Walking back into her apartment felt like returning from a dream world to the crushing reality of—well, reality. Spending the morning with Eric had almost made her forget all the shit she was currently dealing with in the real world. She’d picked up her car from the bar. Happy she hadn’t had to do the walk of shame, especially since she hadn’t even gotten laid. Talk about insult to injury.

But both her feet were firmly planted in reality now as she entered the apartment. Her roommates were out, as usual. Most of the time it seemed like she was the only one living there. Her neglected canvases and prints were stacked in the corner, empty fridge rattled and the rental increase flyer crumpled in the trash. All that punched a little harder after her magical night, well—minus the puking, with Eric. Opening her laptop, Keira checked her bank account to see what could be done. Looked like donating plasma or maybe asking Mark if she could work at The Bramble for the rest of the summer would be on her plate for the day.

An incoming message from her sister pulled her from her tumultuous thoughts.

Izzy: What’s up?

Keira: Nothing much.

Her phone vibrated in her hand as her sister’s incoming call came through.

“Hey Izzy, what’s going on?”

“Not much, but I haven’t heard from my baby sister in a while and I wanted to know what was going on.”

“I had Mark’s going away party last night. Found out that I’m not going to be getting any summer classes. Rent is going up three hundred dollars. And I may have spent the night with a soon-to-be-famous musician.”

“That sucks about your rent and the summer classes. And when does Mark leave town?”

“Seriously? That’s the one you ask about?”

“I figured the musician thing was thrown in there to throw me off. Did you seriously spend the night with a famous musician? Who?” Izzy’s voice went up about two octaves.

“It’s not as scandalous as it sounds. I got food poisoning yesterday after eating some moldy take out.”

“You know I said that to you the last time I was there. Three days’ maximum. I swear your fridge is like some kind of scientific experiment gone awry.”

“We can’t all be domestic goddesses like yourself.” Her sister snorted. Izzy was an excellent cook and a great mom. She’d been going it all alone since her husband died a few years ago.

“I think you’re confusing basic live sustaining activities with domestic goddess-ness.”

“You cook almost every night!”

“I have a child to feed. They tend to not be too great at foraging and making their own food.”

“How is my favorite niece?”

“You mean your only niece,” Izzy deadpanned.

“Tomato-tomatoe. How’s the little munchkin?”

“Amy’s good. She’s out back with her cardboard sword and eye patch.”

“Ah, still in the pirate phase?”

“Since she has to wear the patch anyway, I figured I’d just let her run with it for as long as she wants. What were you saying about your summer classes and rent? When did you find out about that?” Keira flopped back onto the bed.

“Yesterday. It was a one two punch.”

“That sucks. Do you have savings to cover it? If not, I can try to get some money together to help you out.”

“No, Izzy. No, I’ll be fine. I’m good. I have some savings, so I’ll be fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” she quipped.

“Learned from the best,” Keira said, sticking out her tongue even though her sister couldn’t see her.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth.” Her sister teased.

“How did you—”

“You’re so predictable, Keira.” She heard a banging on her sister’s end of the call. “Do not climb to the top of the swings, young lady.” She could hear her sister calling to her niece. “I have to go. Your niece is trying to give me a heart attack. Let me know if you need any help and I’m being serious and don’t be a stranger. If you don’t have summer classes then that means you can come to visit, maybe stay with us for a little bit,” she said, hopeful.

“Maybe, we’ll see. I might try to pick up an odd job here or there to cover the difference.”

“Well, if you need a place to stay, you know you’re always welcome here.”

“I know. Love you Izzy.”

“Love you Keira, bye.” She ended the call and put her phone on the bedside table. Suddenly, tired and paralyzed by the stress of trying to make sense of her life, Keira thought about how to get through the summer. Did they still pay for plasma?

Her phone vibrated on the table next to her. Glancing at it, an unknown number flashed on the screen. Surely, debt collectors couldn’t be coming after her already! She accepted the call cautiously.

“Hello?”

“Keira?”

“Yes,” she said, unsure.

“Hey, it’s Eric,” he said, brightly and she immediately relaxed. Checking the time on her computer, it had been less than forty minutes since she left. Why was he calling her?

“How would you feel about coming on tour with me?” She nearly dropped the phone and pulled it away from her face to make sure a call connected and a hallucination hadn’t started.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” she said, bringing the phone back to her face.

“How would you feel about coming on tour with me?” he said, more slowly enunciating each word.

“Why would I come on tour with you?” She was wracking her brain to try and figure out what the hell she’d do on tour with him—other than the obvious. But She didn’t think guys usually went for girls that puked on them. Was that his thing or something? Was he into girls puking on him? Damnit! Of course, he would have some weird fetish, right? He couldn’t just be a hot, multi-instrumental, soon to be world famous musician, of course there was a catch.

“My record label wants to try something new for this tour. Something to engage the fans.” That stopped her from her internal-rambling rabbit hole.

“Okay. And what does this have to do with me going on tour with you?”

“They were thinking of having a photographer travel with me on tour. To give fans an inside look at what it’s like to be out on the road. A special gift to the fans.”

“And you want me to do it?” she asked, incredulous. She’d never done anything like that before. She hadn’t ever been paid for her photography.

“I’ve seen your stuff. It’s impressive. They like the idea and I pitched you as the artist. And they said, contingent on seeing some of your work that they’d go with you.”

“Seriously?” She was glad she was already sitting on the bed, because had she been standing, she’d definitely be on the floor right now. A paying job. A paying job going on tour with Eric Newcastle. She pinched herself. Ouch, damnit! Yes, definitely real.

“Yeah, and it pays well.” He quoted her an amount that nearly made her fall off the bed. Holy shit! That would be more than enough to keep her head above water.

“That’s per month?”

“That’s per week,” he said. Her hand went numb and she dropped the phone. This time she did fall off the bed, plopping onto the floor and scrambling to pick up the phone. The dizziness she thought had been banished earlier with some rest and good food was back with a vengeance. If she got that kind of money for even a couple of months, she wouldn’t have to worry about studio rentals or not getting picked up for summer classes for a long while. Hell, with that money she could take a year off, travel and take pictures to her heart’s content. All the work in the world can’t make up for the fact that you’re such a bland artist, Keira. She winced as old memories resurfaced. But she faced her fears, determined not to let those thoughts get in the way of this opportunity.

“How long’s the tour?”

“They want to give you a trial run on the tour with Uncharted, so a couple of weeks there and then my North American tour starts and then it’s off to Europe. So, if it works well on the Uncharted tour, they’d keep you on for my solo tour. It would last the rest of the summer.”

“Wow,” she said, dumbfounded. Opportunities didn’t come up like this very often. She’d have the chance to get her photos in front of thousands of fans. Like they’re going to even care about your shitty pictures. Clenching her fists, she squeezed her eyes shut to block out the insidious voice from her past. She could make some serious money and travel around to different cities instead of being stuck in LA, possibly waiting tables this summer.

“Why me?” she said, curious about why he would give her such a huge opportunity. Please don’t say he just wants to get into her pants.

“Why not you? I’ve seen your stuff. It’s good. You could use the money, you’re off for the summer and available on short notice. Plus, you’re a friend of Mark’s.”

“And it’s not just because you want to sleep with me,” she cringed the second she said it. Did it really matter at this point? She needed the money and she wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of sleeping with Eric, but with the complication of working with him thrown in there, she didn’t want to screw things up.

“I’m not offering you this so you’ll sleep with me. I’m offering you this because you’re a great artist. Not to say that I don’t find you attractive and haven’t thought about how your lips would taste since you sat next to me at the bar last night.” Her mouth hung open at his candidness. He chuckled on the other end of the line and she snapped her mouth shut.

“I’m not going to lie, Keira. I find you incredibly attractive. But if a condition to get you to come on tour with me is that we don’t sleep together, then I can abide by that. As long as you can,” he paused and she held her breath. He was a seriously dangerous man. But if she wanted to be taken seriously and wanted her art to stand on its own, she couldn’t have people thinking that she’d only gotten the job because she was sleeping with Eric.

Mulling it over in her head, she debated back and forth about the whole thing. What were her other options? There weren’t any. It was way too late to get classes somewhere else. Her rent was going up and she didn’t have the money to cover her portion. With this money, and exposure maybe other opportunities could come along with so many people seeing her work. She bit her bottom lip, trying to think it through.

And then there was Eric, the silence on the other line drawn out even longer. How would she deal with him?

“Hello,” he said, probably thinking she’d passed out.

She imagined being on tour meant close quarters. Could she resist him and maintain her artistic integrity? Could she take the type of pictures they needed? Only one way to find out.

Standing from the floor, she stared at herself in the mirror. She could do this. She could do this.

“I’m in,” she said with more confidence than she felt. He chuckled and the baby birds were flapping away in her stomach.

“Good, I thought the line had disconnected for a second. Glad to hear you’re in, Keira. Welcome to the tour. I’ll give you the address where we’ll be having the meeting. I can’t wait to see how we work together.”

Oh shit, she was in deep trouble.