The band thinks I betrayed them, and it feels like Xander betrayed me. Given the reactions from Christian and Foster, I’m unsure they’ll even believe me if I try to explain. And then I’m only passing blame to Xander, who’s expected to finish the tour with my crew. A clusterfuck of its own with how Foster acted minutes ago. Everything’s always so delicate between us, and someone just took a hammer to it all.

“Rem,” Xander starts, tone lowering to pacify me, mouth turning down at the corners.

But I’m too upset.

“I can’t talk to you right now.” I back away, arms dropping to my sides. “I’ll see where Glory and Nate want to go for dinner. We’ll fill you in on our process for concerts. We can redistribute the work for tomorrow’s and cover the shot list for the meet and greet in the afternoon.”

His head falls back between his shoulder blades, but I leave him there. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself as I walk away, not even hoping for the best. Only bracing for the worst.

And I’m right to.

After dinner, I board the bus as Felix and Dev are coming through the curtain into the lounge, both carrying their duffel bags. Dev’s jaw sets, Felix immediately lowering his gaze to the floor as soon as they see me.

“I swear I didn’t say anything to the label,” I tell them again. I tried before leaving, but I cut Xander off without the entire story, so I’m missing details. “There was nothing to say. Something got twisted along the way, and I think⁠—”

“Can we get by?” Dev asks, closing in on me.

Part of me wants to refuse. Block them in and make them listen. But with the callousness aimed at me, they won’t hear me. The trust is gone, shattered, like I feared. As much as I hate it, force won’t repair the damage. Not without breaking something elsewhere.

I swallow the sting and move aside. Dev turns his body, inching past like I’m poisonous spikes to avoid. The next blow hits even harder.

Felix follows suit, side-stepping to maintain as much distance as possible between his front and mine. “Excuse me, Remi,” he mumbles.

I’m Remi now. Not Cam Girl.

They stomp down the stairs, and my eyes crush closed.

In a handful of hours, I went from part of the pack to a pariah.

None of the guys will talk to me.

None of them sleep on the bus.

The band, Christian, even Colton—they want nothing to do with me.

* * *

All the stress carries over, ready and waiting for the awkwardness of filming together the next afternoon. We need shots of the meet and greet and fan interactions, and regardless of if they hate me, the documentary needs to stay the priority.