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“You don’t have to tell me,” I say and I close my eyes.
I can already feel it: I want it. I want Greece. I want to play in Greece. Too bad it’s impossible.
“Announce it,” Spence says quietly, but with authority in his voice. “You’ll sell out within a few hours, I promise you.”
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
He freezes, one arm in its sleeve and one out. “You… you will?” He looks like he’s about to cry with gratitude. If that’s what falling in love with a country does to you, I shudder to think what falling in love with an actual girl would.
Although, of course, know. And it ain’t pretty.
“Dude, you literally just told me to do it.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think you… I didn’t think you’d actually agree. You know I’d give you my boat anyway. I’d cut out my arm and give it to you.”
“No need for an arm just yet. Just the boat, please. And Athens. If I get out of it alive, you’ll owe me big time.”
He visibly relaxes. I grit my teeth. Finally, I have a plan.
I may be creatively blocked, but this? This I can do.
His arm goes into the sleeve and he flashes me a brilliant smile.
“Wrong again,” he says. “You’ll fall in love with Greece too, and then you’ll owemebig time. See you in Corfu, Isaiah.”
Fall in love with Greece, he says. But he doesn’t know… That’s already happened. And I’m not just in love with Greece already. It’smyGreece. It belongs to me. But to actually go there and work… That’s a whole other thing than readingEleniand Euripides in Malibu, isn’t it?
“Cheers, mate,” Wes says and he hangs up.
I close my eyes in the sudden silence that engulfs me. Now that I’ve given my word, a strange calmness overtakes me. I know the conversation with Skye will be a nightmare and I don’t even want to think about what it will take to persuade the label to do what I want.
But for a second, these things don’t matter.
For a second, I close my eyes and imagine it. Greece.
My Greece.
Being there sounds like heaven. It sounds like pure, endless escape.
It sounds like if I went there, maybe, just maybe, I would no longer hate my life—for a couple of months at least. It also sounds like freaking hard work, but for once, I’m determined to ask my team for something. I’m determined to fight for this.
So I start making calls, right then and there.
Skye laughs at me first, and then, when I continue to press him, he gets angry. Skye never gets angry, which means he’s freaked out. But he loves me too much to say no. Eventually, defeated, he hangs up and goes to my producers. They fight for about seven hours in the conference room.
The next day, they let it leak that there might be an Athens tour stop on all our platforms, online and everywhere else. There is a secret link for people to pre-save their tickets before they are up for sale. It was the only way the producers would agree to such a crazy move—Skye said they wanted to see if there would be ‘enough interest first’.
I guess we’ll find out now.
It turns out that Spencer was wrong. The stadium has seventy-five thousand seats, and they don’t sell out within a few hours. They sell out in half an hour through the secret link. Skye, his cheeks white from shock, quickly pushes the team for a second date. We sell that out too.
And… it’s done. Athens has officially joined the EuropeanHeartbreakertour. In fact, the only place they could add it was the beginning of the tour, so Athens is opening the tour. I sit back after the adrenaline rush of watching the tickets sell so fast as if they were disappearing into thin air, and a huge smile splits my face.
I haven’t smiled like this in weeks. Years, maybe.
After I’m done smiling like an idiot, I try to take stock of the situation. What have I done? Has Spencer made me as crazy as he is? Possibly. Probably.
Whatever the reason, here is what I have to work with:
