Page 55 of Graves

“Oh! Or did you throw dishes at each other?” Fox asks, noticing all the glass on the floor.

“An accident,” I answer curtly, giving Leslie a serious look.

She pinches her red lips together and frowns—the face she makes when something is unpleasant. Then she whips out her phone, taps the screen a few times, and hands it to me.

“Here. They filmed you two getting into the same car. The night of the first concert.”

I feel Koh step closer and peer over my shoulder. I try to make sense of the dark video. It’s Fox’s black SUV and two shadowy figures getting in one after another.

“It’s way too dark. You can barely see anything,” I say, annoyed, handing the phone back.

“That’s not all.” She taps the screen again and gives it back. “This is from this afternoon.”

I look at the Instagram feed of a local gossip account. There’s a blurry photo of Koh with Pixie outside. He’s recognizable. The caption reads: Is this the new man in Aran Graves’ life?

“Those bastards,” I growl.

Koh snatches the phone from my hand, his mouth falling open. Yeah, that’s definitely panic spreading across his face.

“Kuso! What the fuck is this? I said I don’t want anything to do with this!”

“I’m sorry, Koh.” Leslie actually sounds genuine. “I already called them, but they refuse to take the post down.”

“It has over 10,000 likes! And the comments…”

When he starts scrolling through the comments, I take the phone away. “Don’t read that. It’s all bullshit.”

“You can try reporting the post, but it probably won’t do much.”

“This is such shit!” he curses louder than I expected.

The guy isn’t as quiet as I thought.

“Just ignore it,” Fox suggests. “It’ll blow over.”

“No!” Koh snaps at him. “I said from the beginning I don’t want any part of this. And now it’s exactly what happened!” He buries his face in his hands, his fingers digging into his temples as he circles the kitchen.

When he turns to me, pure anger replaces the helplessness in his face. He glares at me like he wants to tear me apart.

“This is all your fault!”

Without giving me a chance to respond, he storms off and disappears into his room.

I stand there stunned for a second, then quickly compose myself, set Leslie’s phone on the counter, and follow him.

He’s about to close the door behind Pixie when I push it open and step inside.

“How is this my fault?” I lash out. “You think I enjoy being in the media all the time? Every move I make is followed by these vultures. It’s worse than prison!”

He stares at me with wide eyes. Maybe I overreacted, but I hate this situation just as much as he does.

“If I could change it, I would, but I can’t work miracles. And I can’t change who I am.”

It’s a weak attempt to justify my outburst, but it seems to land at least partially.

Koh is still holding the doorknob. He pauses, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as he closes the door behind me.

I find myself back in the guest room. It doesn’t feel like the same room anymore. The sterile emptiness from before is gone, replaced by something I can’t name.