What the fuck, Todd?” I explode into my phone as I do my damndest not to hurl my computer across the room to shatter into a million pieces against the wall. “Have you seen this shit?”

Through the phone, I hear Todd, my manager, trying to placate me. “I know, Keith. And I’m sorry. I’m looking into it as quickly as I can.”

Quickly? I’m paying Todd a lot of money to make sure this isn’t something that needs to be handled quickly. In this particular matter, I’ve made it clear that this should never be an issue. “Todd, the headline is ‘Keith, who’s the girl?’” I fume as I keep reading. “Fans want to know who’s captured the heart of the rogue country star. Why would they even think there’s a girl? I’m not dating anyone. Everyone knows that.”

Todd sighs, and in my mind, I can see him now, sitting at his antique oak desk, the little vein in his left temple pulsing to his heartbeat. “That’s just it, man. Everyone knows you don’t date, and that’s . . . odd for a celebrity of your success. I tried to get you to do some image work . . . show up for a few awards shows with another star, but nooooo, you didn’t want to hear it. So people get curious.”

I’ve heard all of this before, but I hate being fake. There are too many wannabes and fake ass people in this business for my liking as it is. I refuse to be one too.

“Well, fuck everyone’s curiosity. My private life is my own. I sing songs, I make records, ones that have won some pretty sweet awards. I put on concerts, and we’ve done some damn good shows, I think. But that’s it, I’m not available for public comment on my private life. I don’t ask what they do with the life-sized posters I sign for them, and they don’t get to ask what I do in my home.”

Todd clicks into business mode, no longer trying to appease me, beginning the same conversation we’ve had over and over again for all the years we’ve worked together. I didn’t hire him because he’s a friend but because he knows the damn business. “Keith, there’s nothing to be ashamed of here. You went grocery shopping and bought supplies for your daughter. Maybe it’s time you tell the truth.”

I inhale deeply, counting to ten before I let it out, willing it to calm me. It’s maybe only slightly successful. “We’ve talked about this. No. Carsen is only twelve years old, and I want her to have as normal a childhood as she possibly can. If people know about her, she’ll get hounded nonstop. She’ll need a security detail to go to school, for Christ’s sake, and never be able to grow up on her own. Never mind the fact that people are going to do some simple math and figure out that I fathered a child when I was still in high school. That’ll start a whole other heap of questions, ones I don’t want to fucking go into. The public isn’t entitled to know about her, to have an opinion on what she’s wearing or how I’m raising her, or fucking bring up her mother. No.”

I can hear the resignation in Todd’s voice. We’ve had this argument too many times. “I know. And I understand. It’s gonna happen at some point, though. She can’t stay hidden forever.”

I chuckle darkly. “The hell she can’t. If Hannah fucking Montana could pull it off for years, so can I.”

Todd groans. “That was a fictional Disney show. And let’s face it, I doubt you want your daughter doing what Miley Cyrus is doing in the real world now.”

“I know it’s fictional, dumbass. But I’ll make sure Carsen has her fairytale Disney ending. She deserves that.”

“Fine, fine, I can see I’m getting nowhere with you,” Todd says, the exasperation with me obvious. His tone changes to one intended to be more placating. “Really, Keith . . . is Carsen okay after all of this?”

“Some bitch reporter made my little girl’s first period into an expose about how I’ve supposedly got some new fucktoy. Ten million people now know what brand of fucking maxi pads I bought for her!” I growl, pissed off. “How do you think Carsen is doing?”

I hear Todd gulp and have a little mercy on him. He’s kept my situation secret for nearly five years, a century in celebrity terms. “Sorry, man.”

I shake my head, sighing. “No, it’s okay. She’s doing fine, mostly. She didn’t realize that the feminine shit was what brought up the questions. Thinks it’s just the usual speculation.”

Todd hums, and I can hear the steel in his voice. He’s a damn good manager, a good man overall, really. “I’m gonna fix this. I’m not sure how, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Do your best. And do it fast, Todd.” I grunt as a goodbye before I hang up. As soon as I do, I realize Sarah, my older sister, is standing in the doorway and likely heard everything I just said.

Sarah’s leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her long brown hair hanging down nearly to her waist, the same color as mine if I didn’t keep my head shaved by choice. “Little rough on Todd there, weren’t you?”

I can see the disapproving look in her eye, reminding me so much of Mom. We both got our height and physique from her, although thankfully, I inherited Dad’s wide shoulders, or else I’d look like a ripped string bean.

“Not really,” I reply evenly. “It’s his job to handle things, to make sure nothing like this happens. But it did, so now he can fucking fix it. Fast.”

Sarah sighs, giving me an amused eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just call me? I could’ve gone to the store and there wouldn’t have been an issue. You know, if I go buy maxi pads, nobody gives a shit.”

I sigh, feeling trapped. On one hand, I know she’s right. On the other hand, every time I’d have to do it, I’d feel like the world’s shittiest father. It’s a no-win situation. “I know, Sarah. And you know how much I appreciate everything you do . . . for me and for Carsen. But I’m her dad, you know? She needed something, and it’s my job to provide it, so I went to the fucking grocery store. It shouldn’t have been a big deal.”

I plop to the couch, elbows on my spread knees and my head hung low. It’s been hard, raising a little girl without her mother, no help from her grandparents, and only my big sister to turn to. I can’t even ask more from Sarah. She’s a beautiful young woman with her own life to live. It’d be unfair for me to demand she be even more of a surrogate mother to Carsen. And no matter what . . . “I just didn’t want to be a failure of a father.”

Sarah sits beside me, putting an arm around my shoulder like she did when we were little and I had to turn to her for comfort in the bad times. “You take good care of her, Keith. No doubt to anyone who knows you two how much you love that little girl. She has everything she needs right here with you, but you don’t have to do it alone. I love that girl like she’s my own. Damn-near raised her right along with you, remember?”

I place my hand on hers, patting it. “Thanks, Sarah. I know you love her, and I don’t know what we’d have done without you all these years, but I hate that something that should be simple, like getting groceries, just isn’t anymore.” I sigh. “Hell, maybe I need a break. Just step away from the spotlight for a few years until Carsen gets older?”

Sarah shakes her head. “No chance in hell. You have worked your ass off to chase your dream, Keith. ‘All those years’ you’re talking about? I remember them too. I remember you working days at shitty job after shitty job before singing nights. I remember my working a full-time job and bringing Carsen to some seedy places to hear you sing when she was just a toddler. I remember you holding her to your chest with one hand, writing songs with the other while you hummed her to sleep at night.”

I smile slightly, remembering those nights too. “She couldn’t sleep as a baby unless I was holding her.”

“And she still loves you just as much,” Sarah reminds me. “So all that hard work? You made it, Keith. You got your dream, and you need to grab onto it with both hands and hang on tight for as long as the ride goes. Because you know what the rap god says.”

I nod. Sarah’s always been more into hip hop than I am, but I know the lyrics. “When the run’s over, just admit it’s at an end.”

“And in the meantime, get as much as you can out of it,” Sarah adds. “So yeah, it’s awkward right now, and the fact that something happened that is beyond your control is killing you . . .”

I try to interrupt to disagree, but she talks over me. “Please, Keith. You’re the biggest control freak I’ve ever met. And this hit you out of left field and you don’t like it. But suck it up, buttercup. It’ll blow over, and trust Todd to make sure it does. In the meantime, you know you’ve got a moment, maybe two or three. Hang onto them and give you and your daughter the rest of a life together afterward.”

I huff, knowing she’s right. “Fine. You’re right. As hard as I’ve worked to make a career singing, I’ll give it all up in a split second if it’s bad for Carsen though. You know that.”

Sarah smiles, reaching up and rubbing my head like she used to when we were kids. “Of course you would. But look around you, Keith. She’s fine, goes to a great school, has great friends, lives in a gorgeous house like nothing we could’ve ever imagined when we were kids, and is happy.”

I smile, looking around. You could probably fit our childhood home in just this room. Hell, this house has more bathrooms than we had rooms back then. We’ve definitely moved up in life since those days.

“Thanks, Sarah,” I finally say, leaning back and relaxing some. “You know how to make things sound right.”

She nods, and I’m struck by how far we’ve come, brother and sister against the world. Needing a lighter moment before those childhood memories take over my brain, I tease her a little. “You sound just like Mom.”

She grins, sticking her tongue out at me. “Well, thank you. I’m choosing to take that as the compliment I’m sure you intended it to be.”

I laugh, giving her a side hug. “Yeah, definitely a compliment, Sis.”