Rhys swallowed hard, the bravado of the previous night evaporating under Julian Lee's usually warm but now distinctly glacial gaze. The memory of Heather's surprised, then radiant, face as he'd pulled her onto the stage flickered in his mind, a defiant spark against the encroaching wave of corporate fury.
"Good morning, Julian," Rhys began, the attempt at casualness in his tone sounding brittle even to his own ears.
Julian Lee didn't return the greeting.
He leaned back in his plush leather chair, the panoramic view of the city – a vista he often shared with Rhys during more amicable conversations – now a cold, indifferent backdrop.
"Morning? Rhys, there's nothing 'morning' about the absolute clusterfuck you unleashed last night. The internet is a rabid dog, and you just threw it a prime slab of meat. Explain. Now."
His voice, though still possessing its inherent authority, was laced with a raw anger that Rhys rarely witnessed.
Rhys ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, a gesture of frustration and dawning realization. "I… I wanted to be honest, Julian. With everyone. I'm sick of the secrecy. Heather deserves better."
Julian slammed his hand flat on the polished mahogany desk, the sharp crack echoing in the tense silence. "Deserves better? What about the band, Rhys? Do they deserve this tidal wave of speculation and potential backlash? What about the years we've spent building the Lux brand, brick by painstaking brick? You think your personal life exists in a vacuum? You're a global icon, for Christ's sake!"
"You all know about Heather!" Rhys shot back, his own temper flaring. "You've met her. You all like her. They all understand how I feel."
"Understand is one thing, Rhys. Having their faces plastered on every gossip rag alongside headlines about your 'mystery woman' is quite another. Their endorsements are on the line! Our family-friendly image is being dragged through the mud! Did you even consider the sponsors who might not want their brand associated with this… this spontaneous soap opera?" Julian's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"So, what was I supposed to do, Julian? Keep her hidden away like some dirty secret?" Rhys's voice rose, the carefully constructed walls of his composure beginning to crumble.
"She's not some fleeting fling! She's Anthony's niece, for God's sake! You know how much that means to me, to all of us!"
Julian's anger seemed to deflate slightly at the mention of Anthony Go, the company's respected trainer and his long-time friend.
He sighed, rubbing a hand across his temples. "Yes, Rhys, I know. That's why I'm doubly furious. Anthony trusts you. I trust you. And you pull this… this rockstar cliché out of your ass on the concert! I like Heather, Rhys. I genuinely do. Anthony speaks the world of her. But this wasn't just about you two. This was about the entire damn company!"
"I love her, Julian," Rhys said, his voice quieter now, the fight draining out of him. "I just… I wanted the world to know."
Julian's gaze softened infinitesimally, a flicker of the paternal affection he held for Rhys breaking through the anger. "I know you do, kid. And in a normal world, that would be the end of it. But this isn't normal. This is Lux. This is a multi-million dollar enterprise. And you just potentially threw a wrench in the works the size of a tour bus."
Just then, Rhys's phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. He glanced down to see a text from Jess:
Lee's office soundproofed? Pretty sure the whole floor heard him. Band meeting – code red.
A fresh wave of guilt washed over Rhys. He hadn't just incurred Julian's wrath; he'd thrown his bandmates into the eye of the storm.
"What do you want me to do, Julian?" Rhys asked, the defiance gone, replaced by a weary resignation.
Julian leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Damage control, Rhys. That's what you're going to do. You're going to listen to every word the PR team tells you. You're going to issue a carefully crafted statement. You're going to play the charming, apologetic idol who was simply overcome by love. And for the love of all that is holy, no more impromptu declarations on international television. Understood?"
Rhys nodded slowly, the weight of the reprimand settling heavily on his shoulders. "Understood, Julian."
Julian sighed again, the anger in his eyes replaced by a weary disappointment. "Good. Now go. Your band is waiting to lynch you. And Rhys? Next time you feel the urge to grandstand about your personal life, try running it by me first. Just… try."
Rhys walked out of Julian's office feeling like he'd just survived a Category 5 hurricane.
The air in the hallway seemed thin, and the polite nods and strained smiles from the staff he passed felt loaded with unspoken curiosity and concern. He could practically hear the frantic tapping of keyboards as the PR team scrambled to contain the digital wildfire he'd ignited.
He found the rest of Lux crammed into their rehearsal space, the usual easy camaraderie replaced by a palpable tension.
Jess was pacing, his fiery red hair a vibrant contrast to his stormy expression. Henry sat hunched, meticulously polishing a spot on his shoe that was already gleaming. Emmett was silently playing on his phone, his usual quiet intensity amplified. Dave was scrolling through his phone, his brow furrowed.
The moment Rhys walked in, all eyes turned to him. The silence hung heavy before Jess finally broke it.
"Well, Romeo," he said, his voice sharp, "care to explain the theatrical production last night?"
"Julian just finished giving me the third degree," Rhys said, sinking onto a worn amplifier case. "He's... not thrilled."
"Not thrilled is an understatement," Dave muttered, still glued to his phone. "My agent's been blowing up my phone. Apparently, some of our endorsements are getting twitchy."
"Mine too," Henry grunted. "Something about 'brand alignment' and 'potential negative impact'."
Emmett finally spoke, his voice soft but carrying a hint of concern. "Are you okay, Rhys? And... is she?"
Rhys nodded slowly. "We're... okay. Shaken, maybe. The internet is a terrifying place."
"Tell us about it," Jess snorted. "My feed is a constant stream of 'Who is this basic?' and 'Rhys can do so much better.' Some of them are even digging up her old high school photos."
"They found out where she works," Rhys said, a knot of worry tightening in his chest. "Some 'fans' were harassing her at the café this morning. Marjorie had to threaten to call the cops."
A collective groan went around the room. "This is exactly what we were trying to avoid," Dave said, finally looking up from his phone. "The whole point of a gradual reveal was to control the narrative, to ease people into it."
"I know, I know," Rhys said, running a hand through his hair again. "I messed up. I was... I was caught up in the moment. Seeing her backstage, knowing how much I wanted her to be a part of my world..."
"We get it, man," Henry said, his voice softening slightly. "We're happy for you. Really. But you have to understand the impact this has on all of us. Lux isn't just a band; it's a business. And right now, business is... complicated."
"Julian wants me to do damage control," Rhys said. "A carefully worded statement. Play the lovesick fool. Basically, grovel for forgiveness from the fanbase."
Jess snorted again. "Sounds about right. Well, let's hear it, Romeo. What pearls of wisdom has the PR machine churned out for you?"
Rhys sighed, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "Something about my life being 'enriched by an unexpected connection' and asking for 'understanding and respect for Heather's privacy'."
"Unexpected connection?" Dave raised an eyebrow. "We've known about Heather for years."
"That's for the public, Dave," Rhys said wearily. "Apparently, we need to paint this as some whirlwind romance that swept me off my feet."
Emmett cleared his throat. "What about Heather? How is she handling all this?"
"She's scared," Rhys admitted, his voice low. "The cameras, the online hate... it's a lot to take in. Especially for someone who just wants to make a decent latte and go home."
A heavy silence descended upon the rehearsal space. The weight of Rhys's impulsive act, and its far-reaching consequences, hung in the air.
They were a band, a brotherhood, but they were also a business, and the lines were now dangerously blurred. The carefully constructed world of Lux had just been shaken to its core, and none of them knew for sure what the aftershocks would bring.