Chapter 23 #2
If Ji-yoon was here, Ashley must be here too. This venue didn’t have to rely on trailers behind the stage. It had enough space to accommodate actual dressing rooms in the back.
I just needed to find Ashley’s. This had to be a private conversation.
Stepping over cables, I picked my way to the rear of the stage and zeroed in on the four largest dressing rooms. Ashley had to be holed up in one of those.
I knocked on the first door. “Ashley, it’s Noelle.”
No answer.
Tried the second door, yelling the same thing. I heard rustling behind the door and pressed my ear against it. “Ashley?”
The third door swung open, and I jumped back.
“For fuck’s sake, Noelle, why are you out here yelling?” Ashley stood in the doorway, a hand on her hip.
“We need to talk. Now.”
A smile curled Ashley’s lip as she widened the door. “C’mon in.”
I smoothed my sticky palms against my linen pants and followed her into the lion’s den.
Her gaze flicked over me when I closed the door behind us. “Cute fit.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I folded my hands in front of me, trying not to fiddle with my fingers. “Look, Ashley. You can’t keep trashing Conor. We both know he’s not cheating.”
“We know it...” she waved her finger between the two of us “...but the fans don’t.”
I inhaled through my nose and parted my lips to ease out the breath. Maybe I could appeal to her sympathy. She’d certainly felt the slings and arrows of a fickle fandom. “Conor is a good guy. He doesn’t deserve to get booed.”
“Exactly.” She snapped her fingers in my face, and I blinked. “Conor is an angel, and he’s a former member of the most popular boyband in the world—he’ll recover. We both know the world treats unfaithful men with a lot more kindness than it does unfaithful women.”
“I get that, but you’re throwing me under the bus, too. 92 West is not happy with my involvement in this situation.”
She jerked her shoulders up and down. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you fell under Conor’s spell...again.”
I flexed my fingers. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use the photos to convince her, but she was backing me into a corner.
She clapped her hands. “Snap out of it, Noelle. You’ll end up on top of this, too. You got your man back, didn’t you?”
“I...”
“I redeem my image and bolster your standing at 92 West. Conor gets to play bad boy for a few weeks. And then you two can walk into the sunset hand-in-hand.” She dusted her own hands together as if she’d just solved the world’s problems.
“This is not a good time for Conor’s image to be taking a sharp turn toward hell, and I may get my man, but I’m going to lose my career.”
“It’ll be fine.” She sat in front of the mirror and brushed out her hair.
I closed my eyes as I reached for my phone, blood pounding in my ears. “It’ll be fine once I release these photos I have of you and Tomo.”
She slammed down the brush. “What?”
“Someone sent me pictures of you and Tomo making out.” My finger only trembled a bit when I accessed the photos on my phone.
“You don’t exactly look like a woman upset that her lover is hooking up with someone else.
In fact, these pics have a timestamp that pre-dates the one on the picture of me and Conor. ”
“And you’re going to do what with those, Noelle?” Ashley picked up a red lipstick and met my eyes in the mirror.
“I don’t want to post them. I don’t want to expose you, but you have to stop promoting that other narrative.
” I put my phone away. Ashley already knew about the pictures.
She didn’t need to see them. “We can work this out, Ashley. We can play up my past relationship with Conor—we’re just close friends.
You’ve been upset on stage because of your voice. ”
The look she flashed me could melt the wiring on the set—and burn it all down. She recovered quickly and ran the lipstick along her plump bottom lip. “It’s too late for that. People know there’s something more than friendship between you and Con. It’s the perfect setup for me.”
“For you.”
“For you, too. My word is golden at Orlando’s PR firm. If Dina fires you...” she flipped back her hair “...I can get Orlando to hire you. You play ball with me—now, and I play ball with you later.”
Even if I believed her about the job with Orlando, and I didn’t, her plan to stay the course didn’t solve everything. “And Conor?”
“I told you already. He’s the Teflon boybander. He’ll be fine.”
I stamped my boot. “It’s not right.”
Ashley spun around and pushed up to her feet. “A lot about this business isn’t right. You and Conor handed me a solution with your heart eyes for each other—and I’m gonna use it.”
“Not if I post those pictures of you and Tomo.”
Her dark eyes glittered. “Go ahead. Do it.”
I opened my mouth, but not a sound came out.
Ashley smiled. “Do what’s right, Noelle. Whatever that is.”
She swept past me and out the door.
I put my hand against the wall to steady myself. Ashley Bennett just called my bluff.
I stayed in her dressing room for a long time, but she never returned. Then I walked to the mirror, studied myself for a second, touched up my own lipstick, and walked out.
The last chords of Conor’s encore reverberated from the stage and amid cheers and...boos. People were swallowing Ashley’s narrative, fueled by a few damning pictures of us.
What would they do with the pictures of her and Tomo?
I sighed. I’d never know.
Conor marched off the stage without a word or a glance for me, his jaw tight.
Great. I had two out of three artists hating me on my break-out tour. Was it too late to go into medicine?
Rhys broke away from his drum set to grab another water from Jade, who was waiting for him in the wings. When he saw me, he stumbled to a stop. “Don’t ask me to talk to him this time. He’s too pissed.”
“I know.” I waved my hand at the restless crowd waiting for Ashley. “I’m going to figure it out.”
“Hope so.” Rhys took the water from Jade and whispered in her ear as she giggled.
At least one couple on this tour didn’t have to hide things.
Ashley ascended the steps to the stage, teetering on her four-inch heels and clutching a red solo cup filled with something that made her smile. Or maybe it was just her knowledge that I’d never release those photos that had her grinning from ear-to-ear.
She patted me on the back. “No break a leg from my publicist?
“Have a great show, Ashley, and I hope whatever’s in that cup improves your voice.”
The smile dropped from her face as she handed the cup to a gofer dogging her steps.
Rhys and Jade hid their own smiles behind their hands as Jade gave him a push toward the stage.
I stayed in the wings as Ashley started her set, my muscles tight, my jaw clenched. She sounded worse than ever, so I guess the drink didn’t help and neither did the sheen of victory.
But she had the crowd going with her interaction with them. She might not please the critics, but her fans adored her—especially when she leaned into the broken-hearted Ashley routine.
When she mercifully reached her last song—before the encore duet with Conor—she placed a hand to her throat and said, “This one is for all the bruised hearts out there. For all of us who love too hard and foolishly.”
I snorted silently. I’m convinced the only thing Ashley loved was her career.
And where did that get me?
When she finished the song to cheers and adulation, she held up her hand. “Should I do it? Should I bring him out for this encore?”
Conor had appeared beside me, vibrating with anger. “She’s really pushing this.”
“It’s the only thing she has at this point. Did you hear her singing? Half the audience doesn’t even know what she’s talking about.”
“Really?” Conor raised his eyebrows at me—the first time he’d actually looked at me since we talked on the bus. “I’ll make her regret it.”
I reached for his sleeve, but he blew past me to stride onto the stage.
His stans and Five2 fans still loved him and clapped and screamed when he appeared. I held my breath when he grabbed the mic, but all he said was, “Let’s do this, Ash.”
She nodded and launched into the first verse. After a few lines, her voice wavered and she finished on a whisper.
Conor started his verse, and the contrast almost made the A-Bens stop screaming. His strong vocals gave life and emotion to the song, which were completely missing from Ashley’s rendition.
She tried to match his intensity with her next try, but she sounded like a rooster in heat.
Conor smoothly raised his mic and took over for her. It played out that way for the rest of the song. Conor took up the slack and delivered.
Once again, Ashley hid her poor vocal quality behind histrionics and snarky asides about lost love and heartbreak. Did the audience actually buy her BS? From the smattering of boos at the end of the song, it would seem so, but Conor came off a hero—to me, anyway.
On stage, he made a show of kissing Ashley on the cheek and grabbing her hand. He raised their hands together and then tugged her offstage with him.
Once they were out of view of the audience, Ashley rounded on him. “Do not sing my parts. Do you know the meaning of duet?”
“Yeah, a duet is when two people sing together—not when one sings and one croaks.”
“It seems the crowd loved my croaking more than your singing.”
“Your fans love your drama. It has nothing to do with singing, or whatever that is you do up there.”
“Uh, guys.” Tomo stepped into the fray with his phone held up.
Ashley snapped at him, “Not now.”
People backstage began to turn their attention from Ashley and Conor to their phones. My own phone buzzed with messages from Dina, Orlando, and Toby—seemingly all at the same time.
Rhys smirked. “Oh shit, Tomo.”
Around us, one phone after another lit up.
Someone whispered, "Is that...Ashley?"
My stomach dropped.
I opened the PopWiz notification.
Ashley let out a hair-raising shriek.