Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

TAM

79 bobas left until they both die … (the same day)

Leaving Lake to take that fan call is not the easiest thing I have ever done.

“I fucking hate these,” I whisper to Jacob before I step out of the bedroom we commandeered for hair and makeup. Nobody else is in here or else I would never have dared to even whisper something like that. Can I tell my fans that I hate their fan calls?

I don’t want to wear a dog collar anymore. I don’t want to bark. I don’t want to roleplay dates or marriages or what I’d be like as a dad to their kids. It’s horrible. I feel humiliated.

“Just one more, and we won’t do another until next year, okay?” Jacob pats my shoulder, and I nod, checking my makeup in the hallway mirror. Doesn’t look like I’m wearing any makeup at all, but it’s a lot. Lake saw me without it this morning. Yesterday, too, come to think of it.

She didn’t look at me any differently.

My brows are dark, a bit of shadow around my eyes to deepen them, a dash of shine on my bottom lip. I ruffle my own hair though it already looks properly tussled.

“Tomorrow, our schedule starts up again. I’d rather we stayed in a hotel in town than stay here again. You did tell me that you’d consider skipping the last night here.”

“I changed my mind,” I tell Jacob, and then I escape into the room where we’ll be filming. The whole crew is in here, Daniel included. I take a seat in a chair surrounded by white screens. They’re to the left of, in front of, and to the right of me, to reflect light and make me look my best.

Behind me, there’s a carefully curated backdrop of normalcy. The windows, with the trees outside visible. A small side table with a lamp. Very cozy. Very homey.

I yawn, and somebody—it’s Maggie, thanks Maggie—gives me an energy shot.

I got quality sleep last night thanks to Lake, but I’m still tired. Can’t make up for years of two-to-three-hour nights and feel rested after one good one.

“Here’s the script for today. Doesn’t have to be verbatim, just to give you some idea.” Jacob hands over his iPad, and I look down at the screen.

Fan’s name is Jessica. You’ll be roleplaying with her as a husband. She’s your wife, and you just came home from work. Try to make it sound like a dating sim. Keep things light and PG-13, but make it seem real.

I close my eyes.

“Got it?” Jacob asks, taking the iPad from me. I’ve been doing this since I debuted at thirteen years old. I know what I’m doing, but I hate it even more now than I used to. I open my eyes and nod.

We’re given a countdown, and I smile. I can see myself in the monitor on my right, so I’m able to check on my own facial expressions. I look like I did in the morning when I stared at myself in the mirror and thought about Lake. This is exactly what I looked like.

My smile slips, and then there’s a video on another monitor. The fan’s face is hidden which happens sometimes if they request anonymity, but … here I am, and everyone can see me and everyone knows who I am.

“Hey Jessica,” I say, like I know her, and then she screams and starts laughing. “I hear you have some questions for me?”

It takes her a minute of giggling and stumbling over her own words to get it out, but I just laugh along with her, and I wonder what Lake would think if she could see me right now. She might, on her phone downstairs or something. But if she were here, would she be able to tell that I’m uncomfortable?

For years, I’ve had zero boundaries. None. Anyone could look or touch or think or want anything about me, and I’m just there. I belong to everybody, and it’s exhausting.

Yet, I would rather die than give it up.

What does that make me?

“If you were my husband, and you came home from work and found me in a silk robe, what would you do first?” the girl asks me, and I force myself to keep my breathing calm. We all know what she’s getting at, but I have to play coy and pretend like I don’t know.

“I’d probably pour you a glass of wine,” I say, which is my usual generic response to this sort of thing. But then I think about Lake and pouring her some wine last night. My expression shifts a little, and Jessica giggles again. If I were truly looking at her this way, maybe her giggles would be warranted. But I’m not thinking about her. She doesn’t even exist. “I’d only let you cook if I beat you in the ring toss game we played in the pool. I’d let you pick the movie. I’d let you tuck your foot under my thigh in case your toes were cold.”

“Oh,” Jessica breathes, and Jacob is smiling, giving me a nod of approval. Daniel is staring with narrowed eyes like he always does. Maggie waits nearby with a bottle of water in her hand. “That’s … nice.” Jessica wets her lips, and it stays silent for so long that she decides to fill the space for us. Jacob is waving at me, but I’m just sitting there, thinking. “What else? Would you take me to bed?” I exhale to force out the discomfort of that question. “Tam, I love you. Every song. I’ve loved you since you debuted. You’re amazing.”

“Thank you so much for riding this journey out with me. I know I wasn’t very experienced in the beginning, but I hope I’m improving and getting better. I just want all of my fans to be proud of me.” I smile, thankful that we’re nearly done with this. At least these fan calls only last a few minutes.

“Would you go on a date with me, Tam Eyre?” Jessica asks, and I see Jacob nodding in approval. He’s not telling me to say yes, but I know he’s monitoring the live comments and that he likes what he sees. He looks up and then nods again, this time as an affirmative.

Wait. He does want me to say yes?

“If I weren’t already dating Kaycee Quinn, you know that I would,” I tell her with a gentle whisper that has her chest and neck blushing. Still can’t see her face. “I’ll talk to you later, Jessica, okay?”

Only, I never will. I won’t even remember her later.

“I love you, Tam. You’re so hot you’d make the stars cry,” she calls out, and I beg the director to cut the video and give me the all-clear. “I’d have your babies, Tam Eyre. I love you so much. I love you.”

The call ends, and I smile one more time for the camera.

“I appreciate and love all of my Tambourines. Remember to stay cute, confident, and true to yourself.” I make a heart with my thumb and pointer finger, blow a kiss, and then I stand up and walk out.

“Good work today,” Jacob says as I breeze past him, heading back in the direction of the main house. We’re in the mother-in-law unit right now. I wasn’t willing to bring a whole crew down on Lake when I have her here as a guest.

I head into the house, wanting to talk to her, curious to see what her response to that video was.

But then I find her asleep on the sofa, one arm slung over the side, phone on the ground beside her hand. I pick it up and find my video open on her screen. I see a comment that she submitted a few minutes before the official start of the livestream.

I don’t understand why this sort of disrespect is allowed. Save Tam Eyre from this hell. Her comment has thirty-thousand likes, but it’s the only one she ever posted. She must’ve fallen asleep fairly quickly. It is late, nearly four in the morning. The fan caller was from the UK, so we had to work on her timetable.

I squat down beside Lake and reach out, giving her shoulder a gentle shake.

Lake’s eyelids flutter open, and I see right to the root of my problem.

I’m afraid of what I’m feeling.

I don’t want to mess up the career that I sacrificed everything to have. I also deserve to have a personal life, to be happy.

“Wait, are you done?” Lake asks, struggling to sit up and then wiping her mouth with the sleeve of my jacket. She must’ve gotten cold and put it back on after I left. I like the way she looks in it, the fabric voluminous and wrinkled around her.

“All done.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how that happened.” Lake grabs her phone and tries to press start on the video, but I reach out and take her wrist. “You don’t want me to watch it?” she asks, and I shake my head. Lake thinks for a minute, nods, and then draws her hand away and slips her phone in her pocket. She could be recording us right now, could be waiting for something scandalous to happen between us so that she can post it.

Something dark stirs in me, and I see why she called me mean-spirited before. It must’ve been these urges that she was sensing, the ones that are telling me to make something scandalous happen so that I can test her. I want Lake to pass my test so badly. I want to push her to the limit and watch her show up like she did yesterday.

I’m awful.

There’s a pillow on the floor, so I drop to my knees on it, exhaling and trying to let the shame and humiliation from the fan call go. Nobody is ever relaxed around me, so I can never be relaxed around them. Nobody is real. They’re always on their best behavior, looking to win me over. And the only time they’re being honest is if they’re being rude.

“Hey,” Lake says, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees. “You look tired, and I’m definitely tired. Do you want a cup of tea before bed? I bought chamomile.”

A cup of tea? Just a normal cup of tea and then some sleep? That’s it, all she’s asking out of me?

“I’d love that,” I tell her, and she nods, rising from the cushions and heading into the kitchen. I turn and put my back against the couch, sitting on the cushion on the floor with my legs kicked out. Lake hums as she starts the electric kettle and sets up two mugs with tea bags.

I’m half-asleep when she brings one to me, but I accept it and find myself relaxing when she turns off all the lights and sits on the left side of the couch. I’m on the floor in the middle, so she isn’t all that far from me. Her toes brush against my back when she adjusts her legs.

“Sorry,” she says, and I like that she apologizes for touching me. Every time. If I push her back, she moves away and lets me have space. But I also want her to touch me. I don’t know how to reconcile those two things. “If you don’t want me to see the video, I assume it was pretty bad?”

“I’ve been through worse,” I admit, and memories of that dog collar claw their way into my brain. “One lady asked me if I’d send her some of my sperm because she wanted to have a baby. I wouldn’t even have to raise it or give her child support.” I laugh, and then I can’t stop laughing. I almost spill my tea. “Who would want a baby with a man like that anyway?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at Lake.

“That’s … maybe I shouldn’t tell you this.”

I turn fully toward her, one arm thrown on the couch cushion by her leg, the other holding my mug.

“Tell me.” I’m serious. I want to hear this. Lake shifts in discomfort, her eyes darting away from me.

“When I was working your merch table, I heard a couple of girls trying to figure out if they could get jobs as hotel maids at places you’re staying. One of them said she wanted to steal your used tissues from the bedside trash can, so that she could rub them—”

“No.” I shake my head and take a sip of my tea. “You’re right. I was better off never knowing about that.” I pause and try not to be grateful that I always flush it down the toilet. A cum-soaked tissue in my trash can is national fucking news.

I take another sip of my tea.

“Let’s pretend your phone call was with my brother Joules. It’s just us here, alone. If you want to talk shit about Joules, you should do it. Tell me what Joules did that hurt you.” Lake’s suggestion is casual but loaded. This is as good a time as any to put some trust in her.

She’s also cute, trying to offer me a way to spill my real feelings about my fans under the pretense of gossiping about her brother.

I decide to tell Lake the truth.

“Sometimes, I just want to scream: do you even like my fucking music? It feels like everyone wants to sleep with me or date me, like they don’t give a crap about the songs. Other times, I stand onstage and let my head fall back, and I want to absorb the energy of the crowd. I love it.” More tea. It’s good. I don’t know the last time I had a cup of chamomile before bed. And Lake made it for me? I exhale. “I know that for every crazy fan, there are a hundred good ones. Those are the people I sing for, that I dance for.”

“You’re allowed to say no to anyone, at any time,” Lake tells me gently, but she doesn’t understand. As popular as I am, there are always people above me. The Hype CEO collects paychecks from dozens and dozens of megastars. Would she be able to ruin me if I disobeyed her? I don’t know. But she could knock me down from the top, and I’m not ready for it. I’m just not.

“I’m not allowed to say no, and I’m not allowed to be angry.” I think about how I can be extra testy with my mom, with Jacob, with Daniel even. It’s not fair to them, for me to be comfortable with so few people that I take all my negative emotions out on them. Lakelynn. I do it to her, too.

“You could start your own label if you wanted. Thomas, you are Tam. You’re Tam.” She pokes me in the middle of my back with a toe, stands up and snatches my mug. “Tell someone no sometime soon. Tomorrow. Do it tomorrow. Say something outrageous and tell someone no. I dare you.” Lake puts the mugs in the sink, waves at me over her shoulder, and disappears up the stairs.

I could marry someone like this, I think, and I fantasize about having Lake by my side for the rest of my life. Having a friend around always. Being able to … fuck that friend. I want to fuck her. I do.

But I can’t.

I absolutely cannot do that.

I dial Kaycee up again, but I’m still blocked. I send her a text telling her that we really need to talk. If I don’t hear from her, then she’ll be at our ‘date’ in a few days. She’s contractually obligated to be there, just like I am.

I exhale and then I go upstairs, and I do one thousand-and-one push-ups before I go to sleep.

78 bobas left until they both die …

My day starts about an hour and forty minutes after I fall asleep. Jacob appears in my room, shaking my shoulder.

“Tam, we have an issue.”

I’m out of bed now, still wearing pajamas, and nursing a cup of strong coffee in the kitchen with Jacob, my mom on speakerphone, and the CEO’s assistant, Kyle, smiling at us from the screen of a laptop.

The video in question is of me, throwing up in a trash can at dance practice. I didn’t sleep the night before, had barely eaten, had been rushed from one event to another. I basically crashed hard, threw up the water I was drinking, and then I passed out.

Now I’m having to watch it all over again, and it’s everywhere. It’s everywhere.

He looks hot when he pukes. Look at those stomach muscles contract.

His face is so angelic when he’s lying on the ground.

Poor baby *crying face* Mama will lick your wounds.

The video isn’t that bad, compared to what it might’ve been. But it’s the comments that are ripping me up.

“We’ll get your doctor to say you had the flu,” my mom is saying, and I’m having trouble processing her words. I didn’t have the flu; I was worked to the point of collapse. But she’s right. We can’t let anyone know about that.

“That sounds good to me,” I say, looking over at Kyle. He nods and signs his approval immediately.

“Are you excited about the meet and greet today?” he asks me, but then he doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “This should be good. Every girl that’s going to be there is at the top of her game on TikTok. You could do much worse. Alright, good work all, and I’ll talk to you later.” He hangs up.

“TikTok?” I repeat. I’d been under the impression that these girls were the winners of our big social media giveaway.

“This is an influencer meet and greet,” my mom explains over the phone, but I can already hear her moving things around, prepping for the million tasks that need doing in my day that I don’t even know about. “No velvet rope, casual touching, a lot of mingling. Tam, mingling.”

“I hear you,” I reply easily, already imagining how the rest of my day is going to pan out.

“Let’s get you ready,” Jacob says, examining my face with a frown. “We’ll need extra time in makeup to hide these circles.”

So off we go. I don’t think about the fan call last night because I’m thinking about a cup of chamomile tea instead.

Into hair and makeup, out the door, to a breakfast meeting I wasn’t aware of until I got there. A veggie omelet for breakfast. I eat half. We pause on the way out of the restaurant, and I lean my back against the wall, kick up my foot. I make a peace sign, and Maggie writes a caption based loosely on some questions she asks me about the restaurant while we walk.

This place has the best omelets. *heart, heart, heart* That’s what’s posted to my Instagram account under my name. We drive to a news station, and I do a performance for a show that I’ll never watch. On the way out the back doors, we’re swarmed.

The velvet rope falls over and there are people all around me. Some of them are shouting, some are crying. I’ve got hands all over me. Everywhere. On my crotch. Squeezing my ass. Rubbing palms over my chest and my midsection, wrapping around my thighs.

I slump into the SUV and Daniel closes the door. I reach up to adjust my sunglasses and realize that they’re gone. My face mask is gone. My ballcap is gone. I sit there in silence while we drive to the next place, a fancy brunch spot where I won’t be eating because I’m supposed to wait until dinner.

There are eight girls at this brunch, and I greet them all, shake hands, let them kiss my cheeks.

I remind myself that I have amazing fans, too. I have people who love me on TikTok who share my music because they genuinely enjoy it, who are worried about me and would be upset if they knew I was overworked and tired and violated in a million small ways every day.

But it’s just me here, by myself.

Most of the girls are nice, but one of them follows me to the bathroom and waits outside. When I step out the door, she’s right there.

“Do you want to hang out later?” she asks me with a shrug. “Get something to eat?”

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” I tell her as nicely as I can, smiling back.

Forty minutes later, she uploads a video of me—pissing.

My dick is in that video.

I lean my head back against the SUV seat, eyes closed, and try not to hear Jacob telling me that this is a good thing because my cock is perceived well online.

I go back to the house, leap out of the SUV, and storm inside.

I slam the front door.

I go upstairs, and I am mad. I’ve had a fucking awful day, and I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s best if I’m alone, but then I remember that Lake is here somewhere …

I can’t look for her right now and risk being a dick, so I flop onto my bed and close my eyes. When I make the mistake of glancing at my phone, I see that a new gif from my music video “Break Up With Me” has gone viral. It’s a scene of me licking my lips. I read some comments.

I want to ride that face so bad.

If Tam Eyre told me that we’re breaking up, I’d probably kill us both. *sweaty face emoji*

I turn the phone off, shove it in the nightstand drawer, and try to get some sleep.

When I open my eyes, there’s a cup of chamomile tea on the nightstand, and my heart breaks.

I shove up to my feet, and I go in search of Lakelynn.

I don’t have to go very far. I nearly slam into her back in the hallway, and she whirls around in surprise, slapping a hand over her chest.

“Oh my God, you scared me so bad.” She’s panting now and laughing intermittently. I feel myself relax a little. Everyone else is fake, but Lake is real. For whatever reason, I want to believe that she’s as genuine as she says she is. If this is the real her, then I like the real her. A lot. “Are you okay? You looked cranky when you came back, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, but I feel better now, with her here. It’s like the day I just suffered through didn’t happen, like it wasn’t even real. I wasn’t even awake until I came back here and saw her. It’s ten o’clock at night now, and I’ve been gone all day. Been up since five in the morning. But I feel okay right here, with Lake.

“I was cranky, but I think I’m fine now.” I reach up a hand, and I press a palm against Lake’s cheek. Her skin flushes, and she looks up at me through freckles, through surprise.

“I know you’re tired, so I don’t want to keep you up long. But I also know that you’ll be gone before checkout tomorrow, and that I probably won’t see you. Maybe this isn’t the right time, but I need to get it out there.”

I leave my hand on her cheek, but I’m nervous. Stiff. I wait, my breathing a little bit labored.

“Are you in love with Kaycee Quinn?” It’s a very gentle question, a very earnest question. I hear it all the time, but this isn’t like that. This is something else.

It’s a fair question.

It’s completely fair, but it upsets me anyway. I answer as nicely but as honestly as I can.

“No. I’m not in love with anyone.”

Lake exhales and nods her head, like that’s a good thing.

“Maybe,” she starts softly, reaching up to put her hand over mine, “you should break up with her? I’m not saying you have to date me, but I think … we’d be able to explore things, if you did.”

I slowly pull my hand back, away from Lake’s cheek and out from under her hand.

I have no idea how to respond to that. Lake is right, of course. I know that. I was going to break up with Kaycee anyway, but … the way she asked … I hear that all the time. All the time.

Lake is different, but I’m angry. She told me to say something outrageous, to tell someone no.

Give yourself some space. I turn and walk back into the room, draw my phone out of the drawer, but not because I want it. Just a distraction. Something for my hands to do while I think. I power it on.

“Well? You don’t have a response?” Lake asks, coming over to stand next to the nightstand. “Tam?”

I look down and see that I’ve gotten a text, not from Kaycee, but from Joules.

It’s him with his arm around Kaycee, and they’re both laughing.

Then he sends me a middle finger emoji.

I exhale gently, trying to shake my irritation. If Joules were here, I’d probably throw a punch. I’d start a fight with him, and I wouldn’t hold back. A career-ending move, if Joules were seriously hurt or made a big deal out of it.

I’m already making mistakes because of Lakelynn.

My phone buzzes, and I see that it’s a message from Jacob telling me that they’re having trouble taking down the video of me pissing. I click the link he just sent me, and I stare down at the number of views. Scroll to the comments.

Half of them are about sucking me off.

I put the phone back, shut the drawer, and cross my arms over my chest.

Lake just stands there, waiting.

“That’s what you want?” I ask, voice soft. Lake wets her lips and shifts nervously, but she doesn’t retreat. She holds her ground against me, and I like that, too.

“You know I need your help to break the curse. Of course at some point, you would have to break up with Kaycee. Yes, that is what I want. Date me instead of her.”

It’s a bold move, one that might’ve worked on me yesterday, but that is most definitely not working on me today.

“So, you want to fuck me? Like everyone else?” I ask, which isn’t fair to her. But I look up and find that Lake is still holding her ground.

“Eventually, yes. Eventually, I would like that. But we don’t have to rush into it. We can take it slow. That’s all I’m asking. More days like yesterday.”

“If you like me so much, you can have me,” I tell her, and her lips part in surprise.

“What?” she asks, like she didn’t hear me right.

I walk past her and over to the chair in the corner, sitting down with my knees splayed wide.

“If you like me, you can have me. Suck my dick. Right here, right now.” I reach down and unbutton my pants. I said that I wanted to do something scandalous, just to see how she’d respond. This is it. This is me being outrageous, but also saying no. Not to her, but to everyone else.

“Tam—” Lake starts, nose crinkled in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

“Well?” I ask, wetting my lips. I watch as her attention drops to my hands, as I open up my jeans. Lake might as well see me. The rest of the world already did. “Are you going to do it or not?”