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He was definitely a charming man, especially with people he'd just met. In fact, that was where he shone, with random people who only knew the surface. When they didn't get close enough to see the dark swamp of crap that hovered just below. That's what made him a star, that instant connection to people. Well, that and the music. But it made him a shit person in the longer term.

Maybe I was being unfair. He wasn’t a bad person to other people.

Violet saw me enter and came over, the questions burning on her face. Of course, she had questions. After what had happened earlier, the questions had to be scorching. I'd sure as hell have questions for anyone else if they’d done something like I’d done.

Her eyes shone bright and I was thankful that the love spark in her made her less likely to pry too much into my business. We were friends but even then, I didn't want her delving too deeply into aspects of my life. I didn't like to parade my pain in public. I was much better at giving advice than taking it.

"I used to go out with him, we can leave it at that." I didn't want to get into a discussion about it.

I looked her in the eye as I said it, trying to convey that it was nothing, he meant nothing but, after my outburst, I couldn't brush off my feelings that easily. Punching someone in the face makes it difficult to pretend you don't care.

"Sorry, Carls. If it makes you uncomfortable, we won't talk to him. I'll tell Razer to get away."

I shook my head. I couldn't make someone not talk to him. A famous rock star comes into a rock bar and people want to talk to him. He'd have a hundred stories, all spun out for maximum amusement and polished to a shine for an occasion just like this. The air of success hung around him like a shining light. People would always want a piece of that.

"It's fine. I just wish he'd left earlier. I was hoping he'd be gone before I got back. I need to get my head together."

Violet laughed. "You know why he's here."

If she thought he was here to see me, she was sorely mistaken. To torture me, maybe. To show me what a huge success he'd become and rub that in my face, maybe. But anything else was just her love-addled brain seeing illusions.

“I’m just going to ignore him,” I said.

But that was easier said than done when the whole bar buzzed around him like he was the sun at the center of the solar system.

“You’ll have to serve him when you start your shift,” she said.

That was the problem. He'd order a drink and I'd have to look at him. He'd pass me his money, making sure our hands touched, just lightly. That was the way he played it. It'd be an hour until the other staff started work so it was just me behind the bar with no way out of this.

“I could get Mark to take over my shift.”

Violet nodded at Mark. “He’s not leaving his new buddy. He thinks Holden’s his best friend now but I’m not sure Holden is as keen.”

Just the way his name came out so easily in her conversation made me feel a twinge. But there was no way out of this. He’d wedged his way into my life in just a few short hours. I needed to unwedge him somehow.

I put my apron back on.

"I did set up since I wasn't sure if you'd be back," Mark called to me. "And I cleaned up your mess."

“Big fucking whoop. I do set up every single night while you just breeze in and start your shift.”

He owed me some major set up debt but I never belly-ached about it. He was just big-noting himself, like he actually cared about how things ran around here. Mark could die. He could fall down dead off his bar stool. If he hadn’t encouraged Holden, Holden probably would've left by now and I'd not have this sick, wrenching feeling in my gut.

“Well, some of us have other things to do besides hang out here and play Galaga.”

“Carlie goes to the gym,” said Violet.

I wasn’t sure if that was some attempt to make me seem more interesting but I had no shame about it. I wasn’t interesting. I wasn’t fun. But I was surviving until now.

“She sure does,” Holden replied. And, even though I didn’t look, I knew he was rubbing his jaw again.

The music on the stereo buzzed too loud and the lights made my head ache. Maybe I should just chuck a sickie and go home. These weren't conditions I could work in. I could curl up in bed, well away from the bar, and forget that Holden King ever existed. Because that had worked so well for me in the past.

I grabbed a drink and checked that Mark had set everything up properly. He always moved things around when we had a system. If the lemon slices were in the wrong place, I had to waste time searching for them. And he always put the tongs in weird places.

I wouldn't go home. I wouldn't let Holden see how much he rattled me. I could act like this was just any old night for me.

Which it was.

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