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"SUPER STAR ACE ARRESTED EARLY THIS MORNING—"
"POP STAR ACE FOUND WITH DRUGS AND ALCOHOL SPEEDING DOWN THE HIGHWAY— PASSENGER IN CRITICAL CONDITION."
"IS THIS THE END OF SINGER ACE?"
"What in the hell?" Victoria was the first to speak.
The TV volume was low, but it didn't matter. The words felt loud enough to rattle my bones.
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I gasped seeing Ace's mug shot be plastered everywhere. His face had a couple of scars but he still looked perfect.
There were shallow cuts along his cheek and jaw. His eyes—God—his eyes looked empty. Not defiant. Not cocky. Just... gone.
Like he'd been hollowed out.
My breath hitched sharply and I pressed my hand to my mouth.
"What in the hell..." Victoria whispered beside me.
"That's not him," I said immediately, shaking my head. "Something's wrong. I know it is."
Court, Frankie, and Victoria all sat beside me.
I didn't look away from the tv. I couldn't.
Because my chest felt like it was collapsing inward, folding in on itself until there was barely room to breathe.
Ace wasn't reckless like that, not like this. Sure he drank and partied. But the speeding and the drugs, the public self-destruction on a highway like he didn't care whether he lived or died.
My phone buzzed violently in my hand.
The screen lit up.
Scooter Braun.
My heart skipped, then slammed hard against my ribs.
Frankie looked at the name and immediately straightened. "That's him."
