I tried to watch some of the interviews we’d done, but all I heard were our lies and all I saw was Jared’s fake stage smile. Even worse, someone had recorded the entire fight between the two of us with their phone and posted it online. One of the roadies, it had to be. I watched it over and over, alternating between regretting everything I’d said to Jared and getting angry at him all over again. This time I didn’t read the comments under the video though. I’d learned my lesson on that at least.

But the videos that hurt the most, and the ones I watched a thousand times, were the ones capturing behind-the-scenes moments of all of us. The guys joking around in rehearsal, being silly on our breaks, wrestling and grabbing each other for goofy man-hugs. That time when we’d switched instruments and I’d banged on Hector’s drums. Dan coaching me on my stage presence and my wardrobe.

And Jared—laughing at something Kyle had said or bent over his bass with a look of concentration or practicing the same lyric a hundred different ways to get it right. Those videos were the only ones that showed the genuine Jared, and I couldn’t stop torturing myself with them. I missed the way his true smile lit up his face, the way his real laugh burst out of him like it was a surprise every time. But I doubted I’d ever see that Jared again.

I heard one of the girls wheel her suitcase into the apartment, but I couldn’t get out of bed. What was the point? Besides, moving sounded like a lot of effort, and my head pounded like someone was kicking me in the skull over and over. Last night I’d discovered a secret stash of vodka in the kitchen and might have gone a little overboard. Not that it mattered, since I had nowhere to be anyway.

“Maddie?” Julie called.

“Here,” I replied. Ow, too loud, so much pain.

“Why are you here? Isn’t there a week of the show left?” Her voice got closer as she moved through the apartment. “Hey, since you’re home, I need you to try on your Harley Quinn costume so I can do the final adjustments. Comic-Con is only in two weeks. Can you believe it?”

I covered my face with a pillow and groaned. I couldn’t wear that costume now; it would only remind me of Jared. Not to mention, I was never getting out of bed again.

“Maddie?” She knocked on my door. “Can I come in?”

I gave a noise that sounded like “unngghh,” and she opened the door and sat beside me on the bed.

“Wow, you reek. Have you been drinking?”

I moaned under the pillow. “I’m never touching vodka ever again.”