AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I'll remember that."
"Let's go, Drea," Brandon grips her arm, and a low growl escapes me.
Brandon loosens his hold, and her cunning eyes lock on mine. She mumbles what sounds like thank you.
I nod, knowing I can't just let her walk away.
She lets go of my hands slowly, almost as if it hurts. Looking down at her, I notice that the hair on her arms has risen as well.
"Bye."
"See you soon," I say, watching her leave, knowing that my words are not a goodbye.
Instead, I think of them as a promise.
CHAPTER FOUR
ANDREA
"Drea, are you all right?" Brandon's eyes meet mine, his face etched with concern, powerless to dispel my dark mood.
"No."
I lie in bed, the curtains drawn, enveloped in darkness. The question hangs in the stale air.
Are you all right?
Of course, I'm not alright, you idiot. I haven't left this room in days. But Brandon doesn't care how I feel, only about maintaining his control. His presence looms over me, suffocating. I can sense his impatience, his desire to force me back into the spotlight on his terms.
My throat tightens as dread washes over me.
I flip onto my stomach, yanking the blanket over my head to block the intrusive light spilling in from the cracked bedroom door.
After the Club Allure concert, the tabloids descended like ravenous vultures. They’ve speculated about what might have happened between Logan and I backstage, since someone shared that we talked backstage before he opened the show.
Overnight, this insignificant exchange with Logan has snowballed into a full-blown scandal, haunting me relentlessly. As if I need to give them a reason to splatter my name and likeness across the internet.
My phone buzzes incessantly, notifications flooding in, but I can't bear to look. Social media is a minefield, every feed dissecting my interaction with Logan, twisting the brief conversation into something sordid.
I exhale shakily, my heart pounding against my ribs as the memory of Friday night floods over me. Logan's eyes blaze with fury as he takes a step towards me, his fists clenched at his sides.
But then Damien is there, his solid frame shielding me. His predatory growl, and jaw clenched tight.
Logan froze, muscles coiled like a viper poised to strike. For a moment, the air crackled with tension so thick I could barely breathe. My lungs constrict as I'm transported back to that night, trapped between two forces threatening to tear me apart.
All I want is to sing, to lose myself in the soaring melodies and pulsing rhythms that have been my refuge since childhood. The music is my sanctuary, the one place where I can be truly free.
But Logan lives for the scandal, the media frenzy, thriving on the chaos he creates. I wouldn't be surprised if he leaked that moment to the press.
Because he's a pyromaniac, and I'm the tinder he can never resist igniting.
That night I thought everything went better than expected. The show was amazing, and then there was Damien…
Talking with him felt normal.
But afterward, the whispers have growm into roars, our past dragged out and rewritten as some tumultuous saga. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing the world would swallow its baseless assumptions.
Evidently, no one has gotten the story right, because there were only three of us that night in the concert hallway.
