My entire body goes cold. A bar fight.Of course.“Is he—” I swallow. “Is he okay?”
“He’s alive,” she says quickly. “But he broke a man’s nose on camera. Apparently, his management announced that he’s‘taking a break for his health.’And guess where he’s spending that break?”
I grip the edge of my desk until my fingers ache. “Seaside.”
“Yeah.”
I can’t breathe inside the studio anymore. I grab my keys and walk straight out the door. By the time I’m in my forest green Subaru, I’m shaking. Not intensely...just enough that I have to wrap both hands around the steering wheel to keep myself together.
I should go to him. I should talk to him. No.
Heather’s still on the line, her voice softer now. “I’m sorry, Em. I know this is the last thing you need.”
I stare out the windshield. The evening light is fading, the street washed in dusky gold, and everything feels unreal. Like the world has shifted a degree to the left. “He’s really coming back here?” My voice cracks on the last word.
“Yes,” she confirms quietly.
I swallow hard. The place we fell in love. The place he left me standing barefoot on my porch at nineteen with mascarastreaking down my cheeks. I close my eyes, gripping the wheel tighter than before.
“Em…” Heather’s voice is full of that soft, worried tone. “I don’t know how long he’s staying. But you don’t have to see him. You don’t have to do anything.”
But the truth is heavy in my chest. Part of me wants to see him. Part of me never recovered from the day he left. And...part of me wants to see if I can help him.Would he even want to see me? Am I being fucking pathetic right now?
The ocean crashes faintly in the distance. It’s the only sound since I had to roll down my windows for air. “I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.
“That’s okay,” Heather murmurs. “You don’t have to decide right at this moment. I can come over with some ice cream?”
I nod even though she can’t see it. “Yeah, sure. That’d be nice.” But all I can think is...I’ve helped so many beautiful people through their traumas and faced some of the most debilitating darkness...but I’m not ready for this.
Chapter seven
JUDE GRAVES
The ride feels annoyingly endless. I’m slouched in the backseat, high as fuck from the pills Adriana gave me to stop the cravings. I stare out the tinted window as trees flicker past. Micah is sleeping soundly beside me.
Nolan sits up front, talking on his phone. “Yeah, we’re heading to a house in Seaside.Health break.Don’t mention the bar fight. Exhaustion and creative burnout. These kids get famous and implode all the time—it’ll sell. Keep Finnick and Kami away if you can. They’re in New York.” He ends the call and exhales like he’s been carrying the weight of my mistakes.
He hasn’t. He’s responsible for them.
“Head up, boys,” he says, glancing at us in the mirror. “You look like death.”
I let out a low laugh. “You’d know.”
His jaw tightens, but he grins anyway. “Cute. Everyone can see you’re on death’s doorstep.”
I lift my head just enough.That’s what Micah said, too.“I’d love nothing fucking more than to be clean and away from this,” I mutter. “Or dead.”
He rolls his eyes. “A goddamn drama king.”
Adriana taps through her phone beside him, silent. She’s learned not to intervene. Either he screams at her or I do. Micahkeeps to himself. The poor bastard always does. The car slows. Outside, the world opens up—gray ocean behind a line of pines, a quaint white house, a neat gravel drive.
“Alright, kid.” Nolan turns in his seat, smile sharp and reptilian. “Let’s make this look convincing.”
I light a cigarette just to spite him, even though my hands are trembling. “No promises. Why here?”
He snatches the lighter from me and pockets it. “Portland’s an hour and a half away. But small town plays better for the press. And you haven’t been here in a while.” His eyes flick to mine in the mirror. “Poetic, really. Returning home to get better.”
“Great. So what’s the script?”