Maybe by Amber L. Johnson Page B

the article. Ethan Ambrose, this is Growl at the Badger.” My friend’s fingers have been linked with mine, and when I introduce him, he lets go to shake everyone’s hands. Tyler notices, but although his reception of Ethan is icy, the photog pays him no attention. When you’ve been in the business as long as he has, you start to get used to it. He just slides his sandy hair to the side and adjusts his lens.
    I sit next to Carrie, aware of how exasperated she’s become with all this and how empty her eyes are when she looks at Shawn.
    “Hey.”
    She turns to look at me like she can’t believe anyone is acknowledging her. While I’d seen Hollis standing next to her at the first gig, I realize that I didn’t see them speak. Every time she’s been in the room, it’s like she’s invisible. The only time I’ve heard her talk is when she flipped out during the preinterview and almost took Shawn’s hand off.
    “Hey.” Her voice is soft and hesitant; untrusting as she looks away again. I want to ask her if she knows that when this band gets signed and goes on tour that she’ll be the one left behind. They won’t ask her to sell merch, and Shawn won’t be faithful. I’ve seen it too many times to count. I don’t know her, but I figure she deserves better than to be the girlfriend who follows Shawn around until he gets famous. At least first wives get money in a divorce. All Carrie will get to see will be all her hard work and devotion thrown away like garbage on the side of the road.
    Before I can speak, Hollis is in my ear, asking to talk with me in the hallway. Tyler has this look on his face when we pass by that clearly insinuates that shit’s going to hit the fan. I’m bracing myself for impact when Hollis leans against the wall and brushes her orange bangs from her eyes.
    “I don’t know what happened because he won’t talk about it. Whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t skew your article in any way. Mace really deserves this, and we’ve worked hard to get him some recognition that will help him see that he’s talented enough to do this. On his own, if that’s what needs to happen.” She’s picking at the chipped purple nail polish on her thumb. “The story should be about him.”
    “Listen . . .”
    “No, you listen. He slept, and he wrote, which is huge. I don’t know if it’s because of you or what other reason it may be. I’m not dumb. I told him to stay away from you, but he’s kind of an asshole, if you haven’t figured that out. But he’s a talented asshole who deserves to get signed and away from Austin so he stops dwelling in the past. So please. Write the story about him.”
    My voice is small. “I will.”
    “Good.” A smile starts, but she screws up her mouth instead and looks like she’s chewing on the inside of her lip. “Whatever it was? You look like you liked it.”
     
    Ethan gets a few good photos, and we stay for two more songs, but Hollis’ words are ringing in my ears and I just need to go. Shawn asks if we are going to be coming over to his place to play pool, but I decline because I need rest and time to think.
    My friend walks to the apartment with me, still holding hands between us as we go. “The singer is sexy as fuck.”
    I crane my neck to see a devious smile on his face. “That was his girlfriend sitting on the couch.”
    He knows it, and I know it, but to hear the truth spoken out loud seems to make it final. “We both know that won’t last if they leave this town.”
    The words are spinning in my head when Ethan leaves to get his rental and drive off. In fact, my thoughts are spinning so fast that when I step into the lobby and see Laura standing a foot away from me, it makes me feel like I’m about to have a heart attack.
    “How did it go?” She’s wringing her hands nervously, worry etched in her features.
    “It was fine. Ethan got pictures. Their rehearsal was good. Hollis told me to shut up and make the story about Tyler.”
    We’re in