Cassius

Fourteen straight days in the studio.

I don’t want to think. I don’t want to do anything besides sink my teeth into the lyrics—even the ones I hate—because that’s better than giving into my thoughts. They are all bitter. Cold. Hard.

Gentle Evangeline isn’t so gentle after all.

That girl played me.

And I’m still mind fucked over what went down in her driveway.

Now, the album is done. Getting remastered. And I’m going on tour with Elle Camino tomorrow.

I’m fucking ready to get out of LA, to disappear on stage night after night.

Elle and I are in the studio together; we just listened to my entire album. It was a dream come true to have this girl from my hometown, who has come farther than anyone I know, sit beside me. She has legit chops, and I want to hear her opinion.

But it was also torture. I see every one of my flaws, and I know she’ll see them too.

“Sweetheart, that was off the charts!” Elle Camino gives me a fist bump, her braided hair swinging as she jumps around the studio. Her overalls, mesh tank, and Reeboks are a throwback, but this girl is so current. I want to learn to ride her creative wave in the music I create.

“I think track eight is the weakest,” I admit, needing to say something. What I want to do is scream that this album is not what I envisioned, and I am not what I envisioned, and at this point I don’t even care how it sounds.

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Elle says, plopping down on a stool and shaking her head.

I raise an eyebrow, not believing a word she says.

“I mean it, Cash. Track eight was one of my favorites on the entire album. It’s all so subjective. As an artist, you never know which thing is going to take off, which song will be your hit. That’s why you gotta try, take a risk, listen to the advice from KMG. They know what they’re doing. They’ve been doing it a lot longer than either of us.”

“Your latest album, you were sold on every track you laid?”

She snorts, picking up her iced latte. Her hundred bangle bracelets jangle as she moves. “Not even close. But I infused my heart and soul in it, just like you did, and that’s enough. We can’t have it every way; we can’t be given complete creative license by the label. Hell, if they gave that to me, I think my entire record would be me screaming about the girl who broke my heart. No one wants to listen to that shit.”

I laugh. Elle is straight up.

“I can’t imagine anyone breaking your heart,” I tell her.

“Yeah, well, now I have a new girlfriend, Sasha. She’ll be on tour with us, and she’s amazing, but—”

“But what?”

“But going on tour is hard enough. And I don’t want the stress of all of this to fuck up what she and I have.”

I nod.

“You have someone?” Elle asks. We’ve met a handful of times over the past few weeks, in meetings prepping us for the tour, and at a photo shoot, but we don’t know one another very well. “I mean, I know you used to be with Gina, back in the day. But she’s with Chad now?”

I forget that Elle knows about me from back home. I wonder how much she knows.

I nod again.

“Well, I know it isn’t my business,” she says, “but I’d rather have no one than two people who aren’t looking out for me. You sure they have your back?”

I give her a hard look, because I trust Elle with this shit. She’s walked this road, walked away from home, and she’s still standing.

“I know they don’t,” I tell her coolly.

“Then I think it’s time you broke free—before we leave on tour. This is your time, Cash. Yours.”

“You think it’s that easy?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Honey, nothing worth having is easy. But you need to get your head on straight, and those two aren’t gonna help you do that. You’re all messed up about the album, second-guessing your motives. Do you have anyone in your life you can actually talk this shit through with?”

Of course my mind goes straight to Evangeline. She’s the only person I’ve ever laid it all out for, and she didn’t seem to judge me once.

She saw me.

But that girl caved the moment her father came into the picture.

I can’t help but wonder, if she and I had had more than just one day, what we could have been … but that’s fucking stupid to think about. She goes to Julliard. She’s the princess of the KMG empire. She’s a piano prodigy.

And, fuck yeah, I know how talented she is. I’ve watched her play the piano from YouTube clips back from when she was twelve years old. I memorized the way her fingers glide across the keys—and shit, I know it’s crazy, but I couldn’t help it. That girl found a way into my heart, and the grip is fierce.

I’m not ready to let it go … even if she is.

I just need to get through this two-month tour, get a foothold in this business. Make a plan for myself, then I’ll come back for her.

“The thing is, Elle, cutting ties with them means I’m flying solo. I’ve never done that in my life.”

Elle looks wistful, her lips twisted just like my heart. “Maybe it’s time to see just how high you can fly on your own, Cash.”

I know she’s right. In my gut, I know.

But damn, it’s scary learning how to soar.