Page 21 of Before the Encore

She needed a distraction. A coffee. Anything to shake off the weird, fuzzy feeling itching beneath her ribs.

Chapter Six

Madison

Madison leaned closer to Bonnie, breathing in her sweet scent: honey and vanilla and something else that Madison couldn’t place. She aimed her best smile towards Bonnie’s social media manager acting as a fake paparazzi. Madison placed her hand on Bonnie’s waist, and she shoved it up to her ribs.

“Higher,” Bonnie ground out through gritted teeth.

“Lower!” Bailey insisted, clacking as he rolled chewing gum around his mouth.

Bonnie’s publicist, Carmen, sighed, rubbing her forehead. Since Bonnie’s reluctant agreement, it’d been a long day of practicing for the upcoming interviews. How to sit, what to say, what not to say, how to fucking breathe correctly. Now, Madison needed schooling on how to stand and ‘appropriately’ touch Bonnie to gain the ‘suitable’ amount of exposure at the premiere later this evening. The flock of professionals crowding Bailey’s office were taking this far too seriously.

If anyone knew how to create a storm, it was her.

She sighed. “Surely, I should just lay one on her at this red-carpet event. That’ll get people talking, won’t it?”

Scarlett giggled from the back of the room, and Madison cast a wink at her.

“I am not kissing you.” Bonnie swivelled her head, eyes wide. “It’s fake dating for a reason, Madison.”

Roberto dabbed his sweaty head with a napkin. Madison looked around the room, searching for approval, but found none.

She really missed her bandmates. They’d been dismissed, allowed to explore LA, and Madison was stuck here in a boring office, with blinding overhead lights and a bunch of fun sponges.

Carmen straightened her white blazer, pressing her lips together. Her strong brows flattened into her practiced composed expression, which meant Madison was about to be politely scolded. “The goal here is less to prove the two of you are dating, but to give fans enough pieces to connect the dots themselves. If we jump the gun, then the buzz will die down. We want to get people talking.”

“Right. So, what is the sweet spot?” Madison held Bonnie’s hip. “Here?”

“Higher!—”

“—Lower!”

Carmen crossed the room, sliding Madison’s hand to a safe middle-ground that felt far too platonic in her experience. Disappointing. Especially as this was the most physical contact she’d be getting from any woman in the near future. It had been made very clear by the managers, bandmates and particularly Bonnie, that any wayward romantic endeavours would be career ending.

Bailey cut her an amused glance, chewing gum rolling around his open mouth. The man seemed full of talk, but Madison had better not risk it. For her friends’ sake, she could behave herself.

She flashed a dazzling grin towards the fake paparazzi, tightening her grip on Bonnie’s waist. “Got it. What’s next?”

* * *

As soon as Madison stepped out the car, cameras flashed in her face, blinding her. She held out her hand for Bonnie to take, letting her gaze drag over Bonnie’s floor-length lilac gown before forcing it away. Madison’s head spun as people called out, cameras shuttering. She grinned, her heart thumping hard in her chest.

How is this real?

She didn’t have an apartment or a car—but she was walking the red carpet of the latest Kacey Kristie film in a black Saint Laurent suit that would cost more than those things put together. It was a shame her outfit had been loaned; she could finally stop sharing a cramped apartment with Kam…or buy a gorgeous vintage Gibson.

“Over here!”

“Bonnie, look right!”

Bonnie posed effortlessly, the satin fabric resting off her shoulders, sweeping elegantly across her chest in a stylish draping effect. A high slit cut up one side, and Madison had to make a conscious effort not to stare.

She stood as celebrities chatted within a stone’s throw of her, journalists and paparazzi circling like predators. Her feet stuck to the red carpet. Without Kam and Frank, her armour slipped, doubts pricking the back of her mind.

A million eyes were on her. Everyone would see this. Her teachers, her exes, her own mother. “A deadbeat, heartless, fuck-up.”

Bonnie leaned close, hissing, “Madison, come on.”