5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

C andy

The leather couch in Maury's office squeaks every time I shift, trying to get comfortable. It's not easy to relax, considering how my heart is racing, my palms are sweating, or that Courage is sitting right next to me, his muscular thigh brushing against mine every time he moves.

Focus, Candy. This meeting is important.

Maury clears his throat, drawing my gaze to where he sits behind his massive mahogany desk. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, his usually immaculate appearance disheveled and weary.

"You both need to understand how serious this is." His voice is grave as he folds his hands on the desk. "Although it hasn't aired yet, the documentary, Broken Starlets is gaining traction. Variety's putting out a lot of buzz about it and it's still in production. It's going to be a six-parter about everything that went down at the Kids Entertainment Network."

I frown, a familiar knot of anxiety forming in my stomach. Broken Starlets . The exposé promises to blow the lid off the dark underbelly of KEN—the abuse and trauma inflicted on its young stars. Including me.

"Candy," Maury sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know you've been reluctant to participate. And I understand. I do. But this thing… it's not going away. Your old co-stars Samantha Adair, Veronica Trudeau, and half a dozen others… they're all attached to the project. Ready to tell their stories. The only major holdout… is you."

My hands clench in my lap, nails digging into my palms. I feel Courage's gaze on me, steady and assessing.

"What… what are you saying, Maury?" My voice comes out brittle, strained. "That I should do it? Spill my guts to some film crew? Let the whole world pick apart the worst years of my life?"

Maury holds up a placating hand. "I'm saying you should consider it. This is your chance, Candy. To control your narrative. Get ahead of the story. Show that despite everything you've been through, you're a survivor. A fighter."

I swallow hard, my throat tight. "And if I don't talk to them? If I keep my mouth shut, what then?"

Maury wipes his palm across his mouth as he thinks. "Then you risk the documentary painting you as complicit. An enabler. Maybe even an abuser yourself."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I can't breathe.

"But that's not… I never…" I stammer, hot tears pricking my eyes.

"Of course, I know that." Maury's belief in me is obvious. "Anyone with half a brain can see you were a victim, Candy. Not a perpetrator."

I draw strength from Maury's support, understanding, and belief in me.

"Candy, honey, no one's going to force you into anything." His tone is soft. "But I think you should meet with the documentarians. Hear them out. They're good people, I've checked them out. They just want to give you a platform to share your truth."

I press my lips together, my mind whirling. The thought of dredging up those old wounds, laying them bare for public consumption… it's terrifying. Soul-skinning.

But the alternative… letting my silence be misconstrued, twisted into something ugly and false…

"I'll think about it," I manage at last, my voice scarcely above a whisper. "I just… I need some time."

Maury nods, looking relieved. "Of course. But Candy… don't take too long, okay? This thing's got momentum. Better to get out in front of it. And at the risk of sounding like a true bastard, this could help your P.R. problem."

My head is spinning so fast that I can't figure out how talking to these documentary people could help my tabloid infamy.

"You tell the world about this and you're no longer a spoiled little rich girl—"

I scoff as I roll my eyes.

"Your behavior now has a reason and a name behind it. The optics are good."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak around the lump in my throat. Courage scoots closer. His thigh brushing mine anchors me as the magnitude of this choice threatens to sweep me away.

Participate in the documentary. Bare my soul, my scars, for all the world to see. Or remain silent… and risk losing everything anyway.

"Just promise me you'll keep an open mind," Maury presses. "In the meantime," his tone shifts to something upbeat, "I've got a plan to get your career back on track. A way to reconnect with your fans, remind them why they fell in love with you in the first place."

Despite the heaviness in my chest, I feel a flicker of curiosity. "What kind of plan?"

"A tour," Maury announces, leaning forward with a glint in his eye. "But not just any tour. We're stripping it back, going acoustic. Intimate venues, a more raw, authentic sound. The Candy Wood Back-to-Basics Tour."

"Acoustic?" I can't keep a screech of surprise from my voice. "But I'm a rock star, Maury. My fans expect—"

"Your fans expect you to put on clothes when you leave the house," he cuts in, his tone sharp. "They expect you not to flash the paparazzi. Right now, their expectations are pretty damn low."

I flinch, my cheeks heating. He's right, of course. I've been a hot mess lately.

As I try to process this sudden shift, I can't help but ask, "Back-to-basics? My fans expect dance beats and glitter and…"

"And that's exactly why this is going to work," he cuts in, waving a hand. "It's unexpected. Shocking, even. Imagine the headlines: Pop Princess Bares Her Soul. Candy Wood Unplugged."

I've got to admit, it's intriguing. A chance to reinvent myself, to show a different side of my artistry. But doubt niggles at the back of my mind.

"I don't know, Maury. What if they hate it? What if I'm not… enough, without all the bells and whistles?"

"You are enough." Courage's voice is low but fierce, his eyes blazing as they meet mine. "I researched you when I got this gig. Your music is amazing."

Maury nods emphatically. "You've always been enough, Candy. It's time the world sees that. And this tour is going to prove it. We'll start small and work our way up. Build buzz, get the critics on your side. By the time we hit the big markets, you'll be the talk of the industry."

It's a lot to take in. The documentary, the tour, the chance to rewrite my own story. It's overwhelming and terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

But maybe I can do this. Maybe I'm finally ready to stop running from my past and start facing it head-on.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. "Okay. Let's do it. The Candy Wood Back-to-Basics Tour."

Maury claps his hands, a grin spreading across his face. "Fantastic. I'll start making calls, lining up venues. This is going to be big, Candy. Huge. The comeback of the century."

As he launches into logistics, his words wash over me in a blur. All I can focus on are two things: how hard this will be, and that it just might turn my life around.

For the first time in years, I feel a flicker of something that might just be hope. And damn if it isn't the most dangerous, intoxicating feeling in the world.