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“Anyone volunteering to share tonight?” Toni asks.

Florence does her best not to look at Luca as she says, “Miray and I can share.”

Miray, bless her, nods right away.

After spending all day in the car, they’re keen to stretch their legs a bit. Florence feels dazed as they wander through the 19th arrondissement. The streets aren’t the postcard-pretty Paris she’s seen in films, but she loves them all the same. Even with a distinct lack of limestone buildings, it’s enough to know they’re here, in another country, nearer to the Eiffel Tower than she’s ever been, simply because someone liked their music.

For dinner, they get pizza at a hole-in-the-wall two streets away from where they’re staying—trying to place the order quickly brings Florence to the limits of her school-learned French—before heading back to the hostel. Florence removes her makeup sitting cross-legged on the carpet, using wipes and her small hand mirror while the others take turns showering. Luca is the last one to emerge. Steam wafts out behind her as she steps out of the bathroom wearing low-slung pajama pants and a white T-shirt that says ALPHA MALE.

In the low light from one of the bedside lamps, Florence can make out the flush on her cheeks, the drops of water still clinging to her lashes. “Careful,” she says as she holds the door for Florence. “It gets really hot really fast.”

Florence, mouth dry, gives a small nod and slips past her into the bathroom. The misty air still smells like Luca’s shampoo. Florence takes shallow breaths and makes quick work of showering and washing her hair, yelping when the water turns from pleasantly warm to scorching in a heartbeat. From outside, she can hear Izzy cackling.

By the time she crawls into bed with Miray, the others are already tucked in. Luca is in the top bunk above her, which is good because it means that Florence only has Toni to look at. Miray shifts so she’s almost pressed against the wall, making sure that Florence has enough of the blanket. They’ve been sharing beds since they were kids, so it’s easy to curl up beside her, Florence’s knees pressed to the backs of Miray’s like a familiar puzzle.

Toni turns off the last light. In the dark, the breathing of five people becomes deafening. Light from the street below filters in around the edges of the curtains. A group of men in the hallway is talking loudly in French.

“We’re going to open for Juno Wilde tomorrow,” Florence whispers.

“Yeah,” Izzy says.

“People are going to hear us.”

The bed creaks as Luca shifts above them. “Mm-hm.”

“This could be the part where everything changes.”

“Florence,” Toni says. “Go to sleep.”

Florence exhales. There’s some rustling before Miray’s hand finds hers, squeezing. Florence presses a smile into her pillow and wills her body to sleep.

Interview with Jeffrey Blake on Fuse Radio, August 10, 1992

Interviewer: And we’re here, live at Glastonbury with Jeffrey Blake. You also performed here last year. Since then your career has skyrocketed. How does it feel being back?

Jeffrey: Incredible. Incredible, yeah. I don’t think I’d be where I am now without that show last year.

Interviewer: And what a show it was. Tell me, looking back, what do you think—what was it about that show that made the world fall in love with you?

Jeffrey: I think . . . Presence is everything. People don’t always understand art, but they understand charisma.

Interviewer: The rain probably helped too.

Jeffrey: A little bit, maybe.

Interviewer: [Laughs.] How do you come about that confidence? You’re . . . what, twenty-four now? But there’s this self-assuredness about you that I think draws people in. Have you always been this way, or was it something you had to learn?

Jeffrey: Oh, I’ve always been like this. In this industry, you’ve got to believe in yourself. No one else will. I think everyone is here for a purpose, and mine is music. I know that this is what I’m made for. When you have that conviction, there’s nothing anyone can say to make you doubt yourself.

Interviewer: Was there ever a plan B in case this didn’t work out?

Jeffrey: No.

Interviewer: No?

Jeffrey: I knew I was going to make it. You can’t go into this with a plan B. You’ve got to have a hunger that gives you no other option but to succeed.

Interviewer: Well, you’ve certainly got that hunger. [Laughs.] Do you think there’ll ever be a point where you’ll be satisfied? Where you’ll look out at a crowd and think, “This is it, I’ve made it”?