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I look in the mirror and hardly recognize the person staring back. The freckles that dot my cheeks are hidden under a mask of makeup, and my natural, reddish-brown hair is tucked away, replaced by the signature blonde wig that has become synonymous with Drea Joy.
As I fasten the glittering accessories, I catch the murmur of voices outside the door. Damien is out there, a silent sentinel of patience. The thought of him seeing me like this, as her and not me, tightens something in my chest.
I slip on the towering heels that demand a confident stride I don't feel. The adoration they have for Drea Joy, it's suffocating—because it's not me they love. Not really.
I take a deep breath, feeling the tightness of the bodice and the weight of the persona. It's like stepping into a cage each time, locking away the girl who dreams of a life where her music speaks her truth.
But that livestream changed everything.
I can't shake the yearning to just be Andrea, to let the world hear the songs I keep hidden in my notebook. But that's a dream for another life.
Right now, I have a show to do. I have to be Drea Joy.
With one last look in the mirror, I square my shoulders, my posture as perfect as the pop star I portray. The door swings open, and I step out, leaving Andrea behind.
But I don't get very far before I stop again.
A familiar voice echoes through the speakers. My eyes dart up at the unmistakably British accent, and there he is, my ex-boyfriend, lounging across the aisle from the stage.
Tall and confident, Logan is the kind of man who immediately catches the eye. Dark hair against light skin and clear blue eyes. He's a woman magnet. That alone should have warned me to stay far away.
My heart races. I've kept it to myself, but since we split up, Logan's been relentless with texts and calls. Every damn moment, it's exhausting.
Why he believes I'd make the same mistake twice is beyond me.
He's the kind of guy Brandon, my agent, hates me dating and warned me to watch out for, though it's clear I haven't been able to do that. Because, of course, I idiotically love to throw myself into danger.
I'd like to think it's the strong sense of self and freedom that attracted me more than his bad boy antics. But I guess we'll never really know. Because Brandon was right about him.
I wanted Logan, but Logan wanted the spotlight.
And yet again, I trusted the wrong man, and it almost ruined my career.
I must have a self-destructive streak, a twisted urge to sabotage my own success. My career's like a precious, delicate vase I'm itching to smash.
Logan was just the latest in a long line of bad decisions, each one more catastrophic than the last.
Brandon warned me about him, but I never listen. I guess I'm a glutton for punishment.
Now, I'm staring at the shattered remnants of my life, wondering how I got here. The tabloids made it so that most promoters and venues want nothing to do with me. And I can't mess up this gig.
It's my first six-figure gig since the infamous "break up" streamed live on social media.
Yeah…the fucker did that too. And I'm supposed to sweep it under the bridge. His tactic blew up his career, and it nearly ended mine.
Logan… the one I thought was different.
But Brandon was right, as usual.
Logan wanted the spotlight, and I was just a stepping stone. And now, my career hangs by a thread, thanks to my poor judgment.
I thought I could handle him, that I was strong enough to resist his games. But I was wrong.
Dead wrong.
Logan played me like a fiddle, and now I'm paying the price. My career, my reputation, all tarnished because I couldn't resist the allure of a handsome face and a wicked grin.
I've got to get it together, pick up the pieces of my shattered life, and rebuild. But first, I need to accept the cold, hard truth: I'm the one to blame for this mess. I'm the one who trusted the wrong man, and now I'm paying the price.
