Chapter 4

Anthony had spent his whole life at the center of attention. No one had ever brushed him off like that. He jabbed a finger at my back and shouted, "What's with her attitude?"

The stagehand who had spoken up scoffed. "What did you expect? Did any of you even ask about the cut on her hand? She was so terrified that she ran out without a jacket. Did any of you care that she might be freezing?"

Only when he pointed it out did they notice my thin stage clothes beneath the jacket the officer had lent me. The skin between my thumb and forefinger had split open and was oozing blood. A drummer's hands are everything.

The stagehand shot a sideways glance at Daisy, whom they'd bundled up from head to toe so she wouldn't catch a chill.

"Real interesting. You treat trash like treasure and your own family like dirt."

Anthony was so furious that he lunged at the stagehand, but Arthur held him back.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Enough! Knock it off! We're going back!"

* * *

Arthur felt restless, though he couldn't explain why. The way Irene had walked away without looking back sent a stab of panic through him.

It felt like something was slipping completely out of his control.

But he quickly pushed the feeling down.

After all, Irene was crazy about him. She couldn't leave the band. He would sweet-talk her tomorrow, and everything would be fine.

* * *

By the time I finished giving my statement at the station, the sun was up.

Exhausted, I trudged outside alone.

The four of them were waiting by the door.

Daisy got up the moment she saw me and took my hand, her voice soft. "Irene must be so shaken up. Let's get something to eat. My treat, to make it up to everyone."

Her smile was sweet and gracious, the practiced smile of a peacemaker smoothing everything over.

It was always like this.

They would ignore me without a second thought, then Daisy would swoop in to play the good guy and make me look like an immature burden.

Anthony ruffled her hair, clearly grateful. "You're the only one with any sense."

Arthur hesitated, his gaze lingering on me.

His lips parted as though he might finally ask whether I was hurt or say, "You had a rough night too."

Just then, Daisy tugged on his sleeve and tilted her face up with a smile. "Come on, come on. I know a café nearby with amazing coffee."

Arthur swallowed whatever he had been about to say. In the end, he just patted my shoulder and said flatly, "Let's go. Don't just stand there."

Whatever concern had almost surfaced never made it into words.

The four of them walked ahead, chatting excitedly about what to eat.

No one noticed that I had fallen far behind.

Daisy insisted on trying a trendy new sushi place.

As always, they took a four-top and had the server squeeze a fifth chair in at the end for me, half in the aisle.

Daisy blinked her big, innocent eyes. "Arthur is Irene's boyfriend. Shouldn't they sit together?"

"No way!"

The three of them answered in unison again.

"The aisle is where they bring the food out. It's dangerous. What if you get burned? You need your hands to play."

After Arthur said that, Susan pointed at me, half joking. "Irene's different. Look how fast she moves when she's drumming. If anything happens, she'll dodge it. No problem."

She said it breezily, like she was just trying to lighten the mood. She even winked at me.

The others laughed along, each quiet chuckle pricking me like a needle.

I put down my chopsticks, my voice flat and cold. "That's not funny."

Susan's smile froze. Then she muttered, "You're no fun. You can't even take a joke."

I pushed my bowl away and stood to leave as they stared at me.

Just then, a server came by with a tray of miso soup.

Startled when I stood up so abruptly, the server jerked aside and the tray tipped.

"Ah!"

Daisy let out a bloodcurdling scream and collapsed onto the booth seat, clutching the back of her hand.

Only a few drops of hot soup had actually splashed onto the back of her hand. They hadn't even left a red mark.

Daisy's eyes instantly filled with tears, but she bit her lip and said nothing.

She simply tugged on Arthur's sleeve, shook her head, and spoke in a tiny voice.

"It's okay, it's okay. It's not Irene's fault. I'm sure she didn't mean to burn my hand..."

The more gracious she acted, the darker Arthur's expression grew.

He shoved me so hard that I fell onto the greasy floor, my palm scraping across shards of broken china.

"Irene, I know you're jealous of Daisy, but this is just cruel!"

My brother joined in. "You're vicious! If Daisy can't play the keyboard after this, I'll break your legs!"

I sat on the floor, staring at the bloody cuts the broken china had left across my palm.

I was a drummer.

My palm was bleeding, and my own brother had just threatened to break my legs.

Arthur scooped Daisy up and rushed out.

The others ran after him, talking over one another about getting her to the hospital and buying the best burn cream.

They left me alone in the mess they had made, with the entire restaurant staring at me like I was a clown.

The server beside me looked baffled. "Are they crazy? It was only... a few drops. Is that really such a big deal? You're the one bleeding on the floor..."

Right. Is it really such a big deal?

To them, if Daisy got so much as a scratch, the sky was falling.

But me? They always assumed I was fine. Nothing to worry about.

I looked at the blood on my palm and suddenly laughed.