Page 13 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

I settled in a chair facing the monitor with my croissant and watched Hayley introduce Del. Apparently, he’d made a million quid by the age of 21 playing the stock market and wrote a book about it.

Hell, I’d made a million quid by the age of 21 and could probably make several million more if I wrote a book about my time with Five2—but I valued my friendships too much to try.

Just as the segment ended, Ashley crashed through the door, a string of curses on her lips. “It’s not my fault, Noelle. My stylist fucked up. Brought me something I was not going to wear in a million years. Even you wouldn’t have worn it, Noelle.”

“Whatever.” Noelle rolled her eyes at me. “You both need to get to the stage door, and there’s been a change of plan. Due to Ashley’s...stylist, they changed the program from two performances to a joint one. You’ll be singing the duet you guys did a few years back.”

I nearly choked on my croissant. “By a few years back, do you mean four years ago?”

“I had to make amends. The crowd out front won’t care, and you’ll have time to mention your most recent album, Conor.” Noelle mouthed the word sorry to me.

Ashley snorted Diet Coke out her nose. “You mean the one that peaked at 63 on the charts?”

“It’s better than...”

Noelle shot me a pointed look, and I trailed off. That’s all this tour, and Noelle, needed—the co-headliners at each other’s throats—when we were supposed to be hot for each other.

I zipped my lip and dropped my half-eaten croissant on the plate. “Lead the way.”

On the way to the stage, we stopped at the studio. The show was on a commercial break, so we chatted with Hayley and Calvin, a former US footballer and Hayley’s co-host for the week.

Hayley flashed her famous dimples. “Perfect. We’ll do a quick intro to the performance, and then you two can go out there and tame the feral beast that is the Five2Go fandom.”

Ashley sent Haley a blistering look from beneath her half-mast eyelids. Ever the professional, Hayley made a smooth recovery. “And of course we have a strong contingent of A-Bens too. Haven’t heard this much screaming since Calvin whipped off his jersey and threw a football.”

Production herded us outside, and Hayley and Calvin took the stage first, while Ashley and I stayed out of sight. I squinted at the stage and counted the musicians in place. Didn’t seem like they had enough instruments to cover our duet, “Love Me Again.” I guess we could do a pared down version, although I didn’t have high hopes for Ashley's voice these days. She’d even admitted she had trouble hitting notes in the morning.

This was definitely morning.

Hayley introduced us, and she hadn’t been lying about the Five2 contingent. I’d recognize those screams anywhere.

Ashley flounced onto the stage first and whispered something to the band. Waving to the crowd, I followed her as the opening chords of our song blasted from the speakers.

I grabbed a mic and opened my mouth to sing the familiar lines of our duet—the only one of my songs outside of the group that hit number one—as Ashley kindly pointed out to me earlier.

My voice boomed from the stage, but I hadn’t sung one note. I’d been tricked into a lip-synching performance.

How the hell could Noelle have done me so dirty?

Chapter 4

NOELLE

I covered my mouth as Conor’s pre-recorded voice surged over the crowd. Had the fans even noticed? I scanned the women pressing against the base of the stage, singing the words with Conor—when they weren’t screaming. They didn’t have a clue.

But Conor did.

When Ashley’s part chimed in, Conor moved to the music, waved to fans in the audience, and even smiled...but he was wearing his fake smile. His blue eyes were shooting sparks, laser bolts, actually—and a few of those landed on me.

He couldn’t possibly believe I had anything to do with this. Except you’re the PR rep, Noelle.

Because of Ashley’s tardiness, production told me they’d have to cut the solo songs and go with the duet, but nobody told me they’d be piping in the music instead of going live.

I nudged Hayley, interrupting her fangirl moment, and cupped my hand around my mouth. “I thought this was a live event.”

Shrugging, she said, “That’s up to production. Not my role.”

She ended the sentence on a scream, as the music slowed and Conor and Ashley drew close to mouth the final lines of the song, gazing into each other’s eyes. Was I the only one who saw the murderous glint in Conor’s?