Page 200 of Silver Sweet

I’m about to change the subject when he does for me. “The call didn’t stress you out, did it?”

The call.Jeremy rang us up when we were in Anaheim. I didn’t delude myself into thinking it’d be “pop the champagne” kind of news. Nothing monumental like record-breaking streams or charting the Billboard Hot 100.

But it was amazing news in my book.

We have momentum in our sales. A positive upward trajectory. Jere thinks it could be from so many different factors: the viral video of Phoenix carrying the bloodied girl out of the pit, the ongoing speculation of Phoenix and me being a thing, my high-octane performances, or maybe even the music. It’s hard to pinpointonething.

Riot Records has taken notice, and they want a second album.Fast. Before the end of the year. “The sooner, the better,” Jeremy relayed. “They want to capitalize on the attention.”

And while it bums me out that we can’t just focus on the tour andSilver Sweet, I am beyond ecstatic that Riot sees enough potential in us that they want the next thing. There’s going to be anext thing.

I don’t want to fuck it up.

Don’t want to waste any time.

So I’m already planning to work on the album after shows, which means I can’t be yawning and about to pass out at 1 a.m.

I consulted the list of essentials to my life. Things I’m unwilling to sacrifice. Sleep isn’t on it.

Therefore, Adderall is necessary. At least until we finish album number two. This is temporary. It’s not forever.

I have a feeling Phoenix won’t agree with that, and his question still hangs in the air.The call didn’t stress you out, did it?

“I’m not stressed,” I answer him. “We can do it all.”

“No, you believe wemustdo it all,” he contends. “Like letting go of any aspect will deem us less than and not worthy of success. It’s not failure to say we need extra time.”

I exhale a long breath. “You know I’m a perfectionist to like the umpteenth degree. To the point where I was diagnosed with OCPD as a teenager.”

“You’ve told me, yeah,” he nods, listening intently.

I’ve explained to Phoenix that OCPD is a personality disorder, not an anxiety disorder like OCD. Totally different. In group projects, I want to take control because I can’t trust others to do it the right way.

And the right way is obviouslymyway.

I’ve been working on understanding that my way isn’t always the best way. It’s not easy for me to get there, but I’d like to think I’ve done well this year just collaborating with Phoenix.

“Lowering my standards and compromising has always been hard for me,” I tell him. “And maybe I am struggling to let go. But you can’t deny that the label has a point? Faster releases will keep us relevant. They’re handing us a roadmap to success, and I want to follow it. Especially since they’re just now starting to believe in us.”

Phoenix looks understanding. “We can try, man. I just don’t want you to run yourself in the ground over this.”

“I won’t,” I promise. “Is it stressing you out? Jere’s call about the second album?”

He lifts his shoulders and kneads his muscles against his neck. “Nothing Personal has written on tour, and it’s not the easiest thing in the world.”

Hewrote on tour, he means. He’s already done this before, but it was different, I guess. He wasn’t also playing onstage every night. Phoenix just assisted backstage.

As he winces and rolls his neck side to side, I unlatch the table between us and fold it flat against the wall. “I havesomething for you,” I say, sifting through my backpack at my feet.

Phoenix watches as I hide the item behind my back and stand up. Nearing him, I knock my legs against his knees, and he spreads his thighs open to let me step between them.

His brows furrow. “My birthday is?—”

“January first,” I cut in. “It’s practically imprinted on my cerebral cortex. When I’m a corpse, your birthday will be the first thing I remember as a ghost.”

“You said you were immortal.”

“Immortal, incorporeal. I’m really just going to haunt all planes of existence forever.”