As soon as we finish practice, Rush throws open the door, tosses Lauren over his shoulder like a caveman, and hustles out of the room.

“I don’t know what I expected,” Phoenix grumbles as she makes her way down the hall. She stops in the living room and awkwardly leans against the wall.

Jag takes a running sprint and throws himself over the back of his couch and grabs the remote. I start toward the door and she looks at me, panic crossing her face. She grabs my arm when I pass by her. “Don’t leave me here,” she whispers before shooting her eyes over toward Jag who is now flipping through Pornhub.

“He’s harmless,” I say with a smile.

“He hates me.”

“He hates most people.”

“Just… stay. Please, you’re the only one that’s not a complete dick.”

“Wow,” I laugh, “what a compliment.”

She huffs. “Please…”

“You know,” I lean against the wall, “Rush takes a lot of Cialis and Viagra and just drugs in general. It can take him hours to bust one.” Her lip snarls slightly and I find it pretty fucking adorable. A loud moan echoes from the TV across the living room followed be the smack of skin slapping skin.

“Get it, James. Get. It.” Jag cheers at the TV, and her grip on my arm tightens.

“Okay, okay.” I pull away from her hold and place my arm around her shoulder. “Come on… let’s get you away from the porn.”

I walk her toward the back of the house and open the door to the pool deck. The warm California sun heats my skin, and I pull my shades down as I lead her over to one of the lounges. “So…” I say when I take a seat.

“Yeah.”

There’s an awkward silence. “You started recording your songs yet?” I ask.

“No. Been practicing, working out some kinks with one of the bridges. I’m supposed to start recording next week.”

“Yeah.”

She walks to the edge of the pool and slips her sandals off before taking a seat on the concrete and sinking her legs under the water. She’s staring off into the nothing and I know that look–that look of what the fuck am I doing.

“Second guessing it all?” I say.

“Huh?” she asks without turning to face me.

“Second guessing fame?”

She shrugs.

“It’s not what you think, but, I guess you know that.”

“Henry’s famous, not me.”

“True, but it’s like a disease. It kinda spreads to all those people around you. I mean, come on… you’ve probably met most rock stars.” I scrub my hand over my jaw. “You know, actually, I didn’t even know he had kids.”

“He doesn’t.” She shakes her head. “I told you, he’s my mom’s husband.”

I can hear the disdain in her voice, and I’m not sure if that’s actually aimed at Henry, or her sperm donor. “Yeah, sorry…”

“It’s fine. So,” she turns to face me, “sounds like you’re not a fan of being famous.”

I shrug. “Depends on the day. I mean, I love the music. That high you get when you perform, the way the world just melts away… but the isolation. I hate that shit. Fame isolates you.”

“Never heard it put that way before.”

I sit up in the chair, leaning over my knees. “I mean, think about it, it makes you this– this thing that things separates you from everyone else. You’re not a real person anymore. People either love you or they hate you, you fart and the world knows about it. Hell, you can’t go anywhere and have peace and quiet. You go for a walk, people notice you. They ask you for a picture or an autograph, you’re grateful. But after a while you just want to be able to go get a bag of fucking Doritos. Just go someplace where you can walk and be left alone.”

“Yeah, peace and quiet,” she says. “I get that.”

But I don’t know if she really does. She will when fame gets to her, but right now, I don’t think she understands what a monster fame is, how it eats you up and spits you out. Then again, she’s already not “normal”. Hell, maybe she’ll be fine.

“Your brother,” she says, “he seems to eat it up.”

“Jag? Yeah, he eats it up.” He eats it up now, but I remember the first tour we did. He got nervous shits and threw up before every show. And the wear and tear, it got to him, and his way of dealing with it: drugs. Fame is not easy. That bitch will get you one way or the other, but I’m not going to ruin her dream like that. Maybe I should, but I’m not going to.

She pulls her legs out of the water and pushes to her feet. “I really asked Henry not to help me.”

“Why do you let that bother you so much?”

“Because, I feel like a liar.”

“Nah,” I say, lifting my shades up to really look at her, “just lucky. Not a liar.”

A soft smile shapes her lips. Shit, I just want to kiss her. Not fuck her, not grope her, just kiss her and make her feel like it’ll all be okay. I want her to be okay.

The door creaks open and I turn around just as Rush comes running out butt-ass naked, dick and balls flopping before he does a cannon ball into the pool. Water shoots up, splashing Phoenix.

Sighing, she walks past me and into the house. I hear her and Lauren bickering. Jag’s still shouting at Pornhub, and now Rush is backstroking across the pool.

“You know,” he says, “it feels good to let the sun shine down on your balls every once and a while.”

Shaking my head, I get up from the lounge and head back inside. My phone dings with a text from my mom: Is your brother okay? I can’t get in touch with him.

I walk past Jag and slap him in the back of the head. “Call Mom, dickfuck.”

“Hey,” he says.

“She’s worried about you.”

“Fine, fine.” He picks up his phone and that’s enough for me.

I walk to the front of his house and look out the window, watching as Phoenix climbs into her car. There is something about her that seems too familiar. Like something I’ve known, or maybe it’s just something I want to know. Whatever it is, it drives me a little crazy. And I’ll admit, it’s been ages since anything has driven me crazy.

Ages.