Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“Fair call,” he says. “But you know where to find us if you change your mind.”
Rock leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek, and not a second later, he’s replaced by Dylan, wrapping his arms around us. “Don’t be such a stranger, okay?”
“I’ll try,” I tell him, squeezing him right back. “And thanks. I wouldn’t have been able to get through that eulogy without you.”
“No problem, Rae. You know you’re like a sister to me.”
I give him a tight smile, and just like that, their security ushers the boys out of the church, and all I can do is watch Ezra stride past me, the agony in his eyes like nothing I’ve ever seen. It takes only a moment before the boys disappear into the crowd, and before I know it, Ezra is gone from my life once again.
“I hope everything was to your liking,” a gruff voice says beside me.
I glance up to find Lenny Davidson, the head of the boys’ label and presumably the man behind this big, outrageous funeral. “That’s a joke, right? Did you even know Axel at all? He would have hated every moment of this. It’s not at all what he would have wanted, but as usual, you’re too focused on the money it could have brought in and appeasing the millions of fans instead of giving him the send-off he truly would have wanted,” I say, having heard Axel’s complaints on more than one occasion. “Not to mention, your team couldn’t answer a single one of my phone calls to give me answers on how this actually happened, to the point my number was blocked. I had to learn everything online, and on top of that, when I emailed to request an invitation for a friend to accompany me so I didn’t have to face this alone, it was ignored. So no, not a single bit of this has been to my liking. Where are the people Ax and I grew up with? Where are our aunts and uncles, our cousins? Where’s the small hometown funeral by the lake? Where is the mention of him being buried with my mother?”
The tears come in faster, but I force myself to get these last few words out. “My brother is dead, and all I’m left with is a mountain of questions about how such a successful label could have failed him so badly. Where were his minders? Who was responsible for supplying his cocaine? Axel deserved so much better from his label,” I tell him. “Do better . . . because the way those boys are going, it’ll be one of them you’re burying next.”
And with that, I stride out of the church and walk away.
9
Ezra
2 YEARS LATER
Adeep scowl settles across my face as I stare at Lenny Davidson and the rest of the label executives across the massive table. They’re fucking kidding themselves if they think I’m going back on tour. When Axel died, so did every ounce of my passion for my music.
It means nothing without him.
Lenny stares back at me, doing everything he can to exert his power over me, and while it’s definitely worked in the past, I’m no longer down to play his bullshit games. “Enough is enough, Ezra,” he growls, his tone making both Rock and Dylan clamp up on either side of me. They’re sticklers for the rules . . . within reason, of course. “Now, you’ve made it more than clear how you feel about completing the tour, but the time for fucking around is over. I’ve given you the time to grieve, to seek therapy, and get yourself in the right mind frame. You’re completing the tour whether you like it or not.”
I get to my feet, slamming my fists against the massive table. “That’s fucking bullshit, and you know it.”
“What’s bullshit is that tickets for the remainder of the tour were sold over three years ago. You have millions of fans out there, and while we’ve held them off with the promise of postponing the tour, there’s only so long we can push it. They’re becoming restless, Ezra. Your time is up.”
“FUCK!”
I whip around, pacing up and down the length of the boardroom as I blow my cheeks out, willing myself to find just a fraction of control. My hands pulse into fists at my sides as I close my eyes, not daring to slow my pace.
“Come on, man,” Rock says. “Just hear them out. You know we were always best when we were out on tour.”
“Without Ax?” I demand, turning my glare on him. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You want to do this knowing that they’re going to replace him, knowing that every time you look across the fucking stage, there’s some imposter standing where he used to be?”
Rock stands, returning my glare tenfold. “And you want to have a fucking tantrum and let down all of our fans, knowing that this is what Ax would have wanted?”