Star-Crossed ✔️

2

- 2 -

The first show in Seattle went well.

It was a smaller, more intimate venue, but the building was packed beyond capacity. Hundreds of faces beamed up at me from below and I survived the show, just barely.

I had rehearsed for countless hours and days and months but I wasn't happy with how the show went. The crowd was absolutely mad, the loudest I'd ever heard. I know they enjoyed it and my insecurities were all in my head. But what else was new?

"You crushed it," Joey said as I passed him on my way to the green room. Dustin had watched the show from the audience. I think he just enjoyed the attention he got when people recognized him.

"I sucked," I replied. The mini fridge was pre-stocked with water bottles and liquor. I went for the liquor.

Joey was looking at his phone while speaking. "No, you fucking crushed it," he said. "This is gonna be a good tour, my boy."

I rolled my eyes. The sweet, sweet taste of Jameson was lingering on my tongue and I immediately relaxed, focusing on the burn of the whiskey rather than all of the notes I missed and shitty moves I pulled. Dustin hustled into the room, his cheeks blazing red from the sweaty crowd.

"Dude," he began, "you're a god."

"Mm–" I tried to speak before washing down another gulp of the burning drink. "Drink. Now."

Dustin grabbed the bottle from me and tipped it back, nearly chugging it. He always disgusted me when he did that. I enjoyed whiskey as much as the next guy, but who the fuck can chug it like a Coke? I laid my head back against the makeup chair and closed my eyes, trying to get the screaming crowd out of my head so I could think straight.

Joey interrupted my meditation. "I'm meeting with Noah Russo's manager next week. I gotta good feeling about this," he cheered. He always said that when he thought he was on the brink of a financial breakthrough.

I had another show here tomorrow night, so I was in no rush to get back on the bus so soon. Dustin and I made plans to go clubbing tonight to celebrate the start of the tour. He probably wanted to get laid, which wasn't unusual. I wasn't really in the mood to bring some girl back but the groupies always came in pairs, so I'd take one for the team.

Eventually, after properly pregaming and getting a nice buzz, we left the venue and called for a driver. I could hear Dustin talking beside me as we waited on the bus, but I wasn't paying any attention.

All I could think about was how shit of a performance I put on tonight. The fans didn't deserve me at my worst, I worked too hard for that. I was somewhat of a perfectionist at this point, so I hated not excelling on something as major as my fucking job.

"Think we can find some Molly?" Dustin asked, scrolling on his phone while sipping a beer.

"Probably," I said, though I didn't know. Clubs were usually crawling with tweakers and dealers, it was just harder to pinpoint them when you weren't in LA. "I hope so."

And we did. The driver came along after that and we rode to the club, where we got absolutely shitfaced. I was approached by a girl who looked suspiciously like my little sister who held a baggy in her hand, three little blue pills inside. I pulled her over to Dustin and we all dropped Molly . . .