Chapter 1 Olly

(Two months ago)

" W hat the hell is this crap?" Our agent and manager, Leslie Thomas, tosses a gossip magazine onto the kitchen counter. "Tell me you're not on drugs." Yeah, Leslie has always been an asshole. He stands there in his usual designer jeans and navy button-up shirt. Leslie stares at me with an intense gaze that would get most people replying in an instant, but I know the man is all bark.

I chew on my lip, not even bothering to answer him. He damn well knows I don't do drugs. My gaze trails back over to the magazine. Even from my vantage point against the fridge, I can see a photo of myself plastered on the cover. It's an image that will be carved into my brain until the end of time.

My twin brother walks into the kitchen in a pair of sweats. He picks up the tabloid. "Fuck," he mumbles. "Another one? Can't you fucking do something about this shit?" He tosses the magazine back toward Leslie, right as Leslie's phone starts to ring.

"Damnit, I gotta take this." He slams the tabloid on the counter and points a finger at me. "Don't think we're done with this conversation. I want some explanations." Leslie brushes past me, and I sigh in relief as soon as he's out of sight.

"Just a few more months," I mumble. "Just a few more months."

"Don't let him get to you, Olly. His contract is up at the end of the year."

"I know." Picking up the magazine, I tense when I look at the title. "Arcade Lake on Drugs? Are they serious with this shit?" I study my photo, feeling lost. I'm up on stage, something that wouldn't be unusual if it weren't for the fact that I'm curled up in the fetal position, eyes wide and manic as I stare blankly in front of me. The photo was clearly taken by a professional backstage because I can see the crowd of fans behind me. Thousands and thousands of people witnessing my panic attack.

Zayden gently pries the magazine from my grasp and throws it into the trash. He wraps his arms around me. "I'm so sorry, Olls. I wish I could go back in time. I wish we had never met Oscar Mendez."

"It's not your fault," I say for what feels like the millionth time. "We didn't know." I'm just grateful the man didn't break the trust between me and my brother.

The day Zayden kicked Oscar out of his bed should have been the last time we ever saw the cheating asshole, but unfortunately for us, it wasn't. He called me multiple times a day for weeks, begging me to forgive him. I ignored every call.

Two weeks later, I got my first letter.

We thought nothing of it in the beginning. So many fans get creative, leaving us letters, gifts, and photos. But that first letter from Oscar wasn't signed. It wasn't until his letters turned creepy and ended with a ‘ Forever Yours ' did I realize it was him. It was something he used to say to me in person.

‘ Forever Yours '

The man I once thought would be my everything became my worst nightmare instead. A stalker. A predator. He was obsessed with Arcade Lake, but his main focus was terrorizing Zayden and me. After about a year of being followed, improving our security, and limiting my time out with the public, I started to get paranoid. Suddenly Oscar's creepy love notes turned into threats and, eventually, into packages that looked like they were gifts straight out of a horror movie.

When Oscar was finally caught, we found out Oscar wasn't even his real name. Not only was this repeated behavior with other celebrities, but he had also hurt those he stalked before he disappeared. The FBI got involved, and somehow, we were able to keep all of this from the media.

The day Oscar was caught was one of the best days of my life. The amount of relief I felt was overwhelming. He was going away for a long time.

Unfortunately, by the time he was arrested, it was too late for my mental health. My paranoia escalated, and my body had betrayed me. Even knowing the threat is behind bars, I still flinch at any sudden noises. My nights are filled with nightmares, and my body reacts against my will. The photo is staring at me from the trash. My face flushes with anger; he fucking did this to me. He broke me. It wasn't the first time I was performing on stage when I thought I saw Oscar out in the crowd.

Sometimes it's an outfit or the way a guy moves. This time it was a fan's mop of dark, wavy hair that made me react. When the guy's face turned up toward the stage, I could see it wasn't Oscar, but my brain couldn't communicate with my body in time, not with the adrenaline pumping through my blood and my heart pounding.

It happened in a flash. One minute I was strumming my guitar, then the next I was on the ground, lost in nightmares and memories.

I shake the thoughts away. "Whatever. There's nothing I can do. The damage is done," I say.

Zayden's forehead creases with concern.

"No," I hiss, jabbing a finger toward him. "Don't do that. Don't pity me. It's not my fault I react this way. I can't fucking stop it from happening."

Zayden leans forward, and I shrug off his touch. How could he be so normal while I'm at war with my body, stuck in the aftermath of Oscar's bullshit?

"Olly, I never said I pitied you."

"It's in your damn expression."

"It's just…" Zayden hesitates. "It keeps happening. You're always taking care of everyone around you, but when do you ever focus on yourself? I think you need to talk to someone about this. You've kept it bottled up."

"And what if the media finds out?"

"Maybe they should."

I recoil back as if slapped.

"Maybe it's time we told our story. We can get ahead of it. Make sure we tell our side before the media finds out and twists the truth."

Leaning against the counter, I mull over Zayden's words. He's right. Maybe talking about this and getting it out will be my first step in the healing process. "Okay," I reply.

"Perfect. Why don't we call Noah?"

I smile, thinking of our little brother. After he graduated last year, he finally got an internship at Dee Rama Magazine. He's worked hard to get where he is, and I couldn't be prouder. "If Noah could interview us, or get someone he trusts, then I'm in. I'll tell my story."

"Good."

"Good," I repeat, before hesitating. "Zee?"

"Yeah?"

"After our interview, I think I need a break." Zayden nods, so I continue talking. "It's something I've been afraid to admit to myself, but you're right. I need help. Time to heal. I'm going to call Aunt Tessy and see if I can stay with her a bit."

"You're going to Northern California?"

I nod again.

"Leslie won't like it, but I think this will be good for you. We just finished the tour. I think it will be beneficial for you to be out of sight for a while after the interview publishes."

"Looks like I'm finally going to Foggy Basin."

(Present Day)

I pull up to the only gas station in Foggy Basin, thankful there's one in town. I really should have filled up when I drove through Roseville, but I didn't want to prolong my trip even more. As soon as I park, I pull off my helmet and take a deep breath. The town is surrounded by trees and off in the distance there's a nice view of the mountains. I can't even remember the last time I stayed in a small town.

Puffy clouds are high in the sky, and the sun beats down on my back, causing me to sweat now that I'm not riding on the highway.

"Am I dreaming or did one of Arcade Lake's guitarists just pull up in my small town on the back of a Shadow?" The silhouette of a man built like a running back comes into view. It isn't until he's closer and out of direct sunlight that I can make out his features.

The man has shaggy blond hair and stunning turquoise eyes. At first glance, I think he's tall, but once he's by my side, I realize he's a little shorter than me and more compact. I'd guess he's about five-foot-seven. The man's handsome, in that bad boy type of way.

He crouches down and looks at my bike, admiring it.

I grin, happy to meet someone who appreciates my bike. She's affordable, but still a beauty. "Olly." I hold out my hand once he stands up. He eyes my hand carefully before clasping it with his and offering me a shy smile. He's an interesting blend of innocent and bad boy, but it suits him.

"Haven," he replies. "Huge fan."

Suddenly, I register the sound of heavy metal coming from the building in front of me. I smile again. "That's my buddy's band. We went on tour together—"

"A few months ago." Haven nods eagerly. "I remember hearing about it. So, what brings you to Foggy?"

"Actually, can you keep a secret?" I glance around as if paparazzi will pop out from behind the gas pump. Haven seems like a nice guy, but I have no idea if I can trust him. Unfortunately, with a town as small as Foggy Basin, I'm positive it won't take long for the gossip of my arrival to spread.

"I can definitely keep a secret," he replies, tone sincere. And, for some reason, I believe him. There must be something about his soft demeanor, despite his bad-boy exterior.

"I'm planning on staying here for a bit."

His eyes widen, jaw falling slack. "But why our town?"

"My aunt lives here," I say simply.

Sure enough, Haven knows exactly who my aunt is. We chat for a bit before someone from town pulls up, needing help with their car. Apparently, Haven and his brother live in the apartment over the building. He's a mechanic and runs the garage, his sister runs the gas station, and their brother has a dispensary.

Hopping back on my bike, I make my way toward my aunt's place, checking the address as soon as I arrive. It's a cute little cottage-style house, with blue shutters on the windows and a wrap-around porch. It's modest compared to the mansion she used to own in San Francisco.

I park my motorcycle on her driveway and climb the two steps onto her porch, spotting the wooden two-seater swing on one end. Holy shit, have I walked into a damn Hallmark movie?

"Oliver, honey, is that you?"

I spin around to see Aunt Tessy behind me with her wild curly brown hair half up in a messy bun. She's wearing a purple sundress that hangs down to her ankles and a pair of gardening gloves. Despite a few grays, she looks exactly like I've always remembered her.

"Aunty Tessy." I rush back down the stairs and wrap her tiny frame in my arms. Her familiar scent of lavender surrounds me, and I feel some of the tension leave my body. As if sensing I need her, she tightens her hold as I linger a moment longer.

"You look good," I say as I pull away slowly. I point at her dirt-smudged gardening gloves with a grin. "Small-town life suits you."

"It damn well better suit me. I've been here for ten years now. It's not my fault you never visited."

Heat creeps into my cheeks. "You know how it is. Life has been a little crazy lately."

"Yes, yes." She waves her hand in the air before leading me into her house. "The life of a famous rock star and all."

"You didn't seem to be complaining about said fame when Zayden and I surprised you and Mom with a trip to Hawaii a few months ago." Just because I haven't been to her house, didn't mean that Zayden and I didn't make it a point to see her as often as possible. Because of our busy schedule, it's been easier to fly her, Mom, and Noah to us throughout the years.

"Well, I'm glad you're finally here."

"Me too."

I sit at the small round table in her kitchen and watch her flitter around the room like a bumblebee with a purpose.

"Here's some lemonade." She places the glass in front of me and I offer her a smile.

"Thank you." I hum in appreciation as I chug the tangy-sweet beverage. "I'm not used to riding in the heat anymore."

"So, how long do you plan on staying?"

I think about Arcade Lake and the guys, the tour we just canceled, and that damn article. "I'm not sure," I answer honestly. "At least a few weeks."

Aunt Tessy pats my shoulder and joins me at the table with her own glass.

"Do you think I'm being overdramatic? I feel like I left Zayden and the band in a jam."

She shakes her head and places her hand on the table, palm up. Automatically, I grasp her hand, clutching it like a lifeline. Suddenly, I feel so small. Like the lost teen who ran to his aunt whenever he needed guidance.

"No, sweetie." She squeezes my hand. "Your mental health is more important. You've dealt with a lot."

Aunt Tessy is the only one who knows the full extent of my feelings about Oscar. Even my brothers don't fully understand just how much damage Oscar's stalking had done to me.

"You're here to heal, Olly, in whatever way that might be. My doors are always open to you and our family, and you can take as long as you need. If the guys don't understand, that's fine. You are allowed to focus on you for once."

I take a deep breath and nod. She's right. It's okay to focus on me for once.