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I can picture it—a young Andrea, her voice soaring with raw talent, captivating audiences and judges alike. A glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak existence.
"When I was about fifteen or sixteen, Brandon discovered me and got me signed to the label he works with." Her expression hardens, the melancholy replaced by a steely resolve. "Since then, he's kept track of everything and taken care of me."
I detect the slightest tremor in her voice, a crack in the armor she's built around herself. In that moment, I'm struck by her resilience, her unwavering determination to survive against all odds.
But I also sense the weight she carries, the toll her past has taken. And the overwhelming urge to shield her from any further pain or heartbreak takes root.
My fingers itch to reach out, to offer the comfort of a simple touch. But I resist, sensing she needs space to process these raw emotions.
So I sit in silence, letting the weight of her words sink in, marveling at the strength of the woman before me. And though a thousand questions swirl in my mind, I know now is not the time to push.
For now, I'll simply be here, a steady presence in the storm. I sit beside her, listening.
For days this woman haunted me.
Those big, soulful eyes that seem to carry the weight of the world. That pouty mouth that begs to be kissed. The soft waves of her reddish-brown hair cascading over her shoulders.
I couldn't get Andrea out of my head.
In the days since our first meeting at the concert on Friday, I've consumed every video, article, and blog post about her alter ego "Drea Joy" Kingsley. I've watched her music videos on a loop, mesmerized by the raw vulnerability she pours into her performances.
And the more I learn about her, the more I'm drawn in. Like a moth to an irresistible flame.
Part of me wants to run far away. To protect myself from the kind of hurt I experienced with Natalie. That betrayal cut me so fucking deep and left scars that I doubt will ever fully heal.
But another part of me can't stay away. Andrea's music speaks to the desires and emotions I buried long ago.
I listen to her song "Broken" on repeat, letting the haunting melody and achingly honest lyrics wash over me. With every spin, I'm more certain—this woman understands my pain in a way no one else ever could.
Then Ethan brought that security footage of someone sneaking into her dressing room after the show. My blood ran cold seeing the potential threat to her.
In that moment, I knew there was no way I could stay away. She needs me, whether she realizes it yet or not.
I have to protect her. From whoever is stalking her...and from the storm of feelings raging inside me.
My jaw clenches as I remember the smug look on that asshole Brandon's face when I confronted him about the stalker situation. That slimeball is supposed to be her manager, her protector. But all he cares about is money and control.
Well, he's about to learn you don't fuck with what's mine. Andrea may not know it yet, but she belongs to me now.
My fingers flex with the need to pull her into my arms, to shield her from the harsh realities of this cruel world. To make her forget all the pain and heartbreak of her past.
Nothing about the story she's telling me mirrors those shared on social media posts and interviews, nor the details shared by her team when I reached out to book her.
Like a miraculous apparition, Drea Joy seemed to materialize out of thin air. Whenever anyone spoke of her success, they'd mention it blossomed at a tender age, but no one ever delved into her past.
Her story, overall, matches the lyrics printed on her back, the lyrics of her song. ‘Broken’ must be a sort of reminder of all she’s been through.
However, that still doesn't explain the symbol tattooed underneath it.
Reluctant to continue talking, Andrea decides it's time to question me. "What about you? Why did you only see your grandmother on vacations?"
"Summer and vacation time were the only times my parents bothered to remember I existed," I said, a bitter edge creeping into my voice. "They'd ship me off to my grandparents' place as soon as the school year ended. Boarding school was a year-round thing for me."
Andrea's eyes widened slightly. "Boarding school? For how long?"
I shrugged, mouth pressed into a thin line. "Pretty much my whole childhood." No need to sugarcoat it. "My parents were workaholics. Having a kid underfoot was an inconvenience they avoided at all costs."
Her brow furrowed in concern. I could see the questions forming behind her eyes.
