Page 94 of Revel
“It’s not that simple, Taylan.” Adjusting his cuff links, he leans his shoulder into the doorframe, the same place Revel stood last night. “You’re under contract.”
“I’ve hired a lawyer, and with the amount of trouble you’re in, I think I’m okay.” I turn to face him, shrugging. “Did you know Hensley was seventeen the first time you met her?”
He swallows, his jaw clenching. He didn’t think I knew that, but it’s amazing the information my mom had on him but didn’t divulge until he admitted it publicly. Maybe she had been waiting for that final punch she needed.
“The worst part about this isn’t even your lies, or the way you destroyed your relationship with a very loyal and loving wife. It’s that you hold no regret for it. And I’m sad. You have no idea what it was like to grow up as Taylan Ash, the imageyoumolded and selfishly made me fit into. Do you have any idea how lost I felt inside? You took my childhood from me.”
He nods, the first indication of regret creasing his brow. He swallows, his voice shaky when he begins with, “For what it’s worth—”
“No.” I shake my head. “Your word isn’t worth anything.”
His frown deepens, his brow pinching together. And then he turns and leaves, walking out of the room without another word.
I break apart the moment the door closes, unable to keep my head above the water any longer. I wanted to find myself on this tour, so why does it feel like I lost a part of myself in the process, and my guilt for letting it happen the driving force behind the tears?
IT NEEDS TO BE DONE
TAYLAN
Four days after the concert, the judge orders Revel to rehab, issues a fifty-thousand-dollar fine and six months of probation.
The headline? Not quite as bad as I was expecting, but still not good.
ROCK STAR REVEL SLADE WAS SENTENCED TO TWO YEARS PROBATION FOR HIS ALTERCATION WITH FELLOW TOURING MUSICIAN, BRECKIN THOMAS.
Revel Slade pleaded no contest to the alleged fight that broke out at the One Vibe concert in Denver, Colorado. Though neither party has commented on why the fight started, fans in attendance said the fight broke out immediately after an incident with Taylan Ash, another musician on the tour—rumored to be dating Slade—and Thomas during the encore of the night. Thomas remains in a local hospital where his condition is unknown at this time. Based on the terms of his probation, Slade’s been warned that any incident where he’s caught doing drugs or alcohol, he will be in violation of his probation terms and land himself in state prison for three years. Slade has also been ordered to thirty days of rehabilitation for drug and alcohol abuse, seek anger management counseling, and perform 200 hours of community service.
I’ll tell you one thing, Revel got freaking lucky because if anyone else had done what he did, they would have landed themselves in jail and with a heavy lawsuit. Revel Slade? Slap on the hand, really. Promoters are going after Revved for loss of ticket sales and it’s a mess, but legally speaking, there’s no jail time for him, which is a miracle.
Breckin doesn’t press charges. For what reasons, I don’t know, nor do I care. I won’t be asking him why. Of course part of me wants to go to the hospital and ask why he would purposely cause so much hurt, the other part doesn’t care what his reasoning behind provoking Revel was.
While my heart begs to forgive Revel for everything, my head tells me otherwise. He’s destructive, and spiraled out of control, and the only way he’s going to see this the way he needs to, has to be without me. It’s a harsh reality to accept that not only am I not enough to save him, but I also need to remove myself completely.
Liz warns me he’s not in the best of moods, but given the amount of time I’ve spent around him these days, is he ever in an approachable mood?
Nope.
I find him that night still dressed in his black suit, the top few buttons undone and the tie lying on the ground near his foot. He’s on the patio of his hotel room with a bottle of vodka in one hand and a cigarette in another. Seriously? So much for rehab.
I watch him closely as I approach the balcony overlooking the city, darkness enveloping the city and his mind. I look at his fragile body, still so strong and muscular, but inside, he’s slowly dying without help. He needs to be sober. He needs away from everything and everyone. Including me.
Hot tears roll down my cheeks. Everything he has ever said to me slowly replays in my head—haunting, destroying, crippling me. He notices me, his bloodshot eyes snapping to mine. He tries to offer a weak smile, but he doesn’t have it in him.
“You need help, Rev,” I say, moving closer. I sit next to him on the concrete patio, my hand on his cheek. “Please do what the judge ordered. I’m begging you.”
Nodding, he leans into my touch, his hair messy from the cool afternoon air. “I know,” he cries, choking on his words. He knows what this is. He knows my intentions. He’s barely moving, barely breathing, waiting for me to say something else. This beautiful man, he’s so broken.
I stare at the ground trying to process everything, but I can’t think clearly, let alone say anything else. My eyes drift to the city, hoping for words of comfort for him, but nothing comes to mind.
Setting the bottle aside, Revel puts the cigarette out and then pulls me into him. He hugs me, kissing down the side of my face with wet lips. “Do you have any idea how hard it is knowing what you want, yet you can’t have it?”
I nod. “I definitely have an idea.”
His face gives nothing away, expressionless, like he’s attempting to turn off any emotion he has or didn’t want to have. Clearing his throat, his eyes move to mine. Breathing through his nose, his eyebrows draw together, his chin quivering. “I guess I can’t expect you to be waiting for me, can I?”
This is the worst pain I’ve ever felt. It’s so hard to believe there’s no other way around this. Liz was right. Revel can’t continue like this. It’s not healthy, and if he doesn’t get help, I know the outcome. I think about his question. Will I wait for him? Revel was never my rebound or retaliation against my dad, or even Breckin. No. He wasso muchmore than that, but in some ways, not enough. My words remain trapped inside my throat. When would I be me if I’m waiting for someone else to get their life together? Where’s my identity in that?
“Red.” My silence sparks Revel’s anger, his tone harsh and demanding. “Say something.”
