Free Rocked in Pieces by Clara Bayard

red with what looked like rage.
    “We need to see you downstairs in the conference room, please. Right away.”
    “Uh… can I get dressed?”
    “Ten minutes.” She spun on her heel and was down the hall before I could say anything else.
    What the fuck. I wasn’t supposed to have anything until this afternoon. The band had rented out the hotel’s bar to host a meet-and-greet with some super fans, and we’d be shooting that, but otherwise, it was a slow day until show time.
    I pulled on clothes and brushed my teeth, baffled, and checked my phone to figure out what was going on. All I saw was a ton of emails from the office about the footage Steven had sent last night. They were awfully excited about some silly stuff, but whatever. Happy bosses were a good thing.
    When I got downstairs, Becca, Christine, and a few men in suits were waiting for me.
    “Hi,” I said lamely.
    “Sit down,” one of the suits said. He pressed a button on a laptop and the flat screen on the wall lit up, with the HSTV website on it. He hit another button and the video from yesterday began to play.
    I was about to ask a question when I heard Joe’s voice coming out of the speakers.
    Oh no. It was the stuff we’d promised not to show. The footage that wasn’t supposed to ever leave the camera’s memory card.
    “H-how did this happen?”
    Stoney faces greeted my question.
    Christine stood up. “That is exactly what we’d like to know, Ellie.”
    “I have no idea. God, I’m so sorry.” I thought about the band. Especially Matthew. “Where are they? Where are the guys?”
    “Upstairs in their suite.”
    “I need to talk to them.”
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Becca said softly. “You’re the last person they want to see.”
    She was right, but it didn’t matter. I had to see them. “I’ll come back once I understand what happened. I’ll figure this out.”
    But as I rode up to the top floor, I knew there was only one way this could have happened. Steven sent all the footage by accident. He probably just forgot. But I was responsible, and there’s no way I was going to leave him to take the blame alone. I’d just apologize, call to get the video taken down and everything would be okay. It had to be.
    When I got to the suite I knocked. No one answered so I tried the door and it was open. I went inside and saw chaos. Empty bottles of booze everywhere, sticky drying liquid on the floors and tables. There were even a few shards of broken glass next to the door as if someone had flung something delicate at it. This was worse than I thought.
    I walked through to the small kitchen area, where the four members of the band were sitting. No one said anything.
    “Guys, I just heard. I’m so sorry.”
    “Sorry?” Joe spat. “You’re sorry. Do you think it’s that easy? You think you can betray us and just apologize? What kind of person are you?”
    Rick crossed his arms and glared at me. “She’s not a person. She’s a fucking vulture. We knew this. Yesterday just confirms it.”
    That pissed me off, and my frustration exploded. Everyone made mistakes and they were acting like I’d killed someone.
    “I get it, I’m terrible. Scum of the earth. Whatever. But what you guys like to forget it, people like me are part of why you’re here. Your fans want to know everything about you. And the more they hear the more they want. And the more they want the more they buy your music. And concert tickets. And t-shirts and fucking mouse pads and stickers and hats and all that. Then they wear it around and all their friends want the cool shit too so they start paying attention. Talk about the music and your lives. And buy products who use your songs in their commercials. And go to movies with you on the soundtrack. All of that snowballs into making you the kings of the world you are right now. And do you think all of that would have happened without ‘vultures’ like me? No, it wouldn’t. You’d probably still be playing