He slid his hand down her arm and kept it there. She wanted to shake off the hand, she wanted to call for help, but a), she didn’t want Cam to know any of this was happening, and b), she was still holding the beer and she didn’t want to attract attention and get arrested for underage drinking, which would also get Cam in trouble for buying it for her.

“You’re lying,” said the guy. Up close she could see that he was maybe in his late thirties or early forties, younger than Peter, with a stubbly beard and small brown eyes that were set far apart, like the eyes of a snake. “You know what my friends and I call you? Little Miss BTP.” She didn’t want to know what that stood for, but she had a feeling he was going to tell her. “Better than porn.” He licked his lips. “Because you wear those fancy clothes, but all we can think about is what you look like without them.”

Alexa flicked his hand off her arm so hard she was surprised it didn’t hit him in the face, and pushed the bathroom door open. Her heart was racing and her pulse was racing and she felt like she was going to throw up. She’d never been recognized like that before, and it felt more disconcerting and invasive than she’d ever expected that it would. She knew her videos got a lot of eyeballs; if they didn’t, she wouldn’t make any money. But she’d never thought about all of those eyeballs belonging to specific people, to potential perverts or stalkers.

There was so much pot smoke inside the bathroom that Alexa thought she might have gotten high just from walking in there. Alexa dumped her nearly empty beer cup in the trash and joined a woman with frosted hair and frosted lips and frosted nails at the mirror considering her frosted reflection with a sour expression.

“I look like a friggin’ corpse,” the woman said, glancing up at Alexa and then back at the mirror, frowning. “This friggin’ light, why do they have to make it so bright? It’s like, you’re out there dancing, feeling good, then you come in here, and bam. Reality.”

Alexa said, “Amen, sister,” though she herself avoided the mirror, not wanting to see how scared she might look.

“You okay?” said the woman. “Because you look like something just spooked you.” She had a real North Shore accent and a cigarette-addled voice.

“Yeah,” said Alexa. “Fine. Thanks.”

26.

The Squad

Text from Georgia to Rebecca, 6:42 p.m: We R here holding the table

Text from Tammy to Rebecca, 6:57 p.m: Where are U? R U coming? Should we order U a Drink?

Text from Gina to Rebecca, 7:12 p.m: Hello????

27.

Alexa

“You were gone awhile,” said Cam when she made her way back to him. “Everything okay?” The band was taking a break.