Revolt (Legends and Love)

I spend all morning in my studio downstairs. The guys pop in every now and again, usually with snacks and drinks and to check on me, but they don’t rush or bother me, and I find I like having someone worried about how I am at all times. After working through more lyrics, I look over the concepts I came up with for some of the videos and album artwork, selecting my favorites and sending them over to management for them to get started on. This is going to be a comeback, so I want everything to be perfect. I want this music everywhere.

I’m talking merch, videos with superstars you can’t help but love, and artwork you want on your walls. After, there will be interviews, venues, and a tour to sort out, and I can’t wait. I respond to Jack’s texts about some confirmations of artists, almost squealing in excitement, especially pop princess Falcon. I knew I wanted to work with her on one of the songs from the moment I started to write it. She just fits the style so perfectly, and she’s talented and capable of singing nearly everything. Unlike the boxes people put her in, she’s dabbled in country and folk as well as rock and pop, so I thought she would be down, not to mention that poor girl has gone through her own shit. We’ve trauma-bonded at some award shows.

I think this might be the best album I’ve ever written, and Jack agrees. We set dates to record, and I figure out a few more details before calling it a day. My brain is drained and I’m exhausted, but excitement still courses through me. This feels big, good, and I’m happy about it for the first time in years. I’m not doing it because I have to. I’m truly excited for the music and what it will bring.

This is just me and my music, and I hope the fans see that. They are already developing theories online about the songs and the album from teasers I dropped on my socials, and I love reading their commentary. Some even got close to a few of my ideas for songs, and some inspired new lyrics.

Putting my phone away, I head upstairs and get dressed. There will undoubtedly be paparazzi, but I genuinely just need to get out. I keep it simple with some loose ripped mom jeans and a cropped band T with a leather jacket. When I come downstairs, they are already waiting, and they help me into the car.

“Where to?” Dal asks.

“Le Establa, please.” I see him typing it in, and then we are off.

I slide my shades on as we head into the sun-soaked streets. Raff is in the front with Dal, Astro and Cillian in the back with me, but I avoid their eyes. I need some quiet time away from them to reestablish my boundaries. I can’t afford to be weak or soft right now, not when the vultures will be circling. During the drive, I rebuild my walls once more, and when we stop, I get out with that familiar, fake, cocky smile. I see them eyeing me worriedly, but I ignore their looks and stop to take pictures with fans who notice me. This isn’t a celeb restaurant. It’s a hole-in-the-wall, mom-and-pop place I found when I first came to the city, and I always come here when I need some home-cooked healing.

“Thank you so much, Reign,” a young girl says shyly.

“Of course,” I tell her as I sign her arm and take a picture with her. I take as many as I can before ducking inside and pushing my shades up on my head. Although the paparazzi know I come here, I make it random so they can’t follow me all the time to protect the owners as much as I can. They also have a policy in place to protect me, although it’s not something I asked for.

The tables are spread out, all mismatched, and chairs are missing. My booth in the back is free and I grin, waving at the familiar cooks in the kitchen before I sneak up on Mom where she is filling drinks. It’s not overly busy at this time, so I can get away with it without her telling me off too much.

Wrapping my arms around her from behind, I pop my head onto her shoulder. “Boo.”

She whirls around, smacking me. “Rey, you are naughty!” she snaps, and then she pulls back, glaring at me. “And too skinny. Have you not been eating?” Without waiting for a response, she grabs my hand and hauls me to my booth, pushing me down. “Pop, give me Rey’s order and sides! What do you want?” She looks at the guys, her eyes narrowed protectively.

“Rey’s here?” Pop calls, looking around the kitchen. I wave as he smiles at me.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” she scoffs. “What do you want?”

“They will have what I’m having. Mom, this is my new security, Raffiel, Astro, Cillian, and Dal.” I introduce each one, and they smile and shake her hand softly. Dal even kisses the back of it, and she practically swoons.

“Fine, I like them.” She turns her gaze to me. “You eat, then we’ll talk.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I nod, sitting upright. While she hurries to the kitchen, I giggle, watching Pop try to get around her to come see me, but she pushes him back in.

“Mom and Pop?” Cillian asks, his eyebrow raised.

I shrug. “It’s what they’ve always told me to call them.”

“How long have you been coming here?” Dal asks knowingly.

“A long time.” When they just stare, I sigh, looking out of the window. “They were the only people who cared,” I admit, looking around. “When I first came here, I couldn’t even afford a meal, so I ordered a drink. I was hungry and cold, and they offered me a slice of home. They fed me and looked after me, and every time I’ve come back since, they do the same. It never bothered them how famous I became. To them, I will always be that skinny girl practically living on the streets, trying to make it.”

I can see the questions in their eyes—after all, not a lot of people know about my past—but I smile and change the subject. “The food here is incredible though, all homemade and healing.”

Unlike normal people, they don’t bite.

“It smells amazing,” Astro says. “You lived on the streets?”

Sighing, I pick up the napkin and cover my lap, feeling four sets of eyes on me. “For a little while, when I first came here.”

“I didn’t know that,” Raffiel murmurs.

“Not many people do. I was a nobody then, trying to make it,” I reply. “I did what I had to do to survive. I hardly had any money, and I spent what I had on recordings and sending out my music. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. You kind of get used to it. I started working two jobs to pay for a tiny, shared apartment, and I was eventually noticed.”

“Wait, you were seventeen right when you started, right? So how old were you when you lived on the streets?” Astro questions.

I hesitate. I don’t often share my past and for a very good reason. I’m not ashamed of what I did to survive, but some people in the industry don’t understand, especially those who came from money and privilege.

“I just turned fifteen,” I admit.

I ignore their swearing and scan the diners to make sure no one is listening to sell my story. A lot of it isn’t public knowledge. I’m not ashamed, but my past is my past. Nobody else’s. I don’t want my pain dissected and reported on.

“What about your parents?” Raffiel snaps. “They didn’t care that their daughter was on the streets?”

I flinch. They aren’t a subject I like to talk about, but I know I’m not getting away with it. “Hard to care when they are dead.”

“You had no family?” Astro starts.

Sighing, I meet their eyes. “No, I had no one, okay? I lost everyone I loved, and that’s all I want to hear on it, alright? It’s my past for a reason. Yes, I lived on the streets. It wasn’t easy. Yes, it was scary and I was in some bad situations, but look where it got me.”

“You don’t have to be defensive,” Astro murmurs, and Cillian takes my hand. I want to snatch it away but he won’t let me, curling his fingers tighter around mine.

“We all have our pasts. We are just trying to understand,” he says softly. I ignore their eyes, not wanting to see their pity, but when I spare them a glance, they seem worried and angry, and there’s no pity in sight.

“So you’re going to rip my past open when I know nothing about you guys?” I ask, knowing I’m being defensive, but it’s true. They are learning everything about me, and I don’t even know their last names. I see the hit land, and Raff opens his mouth when Pop appears.

He walks back and forth, placing down drinks and food, and when the table is covered, he leans in and kisses my head. “Mom says to make sure you eat it all or you’re in big trouble.”

“I always am.” I grin up at him, watching his face soften.

“Glad to see you back, kid,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss my head again. “Now eat, all of you.”

When he leaves, I focus on filling my plate, knowing they are both watching me, and Mom is scary as hell. If she thinks I’m not eating properly, then who knows what that woman will do, so you damn well bet I’m eating, especially since it’s so fucking good.

I pile my plate high, and when I look up, I freeze. They haven’t moved and are watching me carefully.

“You can know everything. You only have to ask,” Dal says slowly. “About any of us. We won’t hide or lie about anything.”

“Look, it’s fine,” I start, but Astro leans in.

“He means it, beautiful. My full name is Astro Michael Vasileiou. I was born in Greece, and I lived there until my teens when we moved to the States for my dad’s job in the military. My mother is a chef, and I have two siblings, both younger. I joined the military right out of school and was eventually moved into these fuckers’ unit.”

“Stop—”

“My full name is Cillian Walsh, no middle name. You probably guessed, but my parents are Irish. I lived there for a few years, which I don’t remember, and then we moved. I joined the military after college and was put in their unit. No siblings, and I’m not close with my parents. They loved me, but they weren’t meant to be parents, and we haven’t spoken in a long time. These fuckers are my family.”

“Seriously,” I protest. “You don’t need to do this.”

“No, you’re right,” Raff murmurs. “We do. You should know who we are, who is protecting you and in your house.” It’s clear he wants to say more, but he can’t in case someone is listening.

“Dal means moon. I was born under a full moon. My mother raised me alone as a single parent. She died when I was nineteen. I didn’t have a good childhood, and that translated to being a bad adult. I found my place in Raff’s unit.”

I wonder what that means, but I don’t have the balls to ask. There’s something cold about Dal, something dark, and part of me recognizes it, even while part of me understands I probably don’t want to know. I’ve seen that look in people’s eyes before, usually from the streets and years of abuse and problems.

Without meaning to, I look at Raff.

“Raffiel Walker. I grew up in Australia, and I still have a house there. No family because I was an orphan. My family became my job. I loved being in the armed forces, but I wanted something else. I was searching until now. My favorite color is the color of your eyes.”

Cillian grins. “Oh shit, that was smooth.”

“You can ask us whatever you want, but know that opening up goes both ways, Reign. Now eat,” Raffiel orders, and unsure what to say to that, I start to eat.

“My favorite color is black,” I mutter.

“That’s not even a color,” Astro teases.

“Fine, what’s yours?” I smile, but I feel better now that I know some of their past, just like they knew I would. They always know what to say or how to fix something if they fuck up. It’s refreshing.

“Blue.” He grins widely. “Like the ocean.”

“Of course,” I mutter. “What’s yours, Dal?”

“Red, like blood.” He shrugs as my mouth gapes, but none of the others seem bothered. I keep eating, wondering what the hell happened to Dal to make him automatically say bloodred.

“Cillian?” I ask, looking away.

“Green.” He grins, making me smile back, and they finally start to eat. With the first bite, they groan.

“Shit, this is so good, maybe even better than my mom’s—don’t tell her that,” Astro mutters, covering his mouth as I giggle.

“I won’t.” I scoop up more noodles and chicken and devour the whole plate, going back for seconds. I always feel better when I eat here. Once the table is clear, Mom heads over.

“I will have dessert brought out.”

“Mom,” I whine, but she glares at me, and I shut my ass up.

“Now.” She sits and takes my hands, completely ignoring the guys. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Do not lie to me, young lady.” I snap my mouth shut as she stares at me, always seeing the truth. “I never liked that Tucker—”

“I know. He didn’t like cheesecake, and you said it was a sign.” I grin.

“Well, it’s true.” She huffs.

“I love cheesecake,” Astro remarks, and she grins at him before looking at me.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” she offers seriously.

“Nope, it’s fine,” I promise, patting her hand. “But thanks, Mom.”

“Always, my girl. I don’t know where you went, but we are glad to have you back, and if you ever disappear like that again, I will be very angry.” She stands. “I’ll bring extra cheesecake.”

I watch her go, and when she gets into the kitchen, I hear, “I like the pretty one with the curly hair. He likes cheesecake. Let’s set them up—”

“Oh god.” I groan, banging my head on the table.

“She likes me.” Astro grins proudly.

Save me now.

“I like cheesecake too,” Dal grumbles.

I’m just heading to the car, where paparazzi are taking pictures after being tipped off, when I hear my name shouted. The familiar tone makes me freeze. I can’t pretend I don’t hear it, so I turn and scan the crowd. Emerging from her own crowd, Sal steps forward.

She looks as perfect as always. Her long, tan legs are exposed in her tiny skirt, and her skinny body is on full display. Her blonde hair hangs in waves over one shoulder, and her makeup is perfectly applied. She looks every inch the flawless celebrity, even though one of her biggest claims to fame was being my bestie. Before that, she wanted to be an actor, and now she’s in films and she models and her name is everywhere.

It’s all thanks to me and the games she played to get there.

She hurries over, grinning like she is excited to see me. I see the cameras snapping pictures, and the guys move closer as if to block her.

Shit, maybe it wasn’t the fans that tipped them off to my presence, but her. It would be something she would do, wanting this on record either to use against me or for herself. There was a time when I never knew just how deep her twisted games and plans went, but that was before. I sidestep her half-hearted hug.

“Sal.” The door to the car is still open, and I want to dive inside, but I refuse to hide. I give her my fake smile, pretending I don’t give a shit, even as my heart rips open. How could someone I was so close to, who knew all my secrets, hopes, and dreams, turn into this? Was I really that blind, or has she changed that much?

No. I remind myself this was always hidden deep inside her. I was just too blind to notice. Her smile doesn’t falter. She’s a good actor, I’ll give her that. “I missed you.” She pouts. “I heard you were back. I can’t believe you haven’t called.” She lets out a fake laugh as the paparazzi move closer to capture us. After all, we were inseparable before I left.

I simply smile, and she clearly wasn’t expecting that.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back.” Leaning in like we are the only people present and they won’t hear every word, she drops her voice and says, “I hope you’ve been better with alcohol and drugs.”

This bitch.

“I never had an issue with them.” I smile. “That was more your field.”

Her smile turns brittle before she laughs.

“Can I get a picture?” a pap yells, and she turns to pose. “Reign!” he shouts. I take sick joy in posing for one as they ignore her. I guess she’s not as popular as she wants to be. When she turns those cynical eyes on me, I know whatever she’ll say next will be for the camera so she can get what she wants, just like always.

After all, she can’t stand it when she’s not the center of attention.

“I’m really sorry about what happened, Reign. You have to know that. I hope we can meet up and discuss Tucker and me.”

And there it is.

I always thought that when I saw her again and her legs weren’t wrapped around my fiancé, that I would smack that smug smile from her lips, but that wouldn’t be enough. I won’t make her a martyr. I won’t be the crazy ex she wants me to be.

“No hard feelings, you did me a favor.” I smile, even as I hear the chatter. “Now, I have to get going. You know how it is, places to be. Those acting classes must really be working. by the way. Brava.”

“So we’ll meet up?” she calls as I climb inside and shut the door in her face. I hold it together as we pull away, and then it hits me and I can’t breathe. Tears fill my eyes.

How could someone I love be so cold?

So heartless?

I’m a fool.

“Baby, breathe.” A hand rubs my back. “Shh, breathe, we’re here. You’re safe. They are gone. She’s gone. Let it all out.”

“Fuck!” I kick the seat, burying my face in my hands. “I thought I was fine. Shit, I should have known she would pull a stunt like that. I’m a fucking idiot.” I laugh bitterly, straightening and wiping my eyes. I thought I cried it all out, but I guess not. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I mutter, trying to fake it until I make it.

I can feel their eyes on me as I slide my shades on and wrap my arms around my stomach, breathing slowly to center myself as I stare out of the window.

“Who is she?” Raff asks. “We’ll make sure she never gets near you again.”

I laugh bitterly once more. “She won’t like that. Her name is Sal Warner. She was my best friend, my sister, until I found her fucking my fiancé in our apartment, and then she sold the story on it . . . or tried.”