Page 274 of Fame & Chaos

“Playing the field tonight?”

“I’m not stupid. I know when a fight is lost. I never could have won it to begin with, could I?”

I frown and slump my shoulders, feeling sorry for him. “You don’t want to try?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “She isn’t interested in me, and I know what she’s doing with Danger. I can’t compete with a broody American. Plus, everyone loves the lead singers. No one goes for the fucking drummer.”

“If you love her, you should fight for her.”

“Sometimes, no matter how hard you fight, you just can’t win.”

“You’re actually giving up then?” I ask, and he nods.

“Yeah, I never really tried. There’s no point… she sees me as a brother, and you can’t come back from that.”

“Yeah, the brother zone. That sucks, dude. I’m sorry.” I walk over to him and pull him in for a man hug and for once he doesn’t fight me off or tackle me in a play fight. He embraces me back and holds me tight seeking the comfort he needs right now. I slap his back and squeeze him hard. “Hey, I’m always here if you need to chat.”

He nods and exhales, shaking his head like he’s trying to fight back emotions. “Right, enough of that shit. Go to your girl, have FaceTime sex, and I’m gonna find me a Stockholmian to lose myself in,” he says.

I nod and pull back from him and grip his shoulders. “You got this.”

“Yeah, I do,” he confirms, and I slap his shoulder before turning and walking out.

I look down at my phone to see a message from Indi.

Indi: Getting changed now. I’ll FaceTime in fifteen, see you soon rockstar. xoxo

I smile as I walk out of the green room and make my way to the back of the venue and out to the waiting chauffeured car. I tell the driver to take me to the Hyatt, and within five minutes, I’m in my hotel suite, naked, on the bed with my iPad and waiting for a late-night session with Indi.

***

The next day I’m exhausted after staying up so late with Indi, but it was worth every second.

I vaguely remember hearing a kerfuffle in the hallway early this morning, but I was far too tired to care what it was about. As it is, I’m already running late getting to the venue for tonight’s concert.

As I make my way through the long hallways, Recoil’s sound check echoes toward me from the stage. I haven’t spoken to anyone yet today. Between last night’s concert and my FaceTime date with Indi, I’m running on fumes, and I know I need to start looking after myself. This tour has only just begun, and if I don’t get enough sleep, I’ll burn myself out before we’re halfway through it.

When I reach the side of the stage, it’s almost deserted apart from a few sound technicians and the merchandise crew checking stock for the latest shipment of T-shirts. I smile as I walk past, and they all giggle like schoolgirls, apparently caught off guard that the famous rockstar smiled at them.

I chuckle to myself just as Recoil finishes their sound check.

Danger comes bounding off the stage, looking like he’s about to murder someone, while the rest of the band casually pack away their gear. He spots me and stops dead, staring at me without saying a word, like he’s deciding whether I’m the right person to tell whatever’s on his mind.

“Danger.”

He furrows his brow, drags a hand through his wild curls, and sighs. “I fucked Ella.”

Jesus! My eyes widen.

He stands there stiffly, almost bracing himself, like he expects me to swing at him.

“Okay…”

His shoulders relax a fraction. “Colt walked in.”

Well, fuck me! My eyes practically pop out of my head.

“What the hell?” I choke. “Like… while you were actually fucking?”