Part 20 (1/2)
”It's not a bad idea,” says Zach. ”Come on.”
”I'm not interested in playacting anymore.”
”Oh, so what?” says Logan. ”You really are a worthless junkie with no goals in life?”
”Not that we're judgmental or anything,” says Ben.
”Guys, hold up,” I say. ”Don't call each other names.”
Zach and Logan both look chastened.
”So am I about to get locked up again?” asks Ben. ”Back to curfews and no meals if I jeopardize a show?”
”You said that without someone riding you, you'd be better,” says Zach. ”You said the only reason you rebelled was because you felt so constrained.”
”So we got a manager who promised to respect our boundaries, and what do you do?” Logan chimes in.
”It wasn't the schedule and all that c.r.a.p that was restrictive,” says Ben. ”It's this stupid band. It's the lame good-guy image. It's the loads of BS we shovel at our fans every night.”
”It's not BS!” shouts Zach. ”You think you're so cool, partying and doing drugs and frying your brain and blowing your money? That's sad, okay? That's you acting like a teenager still.”
”Sorry to cut in,” says Aidan, ”but this is golden. Ben's right. There is a segment of the population that sees you guys as juvenile and fake and pure vanilla. Moments like this allow you to speak to them. Address these issues. So if I can sort of guide things here, why don't you guys talk about what you feel you can and can't do as members of Triple Cross.”
”We can't do anything,” says Ben. ”We have to just live in our gilded cages.”
”Pretty sure you got that phrase from a book or something,” says Zach. ”There's a difference between responsibility and being caged.”
”I can't be seen with a beer in my hand until I'm twenty-one,” says Ben. ”Even though it's legal here in Europe. I can't be seen with girls who dress 'immodestly' when that's how girls at our concerts dress. I can't be seen acting the least bit out of it or else rumors spread that I'm stoned.”
”No, I hear that,” says Zach. ”So let's talk about what we can do. We can do a lot of good. A lot of charity work. We can have great interaction with our fans, and we wouldn't be the first to have a kind of dress code.”
”Your mom's plan was to have us advertise for upscale alcohol brands and men's cologne and fas.h.i.+on,” says Ben.
”And what's wrong with that?”
”It's all fake.”
”Wait,” says Logan. ”What's that even mean? Is there someone who advertises men's cologne in a more 'genuine' manner? I mean, it's advertising...”
”I'd like to just live my life and not worry about my image all the time.”
I can't help it. I cut in again. ”Everyone has to worry about what other people will think. I get what you mean, but even regular people worry about gossip and stuff. Everyone's got some kind of image to maintain.”
”Not like ours,” says Ben.
I nod. ”True.”
”And you're one to talk about image.”
”Ben,” I say, ”enough.”
”Acting like you're too good for me.”
”She is too good for you,” says Zach.
”No,” I say, ”don't. Everyone calm down.”
”Kyra Armijo is a s.l.u.t,” shouts Ben. ”She's a s.k.a.n.k and a wh.o.r.e who screwed everything with a Y chromosome in Alb-”
In a flash, Zach is out of his chair and the two cousins. .h.i.t the carpet.
”Stop it!” I yell. ”Now! Break it up. Come on, break it up, guys!” I don't dare try to insert myself physically. Zach knees Ben in the stomach and Ben claps him on the ear. It looks like an almost playful gesture, but it's not. Ben's trying to damage Zach's hearing. This is for real.
The two roll until they hit the wall and Ben gets the upper hand. He pins Zach down and punches him in the nose hard enough that blood spurts.
I scream.
Logan looks like he's watching a horror movie.
”Ben! Stop it now,” I shout.
But I may as well be in a soundproof enclosure. Ben won't stop. He punches Zach again and again until Zach manages to shove him off and give as good as he's gotten. The first punch connects with Ben's eye.
It's only then that it hits me-Aidan's not intervening. I look up, incredulous, as he stands back and watches every moment ”How are you going to deal with this?” I ask. To the fighting cousins, I yell, ”Break it up! Both of you.” I lunge forward.
For a moment, I have my hand on Zach's shoulder and am reaching for Ben's chest. Then something solid connects with my cheek and the world goes black save for a starburst of light.
I COME to in a sterile hospital room, my head throbbing to the beat of my pulse.
”Kyra?” says a familiar voice.
I lift my head off my pillow and feel the room spin. I'm delirious, though. I could swear that the woman sitting beside my bed is Mrs. Wechsler. She has her graying blond hair cut in a bob that makes her jaw look even more severe and the usual makeup that's way too young for her face. It's like her crystal clear publicity vision only works on teens.
”Do you know where you are? What's your name?” she asks.
”Kyra Armijo,” I mutter. ”I a.s.sume I got taken to the hospital after either Zach or Ben punched me in the face.”
”Your father is on his way. He's still ten hours out or so, but he's coming.”
”Okay...”
”Listen, I just wanted to be here to let you know that you aren't to have any more contact with either of my sons.”
”Who are you to decide that?” I say. ”They've got a restraining order against you.”
”This is Switzerland. Different court system. It's got no effect here. I've been following the tour, watching it fall apart, and I hold you responsible.”
”Huh?”
Her smile is cold as ice. ”The band's broken up. Triple Cross is no more. You took one of the most successful music franchises in history and ran it into the ground. Congratulations.”