Page 53 of From Drummer to Gamer
“I’m glad you helped. He can be a bit cold at times, but he’s a great human.”
My eyes dashed to hers. I couldn’t help but say, “I know.”
He was a great human, that much was true, but he was also a heartless human.
Thankfully, the conversation shifted to bearable topics, although evading questions about my pre-med summer classes should earn me an Olympic medal at this point.
Katy Evans was a startling surprise.
She wasn’t anything like I’d expected.
Described by the media as a badass, no-nonsense manager who wouldn’t take no for an answer, Katy was renowned in Hollywood and was part of the elite circle.
I’d expected her to be colder and more straightforward, thinking our meeting today would be awkward due to our personality gap.
But I was proved wrong.
She was down to earth, nice, and kind—radiating with warmth and soul, rather than the soulless person the media characterized her. She did have her commanding boss-girl moments when she communicated with others or answered a random phone call, but when she did, the glow in her eyes vanished.
Somehow, as if it sucked something out of her.
Somehow, as if it was a persona she put on.
And it hit a bit too close to home.
I could see it like a transparent paper held under the sun.
It wasthatclear.
Because it was something I put on quite often.
The cloak of the perfect daughter.
Katy Evans was hiding.
Like me, she was hiding who she truly was.
“Sorry about that.” Katy slammed her phone on the table face down. “I get a lot more calls than I like.”
“That’s okay,” I said softly. “You must be busy.”
“Very.” She sighed, leaning back. “I can’t wait for you to meet the girls. They’re going to love you.”
“The girls?” I raised a brow.
“Evy—she’s Emmie’s girlfriend and Lily, Emmie’s sister. My best friends,” she explained with a genuine smile, one that sparkled her eyes like how the light caught the huge diamond on her finger.
I knew Lily was J.J., the band’s lead singer’s sister, but I had no clue who Emmie was.
Confused, I asked. “Emmie?”
“Ah, sorry.” She chuckled, waving a hand. “That’s how we call J.J. He has too many names. His name is Emerson…”
“Jayden Jameson,” I finished her sentence. I knew much more about the band than I should. And as far as I knew, J.J. didn’t have a girlfriend. He was the notorious, all-star face of the brand—wouldn’t him having a girlfriend be in the headlines?
More confused, I asked, “He has a girlfriend?”
“Yeah. They had a falling out.” A morose glint shined her eyes. “But they recently patched things up. We all grew up together in the same town actually. But the media doesn’t know, so it’s hush-hush at the moment.”
