Reality

Chapter 3

"Hey, Joslyn! Is Addison almost ready?" Greg asks me in passing in the middle of the busy backstage hallway. One thing I admire about Greg, Addison's manager, is his chipper, genuine personality. He hasn't been in the industry for long, not tainted by it yet I'm assuming, and I hope he always stays that way.

"Yeah. I checked on her twenty minutes ago and her stylist was just finishing up. I'm on my way to go get her now," I reassure him with a smile.

Addison is due on stage in about fifteen minutes, still needing to be mic'd up. It's my job to get her out of her dressing room and to the back of the stage to get ready.

"Perfect. You're the best!" He flashes me a thumbs up before hurriedly walking back down the hallway.

Smiling, I shake my head at his enthusiasm and briskly head down the hallway in the opposite direction to go get Addison. Reaching her door, I knock three times before entering after hearing no noise of protest. Opening the door, I find Addison isn't alone in her room. She's pressed against a wall by a man, their lips locked in a heavy make out session.

By now, this isn't a totally unusual sight. Addison is a young, rising popstar, seemingly on top of the world right now. It's obvious she has plenty of male suitors, why wouldn't she? She's gorgeous, in her early twenties, talented. The list goes on and on. So finding her with a new fling every other week is nothing new. I can't necessarily blame her for taking advantage of her new found fame and having a little fun with all the attention. But the man she's with right now catches me completely off guard, my breath catching in my throat.

The man has broad shoulders, the width of them expanded due to his hands being pressed to the wall on either side of her head, weight resting in his palms as he leans down towards her. The simple black T-shirt he wears accentuates his lean but fit figure as the ends of his shaggy dark brown hair flirt with the collar. The ends that aren't clinched in Addison's hands at least.

At a loss for words, some sort of straggled sound involuntarily comes from the back of my throat, catching their attention.

"Oh, sorry, Joslyn." Addison detaches her eager lips from his, shooting me a sheepish smile over his now very tense shoulder. "Is it almost show time?" she asks, ducking out from underneath his arm.

He stays rigid against the wall, palms still holding his weight, but in a completely different manner, like he just braced some sort of blow. I see his shoulders rise in a deep breath before he lets his hands fall, slowly turning around to lock his icy blue troubled eyes with mine.

"Joslyn?" Addison asks impatiently.

"I-I..." the words catch in my throat under his steely gaze.

His face initially shows signs of shock, but then his emotion slips to one of indifference. But if I look closely, underneath the surface, I can see anger bubbling behind his eyes that are growing colder by the second.