The images have merged with my memories, and even though I don’t know the tortured eyes and hard-set jaw of the musician a few feet away, it feels like I should. Like I have this sliver of my soul that suddenly feels foreign inside me. The memories of who he was not lining up with who he is.

When I look up, his gaze meets mine in the tinted glass. Then it happens. The buzz of excitement gives way to the tug. A tug that drags me under and into the words and hurt lurking beneath the surface between us. Foster holds me hostage there, and something tells me he plans to keep me under the entire tour.

6

FOSTER

Our first tour, we spent eight weeks camping out of the back of a van. Driving around in the hottest part of summer to open for the opening band. Most nights, Colton—who played one hell of a roadie in the beginning—would be half passed out on the bare ground while I slurred every word and told him every dream of what my first headlining tour would be. Sold-out venues, screaming fans. He’d always crack an eye open and add, “Hotel parties we’ll never remember.”

Then one song played by the right person at the right time, an influencer slapping it onto a video, lip-syncing my words, and all the far-flung dreams lightning struck into reality. Except I remember each moment of the past few years.

Also, neither one of us ever imagined it’d be a world tour, or we’d wrap it up by crossing the continental US entirely on a fucking bus.

Even as I shake my head, a thrill tingles in my fingertips as I stare at the ostentatious wrap on the side of the massive tour bus. Black with red accents and a ridiculously large image of my face, Dev and Felix only slightly smaller on either side.

“Not tacky or over-the-top in the least,” I mutter.

When I hear the pop of gum, I glance out of the corner of my eye. The tiny blonde beside me rolls her eyes. For as annoyed as Lee looks at the moment, the gleam in her eyes lets on how fascinated she is seeing one of her acts blown up in vinyl. I let my mouth tip up on one side, which seems to have the usual thawing effect on my agent.

She heads inside the label’s building with a less irritated head shake. I stay a little longer. Let my gaze trail from one end of the bus to the other one more time.

Lee has a strappy heel planted to hold the door when I reach the elevator. Leaning on the railing beside her, I hang my head back and close my eyes, enjoying a brief reprieve from the chaos of nonstop rehearsals and interviews over the past few weeks. A break from the tour rarely means slowing down.