Every single person in the studio turned to stare at me. Oh shit. I probably shouldn’t have said that here, but oh well. It was done now. Johnny’s mouth dropped open, and it was a full five seconds before he could speak. His eyes were sparkling though, like I’d just created a mega-holiday, just for him—Halloween, Christmas, and his birthday all rolled up into one shiny package of talk-show gold. “TV, huh? Good luck with that. But what about the band? What will you do once you’re a ‘successful’ actor?”
My mind flashed back to the numerous rejections and disappointments I’d had recently. Kellan’s voice rang in my ear: Not tonight, maybe tomorrow. Matt’s condemnation trickled through my mind: I can’t think of one thing that you actually do for the band. Even Johnny’s thoughts echoed through my head: You don’t belong here.
Just as I was contemplating how to tell the guys I might have to leave them one day if the show got big enough, Matt opened his mouth. “Don’t be stupid, Griffin. You can’t take an acting job right now. Call them back and tell them no.”
Anger ran up my spine, heating my skin and making every hair on my body stand on end. I was so sick and tired of him telling me what to do, holding me back. They all fucking held me back. Well, no more. I was making my own mark on the world, starting today.
Standing up, I ripped the mic off my clothes and dropped it onto the chair. “I quit. I quit this interview, I quit this band, I quit this life. You can all go to hell.” And with that, I walked off the set.
Chapter 11
Awesome Does What Awesome Needs to Do
My phone began buzzing before I was ten feet from the stage. I was so ticked, I wanted to ignore it, but I couldn’t; when I glanced at the screen, I saw it was Anna. Fucking hell. Even though I was fuming, a knot of dread started growing in my stomach. I should not have just done that on live TV. I should have held it in until I could talk to her first, like I knew she wanted me to. Shit, now I was going to have to tell her I lied. She was going to kill me.
“Hello?”
“What the hell did you just do…on national TV?” Her voice was strained and rough, like a volcano churning with molten lava, waiting to explode. On me. How the hell was I going to explain myself without her flying off the deep end? And how far off the deep end would she go? Fuck. This was supposed to be my moment…I needed her beside me.
Wading past people who were holding their hands up trying to stop me, I tried to deflect the rampage I felt coming with confident nonchalance. This is no big deal. “Relax, everything is fine. I don’t need this gig. I’ve got a TV thing in the bag. They want to start filming on Monday, so as soon as I get back, we’re grabbing the girls and heading to L.A.” Walking to the greenroom, I stepped inside and closed the door. I wanted to be alone when my wife erupted.
“L.A.? Is this another commercial?” she asked, clearly confused. Then she got angry. “Did you just quit the band to sell alcohol on TV?”
Closing my eyes, I decided it was time to tell her everything. She was already mad anyway, how much worse could it get? Please don’t let it get any worse. I need my chill wife right now. “Well…I actually didn’t film a commercial while I was there. It was more like a pilot…for a weekly show…which is great for us. You wouldn’t believe how much money hot shows pay their actors. This will make what the D-Bags paid me look like minimum wage.” It was only then that I wondered just what my salary was…I couldn’t remember what I’d agreed to in the contract. It hadn’t seemed important at the time.
“I don’t care about the money, Griffin!” she snapped. “The band…they’re family. You can’t just quit them!”
Her voice was superheated now; the volcano was spewing ash. Well, I had my own storm brewing inside me too. My gaze snapped to the television screen showing the stage. The guys were storming off it, while Johnny was standing at his desk, clearly asking them to stay and talk.
I scowled at the screen and let that dark fury take me over. “Yeah, they’re family…family that’s been jerking me around, Anna. They don’t listen to me, they don’t take me seriously, they never give me a chance. All they do is hold me back. Sometimes you have to get out from under your family’s wings to really fly.” Damn that was good, almost poetic. And the guys say I can’t write lyrics. Impressed with myself, I added, “Honestly, babe, I’ve been thinking about quitting the band for a while.” Maybe just as a wish, or a fleeting thought that never went anywhere, but yeah, I’d been contemplating it. And now that it was done, I felt great about it.
Anna’s breath was shaky, like she was hyperventilating, and I swear I could hear her heart thudding, even over the phone. She was having a panic attack, and there was nothing I could do about it. Except possibly make it worse. “Griff, I don’t think this is a good idea. Talk to the guys, tell them you were joking. Then when you get home, we’ll sit down and…discuss your options.”
Joking? She wanted me to tell them I was joking? Fuck that. This was the most serious I’d ever been in my entire life. And “discuss my options”? In other words, “you’re incompetent, so let me map out your life for you.” No, thank you. I might have gone about it the wrong way, but I was right about this. I felt it in my bones. “I need this, Anna, and I need you on board with it. You’re my wife.”
She took a long time to answer me, and when she did, there was an unmistakable note of pain in her voice. Fuck, I’d hurt her. “You said you filmed a whiskey commercial. You lied to me.”