One week later…
Another week went by, and even though I was dying to call Amelia and talk to her, I knew the situation called for more. I couldn’t simply call her and apologize, not when I’d literally ruined her life this time.
After dinner at my mom’s I went home and searched everything that has been in the media for the past half a year in regards to Allister Holdings, Knight Industries, and my relationship with Amelia. None of it was good. I wanted to personally sue every single tabloid and gossip article that printed something terrible about her. My neck burns just thinking about it. A few months ago, Amelia tried to speak out, to tell her side, but the perspective of the article was already swayed in support of me. Every word they printed was wrong, and for the hundredth time since I found this out, I wondered how I had been so oblivious. Who was the representative speaking for me? My family denied they had any contact, and it was suggested it was someone close to me. My eyes slide again to Marshall, who is sitting across the dressing room from me, keeping busy on his laptop. He’s just a temp. Granted, he’s been doing well, but it couldn’t be him, right?
“Mr. Knight, we’re ready for you,” one of the producers sticks her head into the dressing room.
“Thanks,” I give her a tight smile and stand from the seat.
“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this interview,” Marshall speaks right as I get to the door.
“The internal interview was supposed to stay between our companies. No matter the outcome, I never would have wanted Amelia hurt this way. I hurt her, and the gossip almost ruined her career. Even if she never forgives me, her business doesn’t deserve this,” I tell him, my tone almost glacial. If there is any way he was involved in the campaign against Amelia, hopefully this sets him straight in my feelings towards her.
“So are you trying to get her back?” He asks and I swear I hear his voice waver.
“I’ll be lucky if she even breathes in my direction again. Hopefully this will help her in even the smallest way,” I clip out the words before stepping into the hallway.
The same woman is waiting for me and leads me to where this particular evening show is recorded. Usually, they save their interviews for Hollywood stars, but I was able to sway them with my side of the story that has been missing from the tabloids.
“Zander Knight!” The host calls my name and I listen to the crowd cheer, surprisingly.
Walking, with a confidence I’m not feeling, I take the stage and sit in one of the large burgundy chairs.
“Zander, you’ve landed on more magazine covers lately than when your business first relaunched. What’s up with that?” He asks.
I smirk and launch into my story. The story of a man who messed up time and time again, and hurt the woman he loved. I take the blame, I fight for Amelia. I just hope it’s not too late. And lastly, I hope she sees this and she knows that I still love her more than my own life.
Buzz
Buzz
Buzz
I slide my hand into my pocket and silence my phone again. Since the interview, it has been ringing incessantly with calls and emails. Now that I’ve told my side of the story, everyone wants an interview or other exclusive. One Hollywood channel even wants to cover our future wedding. So far everything appears positive, I just need to make sure it stays this way. It’s almost evening here, but with the time difference I’m not sure when Amelia will see the story, or if she’ll even care to look. I can only hope Tabbi is paying attention. I’d rather have said all the things I did to Amelia’s face, but sometimes a grand gesture needs to be made. My head falls back on my shoulders and I twist my neck side to side, hoping to ease the tension that’s building. I need to get home and find the next flight to New Zealand. Unfortunately, with the holiday approaching, my schedule has been packed full. It’s going to take longer than I would prefer to get to my girl, if she’ll even see me.
“Oh my god, did Hailey tell you? They’re doing an underground show tonight. It’s a top secret. If you had a ticket to the LA show that was canceled, you’ll get a text with the location.”
“No way! I wanted to see The Kid’s concert so bad. I cried when it was canceled…”
A couple of the servers at the restaurant continue on behind me, while cleaning the table. If the tour is back in California, Amelia could be here. Once the investigation began, I lost all contacts and insider knowledge to Allister Holdings and Rosen Records, specifically access to Amelia’s schedule. I have no way of knowing if she is traveling with the tour, or not. The Bedroom Tour’s schedule is all over online and the social media pages of each performer. But if this concert isn’t scheduled, there is no way they could pull it off without Amelia.
“Excuse me,” I wave down my server and pay my bill. I need to find that location. I text Seraphina first. I know she, and few friends, originally had tickets.
ME: Hey Squirt, if you tell me where the concert is I won’t rat you out to mom that you’re going illegally.
I hold back a laugh as my sister types then deletes and types again. The three dots jump around over and over again until I finally get a response.
Squirt: Only because I like Amelia, and you need all the help you can get.
A laugh escapes me. A few people look my way, but I don’t care. With my phone gripped in my hand, I find a taxi.
“Where to this evening, Sir?”
Taking a roll of cash from my wallet I hand it to him, “Just keep driving around until I say otherwise.”
The man looks at me hesitantly in the rearview mirror, but finally he sighs and takes the cash. Money always talks. We drive around for almost two hours, I can tell the driver is getting antsy by the way he keeps shifting in his seat. I hand him another roll of cash and he takes it wordlessly.
Buzz
I glance at my phone.
Squirt: The YG.
“Yes!” I fist pump the air, “Sir, can you take me to Fifteenth and Park Place.”
The driver glances at me, a little startled, or thinking I’m crazy. There are only abandoned buildings in that area, and a few bars that are known for bar-fights and usually end in someone being arrested. Only a few know that YG stands for Yellow Garage. The one building at the end of the block that was known for underground raves and concerts when I was a teen. I’m glad to hear the tradition is going strong, and that no one has ruined it.
My knee bounces the entire drive and I had over another roll of cash to the driver when we get there, “Keep the change.”
Before he can say anything, I’m out of the car and striding down the road towards the abandoned building. From the outside it is easy to see the chipped, yellow paint along the cement wall facing the road. As I get closer, other bodies start to dodge out and run towards the building as well. A smile crosses my lips remembering back when York and I were here. Thinking of my ex best friend is like a clap of thunder in my chest. I know he’ll never forgive me. Even if we manage to co-exist with the business we already have jointly, our teenage dreams are officially dead and buried. It will be a miracle if York ever forgives me. It will be a second chance at life if I can manage to get Amelia to even speak to me. The interview is only a stepping stone. Amelia’s family has grown beyond York and me. She encompasses everyone she cares about, and everyone she shows loyalty to has given her some in return. The biggest hurdle will not only be giving my life to make Amelia happy, but also having those people in her life trust me again as well.
I pay at the front to get around not having the text everyone else got. The steel stairs lead everyone into the basement. I can feel the excitement in the air. There is already a vibration from a bass guitar on stage. The stage is lit up in neon and fire. It looks like a haunted, midnight circus. Its eerie, and also beautiful at the same time. I make my way as far off to the side of that stage as I can get, until I run into a very familiar looking security guard.
“Hey, Man,” I head nod at him, keeping my face hard and determined.
He looks at me, his brow raised, then recognition sets in, “You again.”
“I’m looking for Amelia,” I tell him and he shrugs. “Look, can you please just tell her I’m here. Please?”
The guy runs his eyes over me before shaking his head, “I’ll see what I can do.”
I watch as he walks away and another man takes up his position. Minutes tick by, but I refuse to move. Finally, the guy comes back and ushers me forward. The air in my lungs gets trapped and my heart squeezes. I follow him backstage blindly, my brain scrambling to think of what I need to say to her first. The small hallway opens to a single door. The security guard nods at me to go in before moving to stand to the side. I grab the handle and open the door, needing to see her.
“She’s not here,” Ocean Heart, America’s Princess, is standing in the room, clearly ready to take the stage judging by her gauzy black dress and sparkling pink lips.
My jaw clenches, “Here, or not in the U.S.?”
Her arms cross over her chest, her stance becomes protective, “I wouldn’t tell you either way. I’m just simply saying that for your own safety, you should leave.”
“I need to see her,” I can hear the pleading in my voice.
“You almost destroyed everything she worked so hard for on her own. Only Mia can decide if she wants to see you,” Ocean’s voice is frigid and I’ll give her kudos for having Amelia’s back. Even though she’s blocking me from my goal.
Ocean steps around me and gets to the door before I think again to ask, “Is she even in California?”
Ocean doesn’t answer, or spare me another glance. She disappears out the door. My eyes sting and the burning pain of loss settles in my chest again, quickly replacing the hope I had just a few minutes ago. With nothing left to gain tonight, I open the door and step out into the hallway to leave.
“You never deserved her,” Beckett’s voice echoes slightly in the hallway. I turn, and find him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, glaring. Our eyes hold, and the accusation in his glare is more than I can take. There is nothing I can say to refute that. I proved just how much I don’t deserve her to the entire world. Of all people I hate hearing it from, I hate it from Beckett the most. Knowing he’s been closest to her for months kills me.
“I know. But until I hear it from Amelia, I’m going to keep trying and apologizing,” I warn him. I won’t give up.
Without glancing back, I find my way back to the crowd. She isn’t here. If she was, she would have seen me, even if just to tell me how much she hates me. Which means she’s in New Zealand. I sigh and run my hand through my hair the minute I get out of the garage and into the fresh air. Next week is Christmas. I am piled on with meetings the rest of this week until the holiday. That is the soonest I could make it there. Unless she comes home to see York. Not that he would answer my call right now anyways. I don’t want to wait, but I’m going to have to. Knight Industries still depends on me. All I can hope for right now is that Amelia sees the interview. I need her to hear that I still love her. I’ll never stop.
