Page 38 of The Only Thing That's Real
Squashing all the feelings I have no business having down deep, I nod my head and say, “Nice to meet you.”
After giving me a judgy head to toe once-over and not coming up with any immediate threat to her perfection, she says, “You too.”
Bitch.
I’m not supermodel material and wouldn’t want to be. I love the skin I’m in and a disapproving once-over from Arianna Maxwell isn’t going to change that.
Expecting them to walk away, I take my seat, opening my laptop again. I’m about to put my earbud in, when I feel Knox’s large body press against my chair. There’s only the thin piece of canvas between us. Frozen, I eavesdrop on their conversation, because for some reason I think he wants me to hear them. Otherwise, he would have distanced himself andArifrom me, instead he’s moved so close he’s touching me.
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Can’t an old friend come for a surprise visit?”
“Ari, we were never friends, and you know that.”
“Fine, can’t an old lover come for a surprise visit?”
“No. Not after all the bullshit you pulled with the tabloids.”
She laughs. “You can’t believe everything you read.”
“No, but I believe the words I heard coming out of your mouth when you were talking to the TMZ.”
Holy shit. This is juicy. And very off the record. Still, I’m human and clinging to every word.
“That was over a year ago. You aren’t still mad about that, are you?”
“Listen, I have a show in a few minutes and plans after. I don’t have time for whatever this is.”
“You can always change your plans,” she coos.
“Not these plans.”
“Well, Trevor said I could stay for the show.” As though on cue, a roadie places another director’s chair next to mine. “We can talk about everything after.”
He doesn’t reply, but I feel him grip my chair. His finger grazes my back, sending a jolt to my heart.
“Have a good show, baby,” she says.
The weight of his body disappears, and I immediately miss him.
Arianna smiles at me and then takes the chair left for her, scooting it ahead of mine. She’s positioned herself where the crowd can see her.
Calculated is what this woman is.
She’s up to something.
The reporter in me does a quick internet search of the latest news for Arianna Maxwell and what do you know? A younger face has just replaced her in the perfume campaign that’s been hers for years. Reports also say she’s had a falling out with her management team and has new representation. But what sticks out most is that nearly every article mentions she is the former girlfriend to Hollow Knocks lead singer, Knox McKinnon.
She’s floundering and trying to grasp at something that brought her attention. If she can attach herself to Knox again,she might find some of what she’s lost. She’s desperate and it shows.
I almost feel sorry for her.
Almost.
Curiosity now at bay, I ignore her, turning my attention on the crew as they prepare for the band to take the stage. They’re such a well-oiled machine. None of this would be possible without this team and this final tour must be difficult for many of them. Some have worked with the band for years and are feeling the emotions of everything coming to an end too. As exceptional as they are at their jobs, I know they’ll all find other work, but there are at least a hundred people, if not more, who are a part of this band family the Hollow Knocks have built over two decades. It says something about the integrity of the band that most of the crew have been around so long.
A few minutes later, the band takes their place on the stage currently covered in darkness. Fans scream, anticipating that first blast of noise. That first beat of the drum. The first shred of the guitar. The first hit of the drug that is Knox McKinnon’s voice. Sean hits the bass drum. The lights bring the stage to life and Knox is staring at the side of the stage. Only he isn’t looking at the supermodel. He’s looking atme.He wants to know that I see him. How could I not? He’s trapped me in time and space with the intensity of his gaze.
