Their second night was better than their first. Even though the venue held the same number of people as the night before, their applause and screams were deafening. In a surprising turn of events, Bristol not only sang during Annie’s set, but she also pulled Annie onstage for one of her own songs. It changed the dynamic of the show.

“Thank you, Las Vegas, for reminding me why I love to sing so much.”

The buses were rolling out at five in the morning to put them in Los Angeles at the arena before noon. That gave her and Annie four hours in the club’s VIP section. When was the last time she let loose and danced her ass off? When was the last time she wanted to? The plan was to meet in Bristol’s penthouse at one. That gave her time to shower and change into appropriate clubbing clothes. What she had on was great but covered in sweat, and tonight she wanted to be fresh and flirtatious. She was certain she had chemistry with Annie, and hopefully tonight she could test out that theory.

“Great job. I really felt the energy,” Lizzy said. She handed Bristol the usual—towel, cold water, and her phone. “You should check out what Dom posted. You were on fire. I bet you’re ready to chill.”

“Actually, I’m ready to hit the club.”

“I thought we agreed you should take it easy tonight.”

Bristol did her best not to snap at Lizzy. “You suggested it. I’ve decided I want to dance.”

Lizzy looked shocked. “I don’t have security in place.”

Bristol looked at the time on her phone. “It’ll take me an hour to get ready. I imagine that’s plenty of time for Bruce to prep the guys.” At Lizzy’s worried look, Bristol lightened her words. “It’ll be fine. They can just do a repeat of last night. I feel great, Lizzy. Let me.” She kissed Lizzy’s cheek. “I’m going to get ready, so I’ll see you later.”

Bristol turned and stepped into line between her security. She ignored the giggles and gasps as she made her way to the private elevators. A part of her wanted to smile at the fans, but her joy was quickly replaced with sadness laced with fear. People didn’t want her. They only wanted to be next to someone, anyone, who could get them more likes on social media.

Phoebe, Annette, and Harper, her stylist, were waiting for her the minute she entered the penthouse. “I was thinking the black pants, boots, and green button-down. You know the one with the shimmer to it. You’ll look hot and be able to dance,” Harper said as Bristol walked to the bathroom.