The prepared interview answers I’d gone over with the Foundation’s public relations team didn’t feel right. Monica and I had gone over this. There was nothing for me to hide about this.
“There is a personal connection for me. When I was growing up, I dealt with a lot of abuse from my father.” The lights felt like they were searing into my skin. Blistering hot under my collar. I rubbed my hands down my pant legs. “It was physical—and mental. And it took me a long time to come to terms with the impact it had on me as a person and as a man.” I licked my lips.
Glancing up, I saw Bay stepping further into the room, out of the shadows. Her shocked expression was even deeper than everyone else’s.
I smoothed my hands along my thighs, letting my fingers drag over the soft fabric, and took a deep breath when I wanted to switch to the heavy breaths like I was about to take on an opponent on the field. Drawing in another breath, I focused on the interviewer.
“It took a lot of time and a lot of mistakes over the years to come to terms with my childhood. I hurt a lot of people along the way as well, people who never deserved it and shouldn’t have been saddled with my baggage. If it weren’t for a few people in my life who have believed in me and helped me along the way, I wouldn’t have made it to where I am today.
“I don’t want any kid out there dealing with hardships to feel like they can’t talk about it or that they shouldn’t talk about it. And I want to do everything I can to help them get all the resources they need to have a healthy, happy life.”
The room was pin-drop silent. A few people who worked in the organization even exchanged looks. I’d never been so open about what I’d gone through, but the final step to moving forward had to be sharing my story to ease some of those feelings that crept up in me. The release was there, a freedom in not having to cling so tightly to my past. It was a past I’d only shared with a few people, but one that might help some other kid out there, or convince someone with a fatter wallet than mine to give them what they needed.
“I need other people out there to know there’s no shame in what they went through and they don’t have to struggle through it alone.”
Across from me, the interviewer recovered and snapped his jaw closed. “Thank you for sharing your story with us today.”
“Thank you for bringing light to the work being done by everyone—not just me—at the Headstrong Foundation.”
“Your work will change lives.”
I nodded, hoping he was right. Maybe it would give someone out there hope that they could find a life beyond their current situation, one where they didn’t have to carry the weight of so much fear, guilt and sadness with them all the time. I was still working on it myself. I cleared my throat, trying to punch through the tightness. “All we’re doing is giving kids the support and help they need and the tools to get out of the situations they’re stuck in.” My throat felt like it was on the verge of crushing itself.
“Thank you very much and to all the viewers out there. I’ve been told there are still a limited number of seats available. But by the time this airs, I imagine it’ll be even fewer once the announcement goes out that Bay will be performing.”
I zoned out for the rest of the interview, while he gave out all the details of the event, and focused on the woman in the corner.
The one signing autographs for people flooding the hallways in all directions.
The one I’d be beside for a photoshoot in the next room.
The one who kept peeking over at me.
After shaking hands with the interviewer, I stood and let them take off the mic equipment. The interview team left the room, but Bay was still inundated with more people than I’d seen in the two hours I’d been in the building.
Did she ever get more than a few minutes alone?
Gwen hovered outside of the light rig range. “We’re shooting the online promos right now.” She glanced to her side where Bay stood with her squad of people. “But we have a couple minutes. I’ll clear the hallway.” She extricated Bay from the crowd, shooing them all from the room before closing the door and taking off with Holden. Now Bay was inside on her own. And all the attention was focused on me.
The heat from the lights still set up at eye level for the seated interview didn’t heat my body nearly as much as being alone in the room with her did.
Crossing the space between us, she ducked beneath the lights and reflectors set up for the perfect shot.
“That was brave.” She stared at me with a hint of apprehension, like she wasn’t quite sure how I’d feel after such a public declaration.
A little worried, but lighter than ever.
“It wasn’t brave. It was the truth. I should never have been scared of the truth.”
“It takes a lot to be that open with people.”
“You get up on stage night after night, singing songs straight from your heart.” Songs about me.
“Sure, but I can pretend they’re from my imagination. Things the muse cooks up and leaves on my doorstep with a nice bow on top.” She offered a small smile.
“I’m sure they’ve helped someone. Just like I hope what I said today will help another kid out there just like me.”
“I’m sure it will. How could it not? You spoke from your heart. Gwen told me you just found out I’d be coming today. Sorry to spring—”
The door behind her swung open. I tensed, ready to block whoever barged in.
Gwen stood in the half open doorway. “We’re ready for you two.” She looked between us. “If you’re ready…”
Bay turned fully facing her. “Yes, of course. Are you ready?” Her gaze swept to mine.
“Yeah, let’s go.” With the ghost of a touch at the small of her back, we walked to the next room for an indeterminate amount of time for a photoshoot—together.
11
Bay
Keyton’s assistant lead us to the room for the photoshoot. His hand brushed against my back, lighting me up with an awareness and fluttery feelings, the kind I never got when working with another professional draped all over one another. But none of those other professionals had been him.
I needed to get myself together. No one had told me he’d be here today, not that I shouldn’t have expected to run into him at some point when performing for a foundation he’d created.
Somehow, I’d thought I’d be more prepared. I’d been thrown into countless rooms with three minutes of preparation and had to fly by the seat of my pants. This wasn’t any different. I’d keep repeating it in my head until the mantra took hold.
Not freaking likely.
His interview had caught me off guard. His honesty back at my hotel hadn’t been a one-time thing. Talking so nakedly about what he’d gone through growing up—once again, my heart ached for the scared little boy who’d grown into an angry teenager and then into the guy I’d met in California. Now he’d become the man I kept peering over at.
His jaw wasn’t clenched, and there were no stressed tendons in his neck.
He turned his head, eyes widening when he caught me staring at him. “Sorry for the short notice on this.”