As I stroll behind my new family out of the Regency’s lobby a few minutes later, I pass a small cluster of my fans, who are perched sleepily on armchairs with I LOVE YOU, STAR! signs propped up on their laps, apparently waiting to catch a glimpse of me. I even hear one of them muttering that I’m too high maintenance to come down and see my fans. Whatever. I hold my breath and try to slow my pounding heart as I saunter casually by. A few of them glance my way, but unbelievably, no one seems to know me. I feel strangely free as I step outside, fall back from my new “family” as they turn down the street and wait for the Regency’s valet to hail me a cab.

As I ask the driver to take me to the bus station, I realize I’ve passed my first test. I exhale loudly. I’ve slipped out of my own hotel, past a handful of my devoted fans, and no one realized it was me.

My nervous energy gives way to a nagging question in the pit of my stomach. Is Ben right? Am I doing the right thing? I don’t know. In less than an hour, I’ve made a decision to walk away from the only life I’ve ever known. Maybe it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.

Either way, I’m free. For once in my life, I’m not Star Beck. Until this moment, I never fully realized how much I was dying to be someone—anyone—other than me.

Chapter 7

Let it go (oh, oh, oh),
I’m moving on;
Yesterday is so yesterday—
I’m walking into tomorrow.

—“IF I FALL,” STAR BECK
ALBUM: THIS LIFE

Chapter 7

One of the lights is flickering eerily outside Port Authority as I hoist my tote bag over my shoulder and head inside. I gulp, blink and try to steel myself. This is the right thing to be doing. It has to be. I try to ignore the pang of guilt inside me as I think about how worried everyone will be when they realize I’m gone.

My hat pulled low over my face and my glasses still perched on my nose, I follow the signs to the bus counter. I approach the window, where an agent is flipping through a magazine. She looks up lazily as I approach.

“Can I help you?” she asks in a thick accent I can’t quite identify. I take a deep breath.

“I need a ticket to Florida,” I say. “St. Petersburg.”

She stares at me for a moment.