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PROLOGUE
NATASHA
My eyes tracked the length of the corridor before slipping the key card into the lock and entering unnoticed, smiling to myself.
It hadn’t been anywhere near as difficult as I thought it would be. I had lucked out with the handsome male receptionist. My performance as the slightly air-headed assistant who was sure to be fired if she couldn’t do what her boss had asked her had clearly convinced him.
And what would my boss do if I didn’t return with his favourite lucky silk scarf? He had refused to go on stage without it, and ‘you know what these temperamental musicians are like.’ An extra flutter of my eyelashes and the key to Lennox Love’s hotel room was all mine.
I had been thinking about this for a while, planning every detail so everything would be perfect. I wanted to surprise him with my demonstration of love, and I knew how much he would appreciate it. Who wouldn’t love to receive such a beautiful gesture of adoration from their soulmate?
As I stepped into his hotel suite, I paused for a moment to admire the extravagance of the place. Inhaling the air, I caught the scent of his aftershave. It was the first thing I noticed the first time we met, and even now after all these years he was still wearing it. It was luxurious.
I hastily set my bag down, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Feverishly, I pulled out all my supplies, desperate to get back to the concert on time. I moved quickly to the bed and started to spread the rose petals – deep red and velvety soft, a reminder of my love for him through the laughter and the tears. I had to be there tonight; I wanted him to know how much I still cared about him after all this time.
I cautiously took the framed photo of us from the bag, holding it close to my chest. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I thought back to when the photograph had been taken. We had been so young, but the chemistry between us had been palpable. I placed it in the centre of the bed, wedged between two plush pillows.
With trembling hands, I grabbed the card I had prepared to celebrate our special night and delicately slipped in the tiny love note I had written. With each item placed where I wanted, my heart fluttered faster, and my eyes filled with tears of joyous memories. This was perfection. We were perfection.
Lifting out a bottle of champagne and a box of his favourite chocolates, I set them on his bedside table for us to enjoy together later. With that, I’ve finished my preparations.
I wanted to make sure Lennox’s return to touring after such a long hiatus is truly unforgettable. Making this night a one-of-a-kind experience was my goal; something he would never forget. I took one last look around the room and decided I had done enough. Understated, pretty, but sure to make an impact and send the right message to him.
I picked up my bag and proceeded to the door. Being cautious, I peered out into the hallway to make sure there was no one around to spot me and spoil the surprise for Lennox before I quickly exited the room.
CHAPTER 1
LENNOX
I stood there on the stage, my arms spread wide before taking a bow. The sound of the crowd was vibrating through me; whistles, cheers, thousands chanting my name. This was the only drug I would need from now on, my only future fix. It was intense and breathtaking, and worth every second of the hard work I had put in to get here.
When I walked off the stage, I felt as though I was floating on a soft cloud, the sounds of adulation carrying me weightlessly towards the backstage crew. There I was met with pats on the back all until I reached the tour manager Carl.
“Jesus Christ, Lennox, that was off the charts amazing!”
I beamed at his words, feeling a heady mix of pride and humility. I wasn’t so cocky to believe I couldn’t fall from these lofty heights at any given moment.
“Come on, fella.” Carl grinned and ushered me in the direction of the stage door where a car waited to take me back to the hotel. This was what I lived for—sharing my lyrics with people, having the music inspire emotions in them. I felt like I was being the truest version of myself I could be, and that feeling was priceless.
When I finally got back to the hotel my head was still spinning. The crowd had been amazing; they had been warm, welcoming, and seemed to love my new songs even more than they ever did when I was in the boy band. It had been fifteen years since I had last been on tour, and a lot had changed in that time. I had changed in that time.
Back then I was riding high on the crest of a wave made from boy band fame and fortune. And I crashed lower than the pits of hell on the other side of it. I might have only been seventeen and very naïve when I joined the band, but I was old enough to know I was bisexual. Even as that inexperienced teenager, I had still had a couple of boyfriends and a girlfriend.
My background had been vetted by the PR team for the record label, and they had decided since I had a girlfriend when I joined the band, it would make more sense if I didn’t mention I was bi. Instead, they pushed the heteronormative version of myself ‘for the fans.’
My immaturity was proven because I agreed; the fame and the band were more important. Until I discovered very quickly it wasn’t. I was utterly fucking miserable and took to self-medicating those feeling away.
Initially, it didn’t seem that bad. I was the life and soul of every party – and I went to a lot of parties. But that made it so much easier to dismiss. It wasn’t that I was downing as much alcohol as I could in a night and trying to convince myself I didn’t actually have a problem; I was only drinking to be social. I was only drinking because it was fun. At least it was only booze and not something actually dangerous like drugs.
That was until I crashed and burned. I had been skirting the edges of a breakdown for months. Not being able to be myself was just too much. The alcohol wasn’t doing what it was meant to anymore, and I signed myself into rehab.
Mickie, the manager of the band, had insisted I didn’t actually have any problems with alcohol. He was intent on the lie that I was merely burned out from the pressures of being on tour for so long. The official story was that I was suffering from stress and exhaustion. The management tried so hard to cover up the actual problem, all in the name of ‘protecting the band’.
As well as teaching me how to break free from the demon booze, one of the other things rehab taught us was to remove the toxicity in our lives because it would only hinder our recovery and could make us more prone to a relapse. A lightbulb moment occurred one counselling session when my psychologist questioned why I had started to drink as heavily as I had.
Knowing that I had to be honest, I came out to him as bisexual. I explained what had been said to me, all for the sake of looking out for the band’s image. He looked at me and said, “And who was looking out for you, Lennox? Don’t respond to that now, take some time to really think about the answer, and we can discuss it in your next session.”
His question started me thinking about everyone who had ever told me to go against being myself. Thinking about who had been looking out for me, and the conclusion I came to was no one – not even myself.
