“Come live on the Gold Coast with me. Let’s just do it.”

Eden was shocked. “Willow, I can’t!”

“You can, you get gigs on the Gold Coast; they’ve got heaps of clubs and I’ll put you in touch with Triple J—see if we can get ‘Break My Mind’ onto the hottest one hundred countdown. That’ll help heaps! And if you don’t want to live together, I’ll buy you an apartment by the water. You said you wanted to learn to surf and…”

Eden stopped listening. She could hear Lydia. Sloan loves famous girls. Not as famous as him though.

He was doing it again. Trying to get her on Beth’s podcast—or the equivalent of it. She pressed her fingertips to his mouth, cutting him off.

“I fucking…” she swallowed. “I fucking like you, but I’m going on tour. It’s just something I need to do. I told you that from the start.”

He looked away, lips trembling, and Eden wanted to lie. To tell him something stupid and convenient, but some part of her was braver than that.

“I know what we have is special,” she said. “But we haven’t been together long enough to change our futures for each other.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “We have.”

“But you’re not changing for me. You’re asking me to change for you.”

Silence fell between them, and Eden felt like she’d cut some irreparable cord. She listened as Francis transitioned to a remix of ‘The Summer of ‘69.’

“I think you’re the one,” Willow said quietly. “The only woman for me.”

Eden wanted to be happy, but all she could think of was Lydia. How was she supposed to know if any of this was real?

“I mean it.” He kissed her hand. “I told Psycho the morning after we met. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you this whole time.”

Eden crawled off his lap, horrified. It was like he’d produced a hand grenade and whipped out the pin. “You love me?”

“Of course.”

Her head spun. “But you said we should have a fake relationship. You acted like… and this whole time you’ve been in love with me?”

Willow ran his fingers through his hair. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it now. Sorry.”

Eden stood, her whole body shaking. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend to be your girlfriend and I can’t keep being your girlfriend. I wanna be alone.”

“Eden, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking as fresh tears blurred her vision. “I just can’t.”

She turned and ran, returning to the crowd as fast as her drunk legs could carry her. She ran smack bang, into a wall of flesh. “Sorry,” she said, stumbling back. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.”