can send a sharp kick to George’s stomach.
Instinctively I take a step forward, but then come to my senses.
I thought George was a nice guy, and I truly felt sorry that I hurt him.
But what he did in the name of resentment went too far. The pictures he took of us are not only virtually pornographic and a complete invasion of privacy…they’re everywhere.
No matter how many takedowns, emails, or favors Skylar calls in, they’ll never truly go away because the internet is forever.
As of today, the entire world will only know me as the fat girl Phoenix Walker hooked up with.
It’s a stain I’ll never be able to get rid of.
One that’s going to follow me everywhere.
The anger brewing in the pit of my stomach rises and I clench my hands into fists. I’m tempted to get a few punches and kicks in myself, but Chandler gets between them, attempting to stop it. Or rather, stop Phoenix, because aside from the one punch he landed, George isn’t putting up much of a fight.
Chandler isn’t faring much better.
Exasperated, he looks at Storm and Memphis. “A little help here, guys.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Storm turns to Memphis. “Did you hear something?”
Memphis matches his stance. “Nope.”
Chandler eyes Skylar next. “Get security.”
Skylar taps her chin, pretending to think about it. “You know, I probably should.” Her nose wrinkles. “On second thought. Nah.”
Desperate, he glances at Quinn, who’s sitting in a chair on the other side of the room…eating what appears to be popcorn.
“Make yourself useful and call the front desk.”
Happily munching away, she fist-bumps the air. “Go, big bro. And don’t forget, if it bleeds, you can kill it!”
The four of us exchange a look then. Not because of Quinn’s words—although daunting—but because Phoenix is coming dangerously close to doing just that.
So much so, George no longer has a recognizable face.
Trepidation coils my insides. If this continues, he’ll no longer have a pulse.