3. Take Me Home #2
I let out a long breath once I’m alone, kicking off my shoes and slumping onto the couch. My head is still spinning when my phone buzzes in my hand.
Mark.
Great.
I hesitate but swipe to answer, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Hey.”
“Elena.” Mark’s voice is gentler than usual. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m home now.”
I hear him sigh with relief.
“Building security informed us what happened. I’m really sorry. The paps were tipped off—You should have never been put in that position.”
I close my eyes, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Wasn’t exactly the highlight of my day.”
“I know,” he says. “Listen, this is on me. We should’ve anticipated the media frenzy. From now on, I’ll be setting you up with a permanent driver—and security. So nothing like that happens again.”
“Security?”
“Yes,” he says firmly. “You’re not going anywhere alone, Elena. Not with the attention you’re getting. It’s my job to protect you—no matter the cost.”
There’s a weird comfort in that, even if it feels...intense.
“Okay.”
“And...” His tone shifts, turning back into the sharp, businesslike Mark I know. “You might want to start packing a bag.”
I sit up straighter, heart skipping. “Why?”
“Because you’re going on tour.”
My stomach flips. “Tour?”
“That’s right, you’re about to be the opening act for Ava Edwards.”
“What how?”
“Her opener is pulling out of a few dates for health reasons. It’s only for a few dates—she’s on the final leg—but it’s gonna be huge. First show’s in two weeks. Rehearsals start tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“It’s tight. So prepare for some long days—you’ve got press, meet-and-greets. The whole deal.”
My mouth goes dry. “Ava Edwards?”
“The one and only.” I can hear him grinning. “So take today, but then it’s go-time, Elena. This is your second chance so don’t blow it.”
My second chance.
He was right. I can’t mess this up again.
“Okay,” I whisper in disbelief.
“And Elena?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re gonna kill it out there.”
The line clicks off before I can say anything else, and I’m left sitting there—phone still pressed to my ear, heart pounding.
It’s happening. It’s actually happening.
The words echo through me. I don’t quite believe them—perhaps this is fever dream I’ll wake up from.
You deserve this.
The thought takes me by surprise. Do I?
Well no matter the circumstances. No matter how much it hurt to get here. There was no stopping a moving train and perhaps I owed it to myself to actually embrace this moment for what is instead of wallowing and punishing myself for someone else’s mistakes.
I made a promise to my mother. To live. So I needed to start doing that—not for someone else, but for myself.
Tour.
Ava Edwards.
Opening act.
The start of everything I’ve ever wanted.
And with a renewed focus, something dangerously close to hope flickers in my heart.
I set up a group chat Text in the City with Philippa, Andrew, Riley, and Broderick.
Elena
Guess who’s going on tour?
Philippa
No way
Riley
Oh fuck yes! Consider me your number 1 groupie!
Broderick
New number who’s this?
Andrew
Ha, nice one bro.
Riley
Who invited B1 it’s too soon, too confusing. I’m still trying to stitch up what Alex broke, and here I am—feeling…what…horny?
Riley must notice the way the air shifts, the way Broderick takes a half step back, rubbing his jaw.
“Come on, Bradley,” she teases, grabbing a couple of drinks from the fridge. “Dinner almost ready?”
“Yeah,” I cough clearing my throat.
“You okay El?” he asks
I nod. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Broderick follows her out silently.
When I’m alone, I take a few steadying breaths, but my pulse refuses to slow.
What was that?
By the time I carry out the adobo, I’ve almost convinced myself it was nothing—just proximity, hormones, the excitement from today’s events.
We settle around the table, dishing out the meal I’d prepared. Philippa takes her first bite and lets out a theatrical moan, and laughter ripples through the table. For a fleeting second, I almost feel normal again.
“Oh my God, Elena. This is just like Mom’s.”
My throat tightens, but I smile anyway. “I tried.”
“You nailed it,” she says firmly.