Rise by Cassandra Robbins

 

 

 

 

RHYS

Present – Thirty-five years old

Paris, France

“Why?” she yells at me. Her long, wet hair sticks to her face. This is the moment I die and become reborn.

Her grief will heal; mine will fester and ooze its poison, growing stronger each day until my heart will not beat for her anymore.

She is, was, my anchor. My fucking lifeline to the real me.

I watch her beautiful face in the moonlight, her pale skin never looking more striking at this moment. She backs away from me, taking my soul with her.

Agonizing pain seizes my chest as I let her.

I don’t reach for her.

I don’t stop her.

“Granger?” Rafe’s voice brings me back to the large, private room at Hôtel Ritz Paris. Five suits sit with Rafe and the band. My eyes go back to staring out the window and the wet streets. Rain, always rain.

I clear my voice as I get my head back in the game. I’m not the same man who let her ride out of my life. It’s been years, and still a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about her, wondered if I’d see her in a crowd.

So seeing her laughing with some man was a bit of a surprise. I lost my shit on him. The thought that he’s been inside her… Fuck it, no one’s perfect. Least of all me.

I turn to the conference table. Cash is on his phone, Nuke is nodding off, and the only one who looks interested is Ammo.

I lean forward and reach for a pack of cigarettes, not caring that I’m invading a producer’s space.

A loud snore comes from Nuke’s mouth. His head bobs up and he straightens, blinking as if he’s confused about what’s happening.

Life has been tough for Nuke. He’s my brother. I tried to be there for him. He’s been in and out of rehab, and if his nodding off is any indication, I’d guess he’s using again.

I light my cigarette. It’s fucking amazing that we’re still together. Cash looks at Nuke and rolls his eyes. If any of us has completely pulled away, it’s Cash, but that was after the bomb was dropped. Meaning, I got the paternity test back and Cash was the father of Chase, not me.

Yeah, my life was destroyed, and he never once spoke up, never once said, “Hey, I was fucking Renee too.” I lost Gia over that shit. But I moved on and tried not to hold a grudge. Cash shows up and he’s a beast on the bass. As for everything else? We don’t talk about it.

Professionally, we’re thriving. Success seems to favor us, even when our personal lives tank.

The Stuffed Muffins rise no matter what. I turn again and lean my hand against the glass window. Paris, Fashion Week—I came here because I’ve gotten back with my on again, off again model girlfriend.

I’m trying to be supportive and show up when she walks the runway. I guess you could say Paulette’s the closest I’ve come to having a relationship in all these years. I’m thirty-five, our last album Untouched went platinum and stayed number one on the charts for months.

“Is there anything you want, Granger? This is going to be a major motion picture, a gritty look at the band, your pasts, and your future in the rock and roll world,” Stanley announces. He’s the bigwig at Weddington Studios.

I know I shouldn’t do it. I need to leave her alone. She’s successful and seems happy. But my heart still beats for her. Or maybe it’s just my cock that beats for her. Whatever, I can’t seem to find peace. I’m obsessed with a green-eyed goddess.

She’s my muse… Goddammit.

“Yeah, I do want something. I pick the DP and the photographer, or I walk,” I state, causing the whole room to stop what they’re doing and stare at me.

Someone clears their throat, and I grin at the stunned executives and Rafe who looks like he’s ready to lose it. He’s not stupid. He knows.

The execs glance around at the band. Ammo leans back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Who’d you have in mind, brother?” He smirks.

Stanley clears his throat and leans back in the leather chair. “The thing is, Granger, production has started. We have an award-winning DP, and he has his crew. As for the photographer, we thought we would hire a few to give the band that gritty look. You can’t be serious. We’re paying you a small fortune.” His eyes narrow and he reaches for a Fiji water.

I nod. “I’m dead serious. I have more money than anyone should. A movie about us does nothing for me. I can’t speak for my bandmates. They can do whatever they want, but I don’t allow the cameras near me unless you use who I want.” I put out my cigarette and move toward the door as Stanley stands.

“Who do you want?”

I smile and walk back over, pulling out a chair to drop into. “Gia Fontaine and Sebastian Knight.”

“You got to be shitting me?” Cash looks up from his phone and shakes his head.

Stanley leans back to look at me. “Unfortunately, Gia Fontaine has passed on our offer. We wanted her first. She said for the right price she’d consider selling some early pictures of the band, but to go on tour and be our visionary, she declined.”

“Well then, I’m not available.” I hold up my hands and look around the table, first at the suits who seem uncomfortable, and at Ammo who throws his head back and laughs.

“Fuck it.” He stands. “I’m with you, brother. He’s right. Gia Fontaine is the only one who truly knows this band, so make the magic happen.”

Stanley looks stunned and aggravated. “I… is this what you all want?” He looks at Rafe as if that’s gonna make me change my mind.

Cash stands. “Get Gia or I walk also.” He nods at me as he walks by.

I knock on the table. “There you have it. The Stuffed Muffins have spoken. Make it happen, Stanley.” All eyes turn to Nuke who still sits passed out.

I almost snort, but I’m not that dick anymore. I can’t point fingers. Nuke is dealing with things the way he does. I’m no better.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I do need to go watch my girlfriend walk the runway in thirty minutes. I leave you in the capable hands of Rafe.” I stand.

Stanley looks down at the papers in front of him as his assistant types on his phone and shows it to Stanley. “This is the Sebastian Knight you’re talking about?” He holds the phone out, and there’s the motherfucker’s face on IMDb.

“Yep, that’s him. An up-and-comer. You’ll love him. Very production friendly,” I say over my shoulder. “Go after him first. You get Sebastian, you’ll get Gia.”

Rafe stands as I pass. “Gentlemen, excuse me. I need a moment with the Rock God.” He walks next to me as I exit the room.

“What are you doing? Gia? And Sebastian Knight? He’s threatening a lawsuit against you.”

I look down the elegant hallway and back at him. “I’m sure he’ll drop the suit. We’re offering him a chance to go from a nobody to an actual DP. What time is it?” I smirk. “And if you’re worried about it, make him sign something.”

“Fuck you, Granger. Why now? After all these years you really want to put yourself and her through this?” he sneers. “You see her one time”—he holds up a finger—“for a few minutes, and you’re bribing her with her boyfriend?”

A couple of girls are giggling and watching us about ten feet away. I smile at them and wave. “We love you,” they say as they film me, then bolt down the hall.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Make it happen.” I start to walk.

“Just tell me why,” he calls after me.

“Because I’ve been dead inside, and spending that one moment with her”—I turn to look at him—“made me feel alive.”

Rafe shakes his head. “I don’t like this.”

I nod. “She’s my muse.”

“Shut up with that muse shit, Granger.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Fine, I’ll get it done. What about Axel?”

I laugh. “Axel loves us.” I start down the hall. “Make Gia an offer she can’t refuse.”

“And Paulette?” he yells.

“She’s not my muse,” I yell back into the large hallway, smiling as I hear him curse.