The Sister Code (D.O.R.K #2) (3 page)

Chapter 3

August 3, 2015

I Hate
Spill!
Magazine

So it turns out I definitely should have told the interviewer from Spill! Magazine that Gio meant something to me. My denial of depth gave her the fuel she needed to paint me as a loose party girl. She somehow dug up pictures of me at a club and referred to me as Raven’s “wild” sister.

What the hell?

If anyone’s wild around here, it’s definitely Raven, not me. We went to a club together last night and she was grinding up against every eligible guy there. She supposedly has a boyfriend, although she won’t tell anybody who it is, but I doubt that’s going to last long at this rate. I guess they want to keep things on the down low because of the press since she isn’t telling anyone his name.

I don’t mind going to clubs with Raven—which is apparently going to happen a lot—but I do mind being painted as a party girl all the time. It’s just not who I am. I would like to have a real relationship one day, and when I do, I don’t want to have to work extra hard to win a guy’s trust because he thinks I’m a huge whore. Between the pool pictures and Gio and now this, I kind of want to swear off the media altogether, but of course I can’t. Now that I’ve stepped into the spotlight, I’m locked in for life.

It seems a conflict has begun: Raven and me vs. the media. Raven’s a powerhouse—she knows how to wrap these people around her little finger, but me? I could be the downfall of this whole operation.

I was not prepared to talk about Gio. I’ve been shoving that pain so far down I had almost forgotten it was there. Now I’m aching again over a guy who never saw me as anything more than a crush or someone to fool around with. That’s the real reason I broke up with him. I thought it was because of Raven at the time, but the truth is I was hurt because he called me his “crush” on the red carpet instead of something more committal.

Giovanni Abate could have any girl he wants. He probably has hundreds of crushes. He told everyone I was there on the red carpet because of a bet, not because we had been making out all summer and talking about our lives and shared love of video games. I thought I meant something to him, but that’s obviously not the case, so I think I was right to call it a summer fling. That’s what it was to him, after all.

Fuck what the rest of the world thinks. I am on this press tour for one reason only. I was promised by Jess she’d come forward with the truth and get rid of the Basket Baby label for good, and so far she’s stayed true to her word. If I can just make it throug
h
the rest of this week and the London trip without incident, I think everything will turn out all right.

Time to get out of bed and face another long day of interviews. Fingers crossed I don’t screw anything else up. We’re starting the day with brunch with Jess and Raven. I’m not sure if I’m more nervous for that or the interviews.

Ttyl,

Mads

***

The fine dining establishment Jess selected for brunch is beyond my wildest dreams. As we pass by table after table, my mouth waters with the sights and smells of what we’re about to be served. Fresh fruit, omelets, muffins…it’s almost too much to handle when you wait until ten-thirty a.m. to eat and then you have to be tortured by all this food while you wait.

Dad and I automatically pull out chairs next to each other when the dressed-to-the-nines waiter brings us to a table, but then Jess holds up a hand to stop us.

“I thought perhaps I could sit alone with Madison today if that’s all right with you, Michael. You and Cassidy can take this time to get to know Raven.”

I glance over at Dad, who swallows and shrugs, giving me the reins of this decision. Heart racing, I clear my throat. “I dunno—”

“Oh, come now. I don’t bite.” Jess chuckles stiffly, her smile dying in her eyes when she sees my apprehension.

After one more fruitless pleading glance in Dad’s direction, I reluctantly nod and follow Jess to another table, dreading the assuredly awkward hour of conversation to come.

The waiter comes to the table a few minutes later. Jess orders hot tea and I ask for orange juice. After the waiter leaves, I fumble with my napkin on the table, trying to leave the silverware arrangement intact as I transfer the napkin to my lap. When Jess clears her throat, I glance up at her and a sharp steak knife falls in my lap, narrowly avoiding slicing my hand open. Both of us startle and suck in strangled gasps.

“Oh goodness, darling, are you all right?” Jess immediately jumps up from her place at the table and rushes around to check on me, sitting on her heels.

My hand shakes a little as I lift the knife back up to its place on the table and flash her a weak smile. “Fine, thanks. Just missed me.”

Jess blows out a sharp sigh of relief. “My, that was a bit traumatic, wasn’t it?” Her trademark chuckle bubbles up from her throat. It’s that typical refined movie star laugh that sounds melodious and narcissistic all at once.

My jaw tightens. “Yeah,
that’s
the most traumatic thing that’s ever happened to me,” I spit with bitter sarcasm.

Her radiant smile dims. She pushes down on the table as she stands to her feet and slinks back over to her seat. Not long after she’s settled, the waiter returns with our drinks, and we tell him we need a little more time to decide on our food orders. As we mull over our menus, Jess taps her finger nervously on the table, making the silverware ring ever so slightly.

I never thought I’d have the power to make Jessica Charity Redinger nervous. Right now, she’s trembling in my presence instead of the other way around. Life never ceases to amaze me with its irony.

Jess shifts uncomfortably and finally breaks the silence. “Look, Madison, I…I know this is still hard. I know you haven’t forgiven me, and I don’t expect you to, but I brought you over here because I want to help you.”

I meet her gaze and find concern etched into her features.

“The press has clearly already selected you as a target,” Jess continues. “I know that is partially my fault. If you’ll permit me, I’d like to help you navigate the rest of this press tour. There are certain ways to ensure that nothing you want kept secret gets out and they say exactly what you want them to say. For your own safety and well-being, I think you’d be wise to let me guide you through this…although I understand, of course, if you still don’t trust me.”

Her gaze drops to the filigreed silver spoon in her tea. Jess looks vulnerable, almost shy in this moment. I don’t know if this is an act or if she’s serious, but right now I don’t care. Jessica “Jacie” Redinger, the queen of positive press, just offered to help me deal with the media. It’s an offer I can’t refuse.

“I don’t trust you,” I state calmly. She doesn’t even flinch or look up. “But I’m in. I need all the help I can get.”

Jess makes eye contact with a gentle smile tugging at her lips. Throughout the rest of our brunch, Jess educates me on handling interviews and paparazzi and I hang on her every word, hungry for information on this new food chain I’ve joined.

One thing she says especially sticks out to me:

“You are not under oath in these interviews. They don’t have a right to your deepest thoughts and feelings. If they ask something too personal, don’t give them your truest answer. Perhaps a couple steps up from that, but what you feel in your core belongs to you and you alone.”

Normally I’d flinch at someone telling me to lie, but that was her way of setting me free. I’m definitely taking this to heart, especially since another big name is about to welcome us into their lair in T-minus sixty minutes.

***

Our next interview is a family affair. The magazine wants shots of Dad, Jess, Raven, and me all together. The photo shoot goes well, but then we all sit down in a room to be interrogated again and my palms grow damp. Jess purposely takes a seat next to me and offers me her hand for support. I stare down at it, fighting an inner battle.

Am I ready to hold her hand yet?
Part of me wants to shake my head and refuse her, but the other part is scared of the stern woman with red-rimmed glasses sitting across from us who has her eyes fixated on me. I wipe my hand on my skirt to dry it, and then for the first time in my life, I reach out and take my mother’s hand for support. I’m surprised at how bony her hands are and suddenly realize she’s even thinner than me. The bones in her face are very prominent.

Dad shoots me a quizzical look from across the room. I mouth “later” and turn my attention toward the interviewer again.

The interviewer takes a lot of time in the beginning to talk to Dad and Jess, clarifying the story they were told. She appears shocked at Jess’s in-person confession that yes, she did abandon me and then kidnap me. I watch Jess as she rebounds all the questions with poise, being honest but somehow managing to paint the current situation in a positive light.

“My past isn’t something I’m proud of,” Jess admits, “but people change and grow as they mature. I’d like to think that’s what I’ve done, although it remains to be seen what my relationship with my youngest daughter will be like.”

Youngest?
I glance at Jess with a question in my eyes. She nods and smiles. Apparently, I was the second born out of the twins. I wonder if that’s why she selected me to go live with my father…

That morbid train of thought is interrupted when the interviewer calls me to attention.

“Madison, how do you think your relationship with your mother will be now that things are out in the open?”

Gulp. That was another doozy of a question.

Jess squeezes my hand in support. As I stare at our hands intertwined between our leather armrests, I hear her words from our brunch in my head.

“Don’t give them your truest answer. Perhaps a couple steps up from that, but what you feel in your core belongs to you and you alone.”

In my core, I have no idea how I really feel about myself and Jess. She’s basically a stranger to me. I don’t even know what we have in common or if I’ll ever forgive her for what she did. However, I don’t think this person whom I know even less than Jess deserves that information.

I clear my throat and smile at the woman as I respond. “There’s still a lot to be worked through, but I think we’re on the right track.”

That was a few levels up from the truth on the “lie” ladder, but it was a fair response. Jess nods in approval, smiling at me as the interview goes on.

That question is followed by a bunch of easy ones about my childhood and what it was like to grow up as the Grim Weeper’s daughter. I release Jess’s hand as I tell the story of the hay-surfing incident that ended with my crooked jaw. The interviewer actually laughs at my story. When I tell her Dad was cheering me on as I did it, she doesn’t seem surprised, and the conversation turns to Dad’s wild antics while he was at the top of his career. I never knew he bungee-jumped off a skyscraper before now, but it seems that was his style back in his twenties.

The three of us talk and laugh while Raven sits back in her chair with a fake smile glued onto her face. Most people probably think she’s enjoying the conversation as much as we are, but I can tell she’s second-guessing her decision to share the spotlight with me. After a while, I subtly include her in the conversation and the interviewer turns her way to discuss her feelings about the situation. Raven lights up the room with her natural poise and charisma. As I watch her, I can’t help but think she’d be a pleasure to hang around if she wasn’t so insufferable at times. Maybe we both have something to contribute to each other. Only time will tell.

Chapter 4

August 5, 2015

Almost Done

I am so ready to be done with this part of our summer trip. So ready to fly across the ocean for the first time and see the Old World. I would have loved exploring New York City if it weren’t for the photographers that seem to magically pop up out of nowhere every time I finally start to enjoy myself.

Raven and I went to the same club last night where I met my mysterious “first fan”—the guy who called me gorgeous and said I could bump into him anytime. I looked for him behind the bar, but it must have been his night off, because he was nowhere to be found. I have to admit, I was pretty disappointed. Those green eyes of his and that dragon tattoo haunt my dreams. They’re the first things that have helped me forget Gio, so I’m clinging to them for dear life.

Sadly, I don’t think I’ll ever see him again. We’re leaving the day after tomorrow. I guess it’s one of those experiences I can write about but never have again.

On a happier note, all my interviews have gone well since Jess started helping me get through them. She gave me some phenomenal tips on dodging invasive questions and keeping my composure during interviews. Jess keeps telling me I have just as much control over what is said as the interviewer, and that I shouldn’t let them bully me into answering any questions I don’t want to answer. I may not be on the best of terms with my favorite-actress-turned-mother, but I have to admit, she saved me this week in more ways than one. I at least owe her my best behavior while we’re in London meeting her family this month.

Tomorrow we have one more photo shoot and then we’re going to the top of the Empire State Building, which is something Dad insisted is a must-see before we take off for London. It will be a nice way to unwind and leave New York on a good note. I can hardly wait.

Ttyl,

Mads

***

I scan the peppering of lights and feel a surge of disbelief. I’m actually here, standing at the top of the Empire State Building with Dad, Cass, Jess, Raven, and our bodyguards. The cars look like little ants wearing lights on their heads from this height. Skyscrapers pierce the night sky, blacking out the stars but leaving plenty of beauty in their wake. The buzz of the city is more alive than ever, making me feel like a small part of something extraordinary. Dad was right. This view alone is worth a trip to New York.

Someone comes up beside me as I’m soaking in the view and slips their arm around me. I flinch at first, thinking it’s one of Raven’s false displays of emotion again, but then I hear a comforting, familiar deep voice.

“You doin’ all right, baby girl?”

I smile and lean against him. “Yeah. This is awesome, Dad. You were totally right about this view.”

He exhales a contented sigh and squeezes me around the shoulders. “I remember the first time I ever came up here. Cass, Carl, and James and I were in town for our first NYC concert. It was the third concert of our first American tour. We goofed off in the tower for a little bit, and then Carl and James left me alone with Cass. We kissed right over there—”

“Ew.” I tease him as he points to our right.

Dad chuckles. “Anyway, that night was one of my best memories. It was such a sense of accomplishment to have three great concerts under our belt and many more on the way. We were on top of the world, in more ways than one.”

I survey the sight in front of me and imagine Dalton and whatever band mates we’ll find surrounding me. “Man, I can’t wait till that’s me.”

He grins down at me. “It’s nice experiencin’ all this through you again.”

“Well, you’re welcome to hang on for my roller coaster ride.”

His smile softens into the gentle glow that can only be described as “fatherly love.” “I’ll hold you to that.”

Cass comes up behind us with her DSLR camera. I know it’s her because I can hear the motor of the camera as the focus adjusts automatically. She snaps a quick picture of us from behind to capture the moment, and then she orders us to turn around so she can get us smiling. When it comes to Cass and her photography, she’s almost as bossy as Raven. I don’t mind it from her, though. She holds it in front of us selfie-style to take a picture of all three of us, and it ends up being a keeper. When she shows us the picture, I smile at the sight of our little family unit. No matter what happens over the next few months, the three of us are in this together. With their help, I know my dreams are just one school year away.

***

As I lob items into my suitcase, I remember packing for my first trip to L.A. and how different my life was back then. I didn’t care so much about image or appearance. It was all about my music dream and finding my mother. As much as I love the city, I miss the simplicity I enjoyed in Kentucky sometimes. I’m so busy now and have to be away from home more than I care for. I haven’t even been able to pick up a guitar this week, and I won’t be able to for another three weeks.

I welcome the break when my text alert sounds from my nightstand. I drop a fugly puce green dress into the suitcase, wishing I could just dump it in the trash and hope Raven doesn’t notice. I pick up my phone and see a text from Dalton.

Dalton: Got some drummers lined up. What’s a good day for auditions?

I immediately text him back with the day after I get home from London.

Dalton: Okay thanks. I’ll be sure to take that day off work.

Me: Sounds good :) So excited. Can’t wait to get back from hell so we can get the band started.

Dalton: Oh shit, is it that bad?

Me: It’s not all bad. I had fun at the Empire State Building tonight. I’m getting really sick of sitting through interviews, though.

Dalton: Well, you probably won’t have to do that in the UK.

Me: You never know with this family.

Dalton: Lol. Too true. I know from experience how they can spring things on you.

Something tells me Dalton and Raven go way back. I know I shouldn’t pry, but I’m curious.

Me: What kind of experience?

Dalton takes a while to respond.

Dalton: Long story. I’ll tell you more when you get back. All I can say is don’t let her crush your soul. She has a tendency to do that.

I gulp. That was a rather ominous message.

Me: I’ll try. It’s only been a week, and there have been times when I truly thought I might strangle her.

Dalton: You should have. After all, she made you lose your blue streaks. It would have been sweet revenge.

Dalton: When you break free of her clutches, you should get fire hair. That will show her ;)

Me: Lmao! Yes! I’m glad someone understands.

Dalton: Btw, just curious, why are you acting like her best friend if you hate her so much?

I gnaw on my lower lip and decide not to go into the details of my twin plot with Dalton…at least not yet.

Me: That’s a long story too.

Dalton: Okay, well hang in there. Just know you can rant to me about her anytime.

Me: Will do. You rock.

Dalton: Ditto :) Gotta go, ttyl!

Me: Ttyl!