Untamed

I felt like steam was rising from the top of my head, and my cheeks felt like someone had poured acid on them. A

I balled my hands into fists; I felt like driving them through a wall. “Yes, we do. This is exactly the type of crappy payback thing he would do. He snubbed us, A

A

She grabbed my elbow. “Wait, let’s talk about this. We’ve never really talked about…how you feel about leaving the band. So…how do you feel?” She seemed just as uncomfortable saying it as I did hearing it.

Jerking my elbow away, I raised my chin and pushed away the turmoil trying to boil to life. I am Griffin Hancock…nothing bothers me. Nothing even touches me. “I’m fine. Leaving those fuckers was the best decision I ever made, and I haven’t looked back once since making it.”

A

Raising my hands, I cut her off. “The only thing that bothers me is that the alcohol is out there and I’m still in here. But that’s something I can easily fix.” I turned and left without another word.

The drive to Inglewood took a while, and I was silent the entire ride. I’d rented us a limo so we could show up in style, but I wasn’t enjoying it. I wasn’t enjoying much of anything, except the minibar.

“You might want to slow down, babe. Throwing up on the red carpet may not be the type of exposure Harold had in mind.”

A

Ignoring her statement, I tipped back my He

The driver helped A

Some classy chick in a fancy dress approached me with a microphone. “Well, hello,” she started to say. I didn’t let her finish though. Ripping the microphone out of her hand, I turned to the cameraman standing behind her. “Griffin Hancock here! What the fuck up, world!”

The woman tried to get the mic back, sputtering, “You can’t say that on TV!”

Turning so she couldn’t take the microphone away from me, I pointed at the camera. “Keep a lookout for my new show, Acing It. It’s going to blow your fucking mind!”

She finally got a hand on the microphone and yanked it away from me. “Prick!” she screeched while I laughed. A

Once we finally got to the end of the carpet, A

A

“Fine,” I muttered, “but I have to pee first.”

By the time we found a bathroom, mingled, and schmoozed with people, the show was about to start. A

Getting excited, I started unbuttoning my shirt. “Yeah? You want to do it right here? In front of the crowd? Works for me!”

She slapped her hand over mine, stopping me. “Griff…” She tilted her head toward the only two empty seats in the row. I didn’t see why she looked worried, until I noticed who was occupying the full seats. All the D-Bags and their bitches.

“Fuck, no.” I looked around the auditorium for that slimy producer who’d set this up. “Where the fuck is Harold? I’m go

My screaming got the attention of everyone in our area, including my ex-bandmates. Kellan looked surprised to see me, Evan looked conflicted. Matt just looked pissed. Squeezing Rachel’s hand tighter, he narrowed his eyes at me. “What are you doing here? You’re not in the band anymore, remember?”

I glanced at his hand holding Rachel’s, and sure enough, there was a shiny gold band around it. Fucker really did get married without me. “It’s true, isn’t it? You really did tie the knot? Thanks for the invite, asswipe.”

Matt’s face turned a deep red. “It was close friends and family only. You’re neither anymore.”

That got under my skin, and I took a step forward. “You fucking piece of shit!”

Kellan stood up and put his hands on my shoulders. Even plastered, I registered the clicking of camera phones going off. Harold had wanted a show, and here I was giving him one. “Calm down, Griffin. It wasn’t like that. It was…a spur-of-the-moment thing. Let’s go into the lobby and we can talk about it.”

I shoved him away from me. His kindness was just as grating as Matt’s disdain; I didn’t need sympathy. “Don’t do me any favors, Kell. He’s just mad because I don’t need him anymore, and he can’t control me. I don’t need any of you anymore. I’ve got my own thing, and it’s bigger and better than anything I had with you guys. You’re all just jealous, and you can all suck it!”

Turning around, I stormed off. “Griffin, wait!” Kellan called.

I could just hear Matt responding with “Save it, Kell, he’s not worth chasing after. If he wants to go, fucking let him.”

Grabbing A

Towering over him, I snapped, “Then you have twenty seconds to get the fuck out of my way.” I pointed down to the front of the auditorium, where our seats used to be. “I’m not sitting down there. I’m going home.” Fuck Harold. I’d made my appearance. That was all that was required of me.

The PA raised his hands. “I can get you different seats. I’m sure someone in the back would be more than happy to swap with you.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Whatever.” I really didn’t care if I stayed or if we left anymore. I just wanted this night to be over with.

I tried not to look at the band throughout that stupid awards show, but my new seat was positioned in such a way that if I wanted to look at the stage, I had to look over their heads. And even though I didn’t want to, I noticed them: Evan and Je

And it was really hard to ignore them when they went onstage to present an award. The big one—Video of the Year. Whatever. The audience screamed and hollered for them like they’d never seen them before. I booed. Someone had to. Hearing only positive feedback was what inflated egos, and theirs were inflated enough.