Lilac by B.B. Reid EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: B.B. Reid
- Language: English
- Genre: Rockstar Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.6 MB
- Price: Free
The news was reporting the same story.
No one would suspect the government had shut down, and parts of the
country were still suffering from last year’s hurricanes. There had been ten
mass shootings this month alone, but reports had taken a back seat for one
tragedy in particular.
Every channel and their avid audiences were tuned in to the death of
Calvin Everill.
After three months, there was nothing new to report, no suspicion of foul
play.
The rock star had simply overdosed on cocaine.
My gaze remained glued to the screen of the mounted TV across from me
while the smell of brine filled my nose. I couldn’t stop my leg from bouncing
or the umpteenth shift in the hard plastic chair. The receptionist who’d
greeted me when I arrived was oblivious to my distress as her desk phone
rang nonstop.
The offices of Savant Records were thirty floors up with the Los Angeles
sun shining through the windows and highlighting the modern industrial
space. More phones were ringing somewhere, accompanied by the clicking of
computer keys and the hurried footsteps of a low-level employee and
confident stride of an executive.
Everyone seemed to be in a frenzy today, which meant something big
must be happening while I awaited my fate.
I blamed myself for arriving late even though my sister had puked all
over my clothes, leaving me no choice but to borrow something from her
closet. Each choice had been more god-awful than the last.
With shaking hands, I smoothed down the dress I’d chosen, a corduroy
ankle-length tarp with wide shoulder straps. Since it was January, I’d paired
it with a white long-sleeve shirt. The only things I wore that were mine were
my thong, second-hand Docs, and the black choker around my neck with a
gold crescent moon hanging from the center.
No, this one was all on me.
I’d known going home before the most important meeting of my life was
irresponsible. It’s just that Amelia Fawn, nearly six hundred miles away, still
ruled me with an iron fist.
When the news story changed, my interest in what was airing became
very real. I couldn’t look away. Like the rest of the world, I was hoping for a
glimpse of them—Houston Morrow, Loren James, and Jericho Noble.
The remaining members of Bound.
Most celebrities would have tweeted how sad they were by now. In the
age of social media, you weren’t angry or grieving unless you posted about it
online. Our instincts dictated we run to strangers on the internet the moment
we experience pain, to tell the world how deeply gutted we are over the loss
of our loved ones—as if the multitude of absentminded apologies and offers
of prayers would actually mend the rip. Calvin Everill’s bandmates, on the
other hand, had no comment.
Not a single goddamn word.
And so the world forgot their grief for intrigue.
Just like that.
The once adoring fans’ favorite target of the three was Bound’s front man
and lead vocalist. The latest asinine theory was that Houston Morrow
murdered his guitarist.
Even I had to admit that it wasn’t entirely baseless.
Morrow and Everill had kept the voracious blogs busy for the past year
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