Chapter 21
NOELLE
I kept my phone in my hand throughout Ji-yoon’s set on the campus of the University of New Mexico, but Louise didn’t come back to answer our question.
After she indicated that she had, in fact, changed my number in Conor’s phone once she completed the data transfer, we had one question for her: Why? Or maybe a second question: Who?
But she went radio silent after that. She didn’t have to explain. There’s no reason she would’ve done that unless ordered to do so, and the only person with the clout to make that demand was Gordon Cooper.
But why? I understood he didn’t want Conor to have a public girlfriend at the beginning to play into the image of the cute, available boybander that every girl could fantasize could belong to her, but why to those lengths?
I mean, I was in the business. He could’ve just explained the situation to us. I could’ve gone down under, under cover. Conor and I could’ve kept things quiet.
Yeah, like we were doing now? We couldn’t keep our hands or eyes off each other today. In the throes of first love and at our tender ages, we never would’ve been able to do it back then. Maybe Gordon realized that.
But he had no right. If he had presented it to us, we might have been able to work out something. He stripped that opportunity and agency from us.
Conor still wanted to confront Gordon, but I didn’t see the point. We had it under good authority, Louise, that he made her change my number, and we had an idea about his motive. What was Conor going to do about it? Yell at him? Punch him in the face? What good would any of that do?
Ji-yoon ended her set and bolted off stage, right into my arms. “They liked it. They like me—all on my own.”
I hugged her tightly. And so it started. The insecurity. What would her manager get her to do to maintain this high? How would management twist her desire for fame and success so that she’d allow them control over her life and choices.
If I could warn her, I would, but as I didn’t have the first-hand experience, I don’t know if my advice would carry any weight. Maybe Conor could talk to her. She’d listen to him. He’d been through it all. But Ji-yoon might see his success as worth the sacrifices.
Did he still think they were worth it?
“You sound amazing out there, Ji-yoon.”
“Thanks, Noelle. I’d love to stick around tonight, but I have a meeting with my manager to go over tomorrow’s schedule. I wish I could hang out with everyone more.” She bit her bottom lip. “I-I feel like I’m missing out on all the fun of my first big tour—I mean, without the other girls.”
She already had regrets.
Patting her arm, I said, “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of tours to experience. Honestly, the only adventures you’re missing are loud video games, drunken pool parties, and cramped nights in the bus.”
“Sounds fun.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m watching Jade’s behind the scenes videos on social media, so I’m getting it all second-hand.”
I watched her dash off stage to her next appointment when she should be relaxing and having fun with the rest of the crew. She shouldn’t be living her own concert via videos on socials.
Conor appeared beside me. “Don’t look so sad. I’m gonna get every detail out of Louise.”
I rubbed my nose. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen, and I don’t think it matters, Con. We got our proof. We kinda figured it out anyway, but having Louise tell us point blank that she changed my number is all we need. Can we move on now?”
His eyes glittered dangerously. “I’m not moving on from shit, Noelle. Gordo has to know that we know, and that it’s not okay. I’ll expose his ass.”
“Now isn’t the time, not when you’re trying to put together a reunion tour.”
“He’s not involved in that. We’re not using Baker Street or any of his associates.”
“Gordon Cooper has fingers in all kinds of pies. He will make the comeback tour as difficult as he possibly can for you—maybe even try to sabotage it. He may try to do that anyway once he realizes you’re cutting him out.
He doesn’t even need your threats of exposure.
You have to tread lightly around Gordo.”
“I’m done treading lightly—around Gordo and everyone else.” At the announcement of his name from the stage, Conor slung his guitar over his neck and strode in front of the crowd, waving.
“How ya doing, Albuquerque! Let’s start this off with a banger from Five2Go. I know you know the words, so let’s get lit!”
When he launched into one of Five2’s early hits, the fans went crazy—no boos this time. They were too busy singing along to their teenage memories.
If Conor chose that song to start the set to distract from the online gossip, he chose well. He even had me dropping my clipboard and singing and dancing in the wings.
By the time he finished his set, throwing in a few more Five2 songs, he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. I could run out there right now and jump in his arms, and the audience wouldn’t care.
Fans were fickle. Fame was fickle.
Ashley understood this better than anyone. You couldn’t blame a girl for trying. And I didn’t blame her—not really. It had been my stupid idea to fake a relationship. I had to suck it up and make it right for everyone. That was literally my job.
But I wanted to make it more right for me and Conor than Ashley. Did that make me a bad person?
When Conor left the stage, he nodded at me. Yeah, he’d decided to take some steps himself. The multiple Five2Go songs proved that.
The stagehands scurried around to set up Ashley’s background. The dancers got into position, stretching and preening. The musicians swapped out a few of their instruments to meet the requirements of Ashley’s songs.
Then the queen herself swept onto the stage, her glittering bikini catching the stage lights, her crotch literally shooting sparks.
Her voice sounded rough on the first song—it usually took three or four numbers to reach this point—but her fans didn’t notice or didn’t care. They screamed and shimmied and danced in the aisles.
Ashley didn’t care either. She glowed under the love and adulation. She’d do anything to keep that flowing—throw Conor under the bus, me, probably even Tomo.
As her set ended, she called Conor back on stage for their duet. I held my breath as he joined her. How would they play it tonight?
He jogged out and put an arm around Ashley’s waist. Good start. “We want to end the night with a little duet we did. Maybe you heard it...Love Me Again.”
The audience roared as the band cranked up the opening chords of the song.
Raising one hand, Conor said, “We love a good heartbreak song, don’t we? Cuz we all know that love can get complicated sometimes. Isn’t that right, Ash?”
“Absolutely, Con.” She broke away from him and sashayed to the edge of the stage. “Let’s do this.”
The song went off without a hitch—unless you counted Conor helping Ashley with her parts because she couldn’t carry the tune a hitch. I didn’t.
Both singers looked happy, engaged, the song sounded great, and the crowd loved them—both of them. Maybe we’d turned that corner.
My tense muscles relaxed as the number went into Ashley’s final verse. She croaked the first note, and I hunched my shoulders. “C’mon Ashley. Dig deep, girl.”
She finished the line on a breathy rasp and missed the cue on the second line.
Conor raised his mic and shored up the melody with his strong voice.
I clasped my hands in front of me, nodding. “Bring it home.”
A boo from the crowd wiped the smile from my face, and I peered into the crowd as if I could actually see the culprit. A few more boos echoed toward the stage, and I heard a few catcalls.
“Let her finish.”
“It’s her song too.”
“This is Ashley’s verse.”
The audience was actually attacking Conor for helping Ashley with the vocals. I hoped Ashley and Conor couldn’t hear the commotion from their positions on the stage.
The duet part ended the song, but Ashley dropped her head and stopped singing. The band carried on, as did Conor. I watched in horror as Ashley’s shoulders slumped, and she covered her face with her hands.
Thinking she was in distress, Conor placed a hand on Ashley’s back, but she shrugged him off and ran for the wings.
As she brushed past me, I grabbed her arm. “Ashley, are you alright?”
She turned her head, peering at me through a curtain of blond hair, and gave me a big smile.
Dropping her arm, I jerked back.
Conor finished the song on his own, to scattered boos, and the band picked up the tempo of the closing notes to end it and get the hell out of there.
Ashley just used the stage to further her childish agenda. She did it because she couldn’t sing anymore and exploited that unfortunate fact to shit on Conor—in front of everyone.
Conor smiled and waved, ever the professional, and walked off the stage, his head held high. When he got clear of the audience, he slammed his fist into some scaffolding.
“To think I felt sorry for that...that...snake.”
“Totally unacceptable.” I spotted Rhys and waved him over. I was sure Conor didn’t want to hear any platitudes from me as I’m the one who got him into this mess. Then I dug us both in deeper by not staying away from him.
Rhys tucked his drumsticks into his back pocket. “That was fucked up, mate. At least when you’re back on stage with the lads, you don’t have to worry about any of that shit happening.”
I shot Rhys a sharp look, and he shrugged.
“I cannot believe she did that.” Conor tugged at his hair.
“You know what it was all about, right? She can’t sing for shit.
Instead of playing along with me, shouting out to the crowd, or doing a few of those cringe dance moves she does, she used the chance to drive home her Conor is cheating on me stunt. ”
“I’ll talk to her. I’ll talk to Orlando. Maybe he can convince her it’s not the way to go.”
“You’d have better luck talking to Dina. Orlando works for Ashley and Ashley’s interests only. If he reckons this is a good look for her, he’s just going to encourage it. You know how this works, Noelle. You’re the one who came up with it.”
“I...”