Page 10 of Before the Encore

Bonnie tightened the grip of her fingers, digging into her flesh. If they both made it to the studio alive, it would be a miracle.

“Do you have a drink?” Madison asked.

Bonnie caught her eyeing up her smoothie in the holder. She smacked her outstretched hand. “Don’t even think about it.” She told her, “There’s some in the fridge.”

Madison quirked an eyebrow. “In the…fridge?”

“Do I have to do everything?” She huffed, tugging at the centre console. It lowered, revealing several bottles of water in a separate compartment.

“Woah.” Madison leaned closer, like it concealed a portal to another universe. Bonnie wished it did, so she could shove the annoying woman in it and be done with this whole mess. “Do you have anything other than water?”

“You have eyes, don’t you?” she snapped. Anger pulsed at her temple, and she sucked a deep breath in.

Don’t let her get to you.

“Okay, jeez.” Madison plucked one from the compartment, condensation running down the bottle. “Someone took an extra bitch pill today,” she muttered.

“Excuse me?” Heat licked up her spine.

Minnie glanced at them in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised.

“I’m just saying.” Madison unscrewed the cap and took long, deep swallows, her throat bobbing until the bottle emptied. She gasped, a drop running down her chin. “Oof, that’s good. My head’s pounding.”

“You can’t seriously think I’m the problem here.” Bonnie shook her head in disbelief. “I find you on the street like a clueless child, wearing last night’s clothes with some stranger’s lipstick all over you, stinking of booze, and you think I’m the bitch?”

Madison laughed. “You have heard of having fun, right?”

“This isn’t fun, Madison.” Her voice raised against her will. “It’s stupidity. If I hadn’t seen you, you’d have missed this session. Don’t you get how important this is? I’ve had eleven years in this industry. You can’t turn up late to a recording session with Evan Danso. It’s not cool or ‘rock’ or whatever; it’s unprofessional. It’s disrespectful. And that will hurt you.”

Madison held her gaze. Tension hardened her jaw.

“Even if you don’t care about my career—which you clearly don’t—what about your bandmates? Don’t you care about them?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then act like it.” Her words cut the air like a blade.

Madison didn’t look away. The black eyeliner smudged around her eyes made her swirling blue irises electric, even with bloodshot sclera. Her brows pinched together. She chewed at her cheek.

Then she softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Out of everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, that was the most surprising.

“What?”

Madison dusted her blue-powdered fingers on her jeans. “You’re right. I’m being a bitch. I fucked up last night, and I knew it. I don’t know my way around the city, my phone died, and truthfully, I would’ve been buggered if you hadn’t have shown up when you did.” She let out a heavy breath like it was painful to admit.

Bonnie opened and closed her mouth like a fish. The adrenaline surging through her veins lingered, her fight and flight engaged, ready to shake some sense into Madison, but then…this. She didn’t know what to say.

Her driver broke the silence instead. “We’ve arrived right on schedule, Bonnie.”

She didn’t take her eyes off Madison as the car slowed to a stop. “Thank you.”

The engine’s soft purr filled the quiet. Neither of them moved. Bonnie felt Minnie’s watchful eyes in the mirror, but she couldn’t look away from the slight crook in Madison’s nose, and how that somehow endeared her.

“Well…this is a little awkward.” Madison scratched at her collarbone before snapping upright. “Oh, shit. Did I get all the lipstick off?” She leaned closer to Bonnie, tilting her head back and exposing her neck.

The remnants of Madison’s cologne floated into her space. Smokey. Warm.