Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
"So you're saying I make a shit rockstar?"
"If the shoe fits." She shrugs, making me laugh.
"Stop poking through my shit and get your laptop set up, Éire." I set the bag on the table for her.
She shoots me an impish grin before making her way back to me. "Sorry. I couldn't resist. I'm unbearably nosy."
"I didn't notice," I say, deadpan.
She makes a face at me while unpacking her laptop, and then sobers, switching from sassy, carefree Ireland to business mode. The dichotomy is sexy as hell to me. I learn something fascinating in this moment. She throws everything she has into everything she does. If she's playing around, she plays hard. If she's working, she gives it everything she's got. She holds nothing in reserve, living each moment to its fullest.
When was the last time I did that?
Today, with her. But before that? I can't remember.
"What do you regret most about being part of the band, Crue?" she asks.
"Jesus." I blink, caught off guard by the question. "We're playing hardball right out of the gate, huh?"
"No. Well, maybe. I just think everyone tries to tell your story for you, but no one ever asks you for the real story. And the real story isn't as neat and tidy as we wish it had been for you guys." She gives me a sad smile. "It was hard on you. All of you."
"I don't regret it, Ireland," I say quietly. "Being part of Soul Obsession was life-changing for all of us. I love the band and the fans and the music and everything we accomplished. We helped define a generation. Not many get to say that. But I regret that we didn't know enough and didn't have the right people around us back then to help ensure the decisions being made were in our best interests. A lot of them weren't."
"If you could do one thing differently, what would you do?" She slips into her chair, her fingers flying across her laptop as she types.
I chuckle at the question. "Only one thing? Because I've got a whole fucking list, baby."
"Let's start with one," she suggests.
"Refuse to play the game."
She glances up at me, a question in her eyes.
"When we first started, we thought it was important to be on the covers of magazines and in the news," I explain. "Any press was good press. And for a while, it was good press. But it became negative fast. Everything we did was overanalyzed. Half the shit they wrote wasn't true, but we never corrected it. If I could do one thing differently, I wouldn't do that shit again. I wouldn't play that game. It wasn't worth the price."
"Is that why you guys walked away?" she asks. "Off the record this time."
"Partly. We were just fucking tired. We did it for seven years without a break, album after album, tour after tour. And in between all of that were the appearances and photoshoots and award shows and everything else. We had no lives and no privacy."
I think we all knew we were walking a tightrope, in danger of falling off the side. How many times did we see the same shit play out around us? Friends picked up the bottle to drown out the world and damn near drowned themselves instead.
When Jax started down that road, I was worried as fuck he wouldn't make it out. I was afraid I'd be attending his funeral. I never told him that, but I think he knows. I think he resented me for it for a long time, but we're good now. We talked through our shit in Vegas. If I had to do it over again, though, I'd walk away for the same reasons. He mattered more than any of this shit. We all did.
"I'm glad you guys got out," she whispers. "I mean, it was tough news to swallow when I was eleven and you broke my heart, but now that I know a little more about what you guys went through, I'm glad. Most of your old fans feel the same way, you know. We just want what's best for you guys. It feels a little like we grew up together in a weird way. We support you no matter what you do."
"I'm getting that," I murmur. I've heard the same sentiment from some of the other girls since we started the tour. They support us no matter what. That's what I've always loved about our fans. The screaming and chasing us and sneaking into our hotels and crazy shit drove us fucking nuts, but the normal fans? They were always bad ass.
She beams at me, turning back to her computer.
"So I broke your heart, huh?" I say after a moment, unable to resist teasing her since she let that tidbit slip.
"Yes." She looks up at me with wide eyes. "Are you kidding me? I cried for days when you guys announced that you were going on hiatus. Even my diary was sick of my crap that week, Crue."