Wright that Got Away (Wright)

She frowned. “You’re not feeling well? Are you sure you should be going?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. No worries.”

“Okayyy,” Honey said in disbelief. “You’ll be able to record in LA and get all the stuff with the band. We’ll have so much new content to work with. It’ll be good for the business. I’ll just miss having you around. It’ll be boring without you.”

“It’s not that long,” I said again. Then changed the subject. “So, let’s run through what we need to do this week before I head out.”

She nodded and flipped to a different document when the studio door crashed open. We both whipped around as Michael stormed out of the recording studio. We gaped at him, but he said not one word to us. Just barreled through the front door and was gone.

I jumped to my feet and dashed into the back. “What happened? Is Michael all right?”

Campbell had his hands balled into fists. Viv had her hand over her mouth. Santi’s jaw was dropped. Only Yorke looked the same, but that was probably because he always appeared somber.

“Are you all right?”

Campbell sank into the seat and tugged his guitar over his head. “Michael just quit.”

“What?” I gasped.

Viv nodded when I glanced up at her. “He just lost it.”

“It was my fault,” Santi said. He blew out harshly and then threw his drumsticks at the wall. “Fuck.”

“It’s not your fault,” Campbell said automatically. “You had no idea he would blow up like that by asking a simple question.”

“We knew he was unhappy,” Viv said.

Yorke nodded. “Yep.”

“But not enough to quit the band,” I insisted.

Campbell nodded at me. “Yeah, I never thought he’d be mad enough for that. He’s just…Michael.”

“He is always unhappy,” Viv agreed. “He’s always been that way. I had no idea he was at a tipping point.”

“Me either,” Santi said with a sigh. He ran a hand back through his hair. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Campbell said.

“Someone should talk to him,” I said.

“I can,” Campbell insisted.

Viv walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I love you, Campbell, but no. He won’t see reason with you about this. I’ll go and talk to him once he’s had a minute to calm down.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Santi asked. “What if it’s for real? We’re out a keys player. We only have half an album. Fuck.”

“It’ll be fine,” Campbell insisted. He looked like he was going to put his fist through the wall. “Why doesn’t everyone go get some lunch? Then, we can meet here later to discuss what we’re going to do.”

Everyone nodded and slowly filed out of the room. Honey wavered in the doorway with wide eyes, but I shooed her out.

“Hey you,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist.

He pulled me tight against him and kissed my hair. “Blaire, Blaire, Blaire, what have I done?”

“You can’t blame yourself for someone else’s decision.”

“I’d been so wrapped up in us that I didn’t see it.”

“Hey,” I said, tugging his head down to look at me. “You are not responsible for everyone’s feelings. He should have said something before this. He let it fester. It sounds like this will all just blow over, and you will be back to normal.”

“I hope so. I have no fucking clue what to do otherwise.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah.” He and rubbed his eyes. “This is so fucked.”

“We should go get some lunch.”

“I want to, but I need to call Bobby. I need to figure some shit out.”

I nodded. “All right. I’ll go and grab you something and bring it back.”

“That would be great.” A smile cracked the surface. “Thanks, Blaire.”

I kissed him again and then left him to the dreaded phone call. I couldn’t imagine Bobby Rogers was going to enjoy hearing about what had happened.

Weston stood at the door as I exited.

“Uh, how’s he doing?”

I tilted my head away from the door, and he followed me out of earshot. “He’s blaming himself.”

West stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. “I’ve had the pleasure of working with Michael the last month. And let me tell you, that guy does not know how good he has it.”

“They never figure it out until it’s too late.”

He shrugged. “I guess. I feel like I won the fucking lottery, just being in the same room as Campbell. Let alone the entire band.”

“Yeah, but he was there before Campbell. He’s hurting because he’s away from his family and lashing out.”

“True. I still think he’s angling for the grass is greener.” He looked far away, as if remembering all the tours he’d been on, playing backup and dealing with the shit from performers. “It’s not. It’s really, really not.”

“I hope he comes back.”

West nodded. “Me too.”

“Want to come grab some lunch? I’m bringing it back for Campbell.”