Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88218 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
On his way past, Blake rubs my statue duck’s jewel-encrusted wings. “Hey, Bill.”
Unlike some people who will remain nameless, Blake understands why I love the gaudy duck so much.
Mason stands when we enter the room.
Blake puts his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot.”
“Ha, ha.” Mason moves toward him and hugs him. “How are you, man?”
“Good. Busy. Only got back to LA yesterday and woke up to find you guys splashed all over TMZ.”
“Shit, it’s there too?” I ask.
“We thought you were Harley,” Mason says. “Now he knows where I am, we know he’s going to try again.”
“Oh, for sure, he’s on his way here. I wanted to beat him to it.” Blake sits in the spot where I just tried to maul Mason on the couch.
Don’t think about that. There’s no big queer secret hanging over our heads. Nope. None. Not at all. Pretend it’s not there.
“Beat him?” Mason asks as he takes the seat next to Blake.
I sit in the armchair. At least this far away, I won’t be reaching for Mason.
Blake runs a hand through his blond hair. “I’m having second thoughts about this whole getting back together thing. I drunkenly agreed to it if all of us were on board, but then I remembered what it was really like going on tour and recording and learning all those horrible dance moves. Aren’t we past all that?”
“From what I understand, Harley wants us to evolve and do our own thing,” I say. “We make our own rules. Sing what we want. And the schedule will be light.”
Blake glances between us. “Can we believe him?”
It’s hard to trust people in this industry. Contracts are ironclad and usually go in a production company or label’s favor, but the alternative to signing is don’t be famous.
Back then, we wanted to do anything to get us to the top. We had no control. Now we do.
“I know his heart would be in the right place …” I say.
“Hand up if you’ve been screwed over by good intentions in this industry.” Mason throws his hand up.
“I want there to be a band again,” Blake says. “But I want us to get the kind of contract we all want. Be up-front about it.”
I’m surprised, but only because Blake has acting to fall back on. Mason and I don’t have that. “You really want to come back?”
“I’ve finished the last Coby Godspeed movie contracted, and I need something to fill my time before I get any more acting roles. I can only do it if it fits around my schedule, though. It would be for fun.”
“Sticking with the acting, huh?” Mason asks.
“Think so. There’s talk of more in the franchise, but I think they’re waiting on how this new one does first before they green-light it. I’m looking for kind of serious roles in between.”
I know he has a half-finished album floating around out there somewhere, but I have no idea what happened to it. “No plans to release your solo album?”
“Nah. You guys know I loved being part of Eleven, but I did it more for the fame than the music. All the glamor called to me. I don’t care if it’s acting or singing.”
“And how’s it working out for you?” I ask.
Blake thinks about that a little longer than he probably should. “I love it. Don’t get me wrong. But do you ever feel like it’s … empty?”
“Yes,” Mason and I both say at the same time.
“I thought there’d be more …” Blake can’t think of the word.
“Shine,” Mason and I say in unison again.
“Whoa,” Blake says and turns to Mason. “Stay with Denver for a few weeks and now you share one brain?”
We share one bed, does that count?
Mason locks eyes with me, and my face heats.
Blake’s gaze lands on Mason. “Are you really coming back?”
“I only came here to get away from all the paparazzi who found me after you guys visited.”
“Fuck. Sorry.”
Mason shrugs. “Maybe it was time anyway.” He looks at me. “Get things back on track. I keep flip-flopping over the Eleven thing, though.”
“So you two have kissed and made up, then?” Blake asks.
In many, many ways.
I stand. “Who wants a drink?”
Mason frowns because we only had the sober conversation two days ago. “It’s two in the afternoon.”
“Okay, I meant, like, coffee or soda. Calm your tits.”
“You guys haven’t changed at all,” Blake says.
There are ways we could argue we’ve changed a lot, but I won’t. “How do you mean?”
“You drinking. Mason glaring at you and telling you not to. You giving him attitude. I swear you two were always like a married couple.”
Blake could sense that shit?
“Whatever, dude.” Mason shoves him. “It’s not my fault some of us partied a lot harder than the rest of us.” He smirks my way.
I lift my chin. “I am an innocent and delicate flower. Ask the fans.” Both of them crack up at that. “It wasn’t that funny. Just for that, you fuckers can get your own drinks.” I throw myself back on the armchair.