“Go on, Stardust,” I taunted her. She knew it. It wasn’t a moniker. It was a dig.

“I have one brother.” She omitted her parents’ death this time when speaking to me. She’d offered the information to my bandmate freely enough. Maybe she saw me as the enemy and Lucas as an ally—stupid, stupid girl. “I ride my bike everywhere.” She paused, her front teeth sinking into her lip again. “And I have something to tell you, but I’m not sure it’s my place to say it.”

My head snapped up at her last confession.

“What could you possibly know that I don’t?”

“Oh, wow.” She blew air, shaking her head. “Look, I just want to help you.”

“And you are. You’re helping me by doing everything short of changing a fucking diaper to make sure I don’t dip my nose in the white stuff. That’s your job done. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

She stared at me, insolent, her gaze telling me she knew what I was doing. I was pushing her away in a last bid to make her leave, but my heart wasn’t in it anymore. Not all the way, anyway. She was going to stay, whether I liked it or not, and the least I could do for myself was use her until there was nothing left to take. The way Fallon had used me.

“You annoy me so much, sometimes I want to cry,” she gritted through clenched teeth.

I smiled, knowing for a fact I had another set of notes to write down. It was time to finish our session. She’d turned out to be more productive than anticipated. This was all I needed. I’d spend my night writing.

I climbed to my feet, my fingers wrapped around Tania’s neck, and knelt forward, getting into Indie’s face.

“When I finally lay my hands on you—and make no mistakes, Stardust, I will—you will be crying, all right. My name. Over. And. Over. Again.”

Melbourne, Australia

T wo days had passed since the hallway.

Two days in which my relationship with Alex somewhat improved, despite his killing every bit of goodwill I had in my body to tell him the truth about the leaked sex photos and Fallon’s engagement. He was no longer actively bullying me. Instead, he chose to ignore me altogether. I shadowed him like a lovelorn puppy, the equivalent of punching my self-respect to death. We spent the next couple days driving from Sydney to Melbourne, with a stop in some desert town that served mean BBQ ribs and iced tea. Alex spent the majority of the drive at the back of the SUV, trying to write and groaning in frustration. Sometimes he was hyper, animated, and conversational. Most times, he was a step away from a sulk. Blake was always on his phone, arguing with Jenna and Hudson, all while throwing me warning glances every now and again. Alfie was in charge of making sure Alex didn’t have Internet access on his phone, a task he took surprisingly seriously. Alex seemed perfectly content being disconnected from the virtual world. Throughout our time together, I noticed he hadn’t made any personal calls, which I thought was peculiar, but also none of my business.

Lucas and I got closer.

Partly because he was the nicest of the bunch, but mostly because my loneliness was starting to feel like a heavy coat I was desperate to peel off my body. Luc was twenty-seven years old. Just like Alex, he was from Watford. His father worked at a local council; his mother was a teacher. He and his two siblings had had a dog named Harvey. He’d known Alex ever since they were kids, and moved to Los Angeles from London only three years ago, after he broke his engagement to Laura, a girl back home. Apparently, Alex had had a thing with Laura when they were teenagers. And apparently, Lucas was still somewhat bitter about it. The SUV was driven by the same silent dude who’d picked us up from the airport.

“Alex loves to tell the story of how he took Laura’s virginity, and I took her baggage,” Lucas said as we zipped through the desert.

I put my hand on his arm and squeezed.

“I’m sorry.” I meant it, but Lucas looked far from devastated. He occasionally threw glances at Alex, as if trying to gauge his reaction.

“Don’t be,” Alfie chimed in from behind us, where he sat with Alex. “Winslow said it once—once —and he was just taking the piss. Besides, I reckon Waitrose was over her before she pulled her knickers up after their last shag. You were never into her, mate. We all know that.”

Something passed between the three men—Blake, Alfie, Lucas—a secret, by the way their gazes swept through one another.

Blake chuckled. “Laura’s the least of Lucas’ problems.”

Alex’s curtain of nonchalance was drawn tight today, and he didn’t offer any commentary on the subject.

Rain began to beat on the rooftops and the sky cracked with thunder when we rolled into Melbourne. It looked different from Sydney. Older, maybe. We went through the motions. Circling around the hotel for a good twenty minutes before the road was clear. Again, Alex stopped to sign fans’ shirts and mementos, squinting against the rain with a smile. Blake distributed our electronic cards. A floor had been closed and reserved for Alex Winslow and his staff. It occurred to me that this was the norm for these guys. To them, this was what a typical day looked like. Was it any wonder they were all cynical and jaded? There was nothing to chain them to the ground, to one place. They floated through life. Gravity meant nothing to them.

“Hey, Indie,” Lucas said when everyone walked into the elevator. Blake was typing a long text message, Alex was moving his guitar strap from shoulder to shoulder and rubbing off the raindrops from his hair, and Alfie was pretending to scratch his nose, even though he was very clearly picking at it.

“Yeah?”

“You up for a stroll? Show’s not until tomorrow, and the rain’s about to stop any minute now.”

I whipped my head in Blake’s direction. I couldn’t take time off and wander around. I had to babysit Alex. Unless Blake was with him, which he was, most of the time. Blake scratched his temple with his most important organ—his phone.

“It’s Saturday, mate. Does she not get any time off at all?” Lucas probed, elbowing him lightly.

Alex dragged his fingers over his jaw, his eyes set on Blake, who flicked his gaze toward the singer.

“Let’s talk about it privately.” Blake remained cryptic, tucking his cell phone into his front pocket and evading Alex’s gaze. It made me feel so uncomfortable my skin crawled.