FALLING FOR THE DEVIL のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 26

I don't get fired.The label tries. Calls an emergency meeting. Demands my immediate termination.Lennon refuses.According to Claire, who fills me in later, he told them if I go, he goes. Cancels the rest of the tour. Voids his contract.They backed down.But there are consequences.New rules. No private meetings. No traveling alone together. Everything documented. Everything supervised.Basically I'm being treated like a teenager who can't be trusted."How long does this last?" I ask Claire."Until the Natalie story dies down. Could be weeks. Could be months.""Great.""Look at it this way. At least you still have a job."She's right. But it doesn't feel like a victory.The tour continues. Seattle. Portland again. Vancouver.Every city blurs together.Lennon and I barely speak. When we do it's always with witnesses. Always professional. Always painful.I catch him looking at me sometimes. During shows. During sound checks. When he thinks I'm not paying attention.But he never approa

Two weeks later we're back in Los Angeles.Third show here this tour. But this one is different.Lennon is debuting five new songs from the album tonight. Songs no one's heard yet.The past two weeks have been strange. He keeps his distance. Professional. Respectful.But I catch him watching me. Always watching.He goes to therapy twice a week. Never misses a session. Even when it means rescheduling interviews or appearances.Claire tells me the label is furious about the therapy. They think it makes him look weak.But he doesn't care."He's different," she says one afternoon. "More present. Less destructive.""Or he's just performing again.""Maybe. But it feels real this time."I want to believe her.Sound check runs long today. The band is nervous about the new material.But Lennon is calm. Focused. More centered than I've seen him in weeks."You ready for tonight?" I ask during a break.He looks surprised that I'm talking to him. We haven't had a real conversation in two weeks."A

The small gestures become a thing.Every morning there's coffee outside my hotel room door. Black. Two sugars.No note. No explanation. Just there.I never mention it. Neither does he.But every morning I smile when I open the door.Three days into it Maya calls."You're smiling," she says."I'm not.""You're literally smiling right now. I can hear it.""Shut up.""What happened?""Nothing. Small gestures. Like the therapist suggested.""What kind of small gestures?""Coffee. Every morning."She's quiet. "That's actually really sweet.""Don't make it weird.""I'm not making it weird. I'm saying coffee every morning is thoughtful. He remembered how you take it.""It's just coffee.""It's never just coffee."She's right. It's never just coffee.The tour moves on. Chicago. Detroit. Nashville.Every city a new hotel. Every morning coffee outside my door.And slowly other things.A playlist sent to my phone with no explanation. Just songs that somehow match exactly what I'm feeling that da