Chapter 1 - Lottie

If I had to choose a city to abscond from my life, Las Vegas would be it. Thankfully, that happens to be where the last show of my tour takes place. It worked out perfectly.

Trying to plan an escape from the mansion or a less populated city would be more difficult. There wouldn't be an ever-present flowing crowd of people to conceal one inconspicuous girl like there is here. Night or day, thousands of people are ever-changing on the streets and in the casinos. Even with the most cameras in one place in the world, a person can still disappear amongst the crowds. And that's exactly what I want.

Luna helped me plan the whole thing. Contacting her surprisingly confidential people. One was a girl named Ginger who got me set up in a cabin in Snowberry, Montana. Even the name sounds perfect. I'm so excited to be leaving that my final performance has a little extra pep to it that my team misinterprets as a performance high.

Really, I'm just nervous my mother will interfere or catch me. That something will go wrong, or one of the few people who know what's going on will spill the beans and rat me out for a hefty payday. I'll just have to keep my fingers crossed and stay optimistic that things will go my way for once.

My personal assistant Sabrina and my extensive security team meet me the moment I step out of my dressing room backstage at the Sphere, where I just finished my last song. I'm still wearing my closing outfit: thigh-high silver boots with sparkling Swarovski crystals, metallic high-waisted booty shorts, and matching crop top. I feel a little like a walking disco ball. I think my stylist wanted me to be seen from space. Which is a shame, considering it was an indoor venue.

Not changing out of my stage outfit and taking a visible route back to my hotel suite is all part of the plan. Draw attention to myself, show off for a bit, make sure I'm seen and adored so my mother will be more likely to leave me alone for long enough to escape.

My security team today consists of no less than six large men dressed in black with matching earpieces, Luna at their lead. Ever since the inception of our plan, she's stuck closer to me than she had been before. Taking less time away and being my silent cheerleader. Every time I looked at her, she would give me a secretive smile, saying, "Keep going, you're almost there." Even now I can't help but smirk in her direction.

Keeping this secret from Sabrina has been difficult. As my personal assistant, it's literally her job to be my shadow and get me what I need. Wedging time out to discuss the specifics with Luna felt like I was part of the CIA, but we did it. Late-night rendezvous and whispered conversations in the back of limos have all led to this—here and now.

Hours, I am hours away from freedom. I've contractually fulfilled all my obligations. The tour is over, and I can leave with no guilt weighing me down.

My circle of black-clad muscle guides Sabrina and me backstage and, under Luna's direction, towards the area where fans are known to wait to see the musicians and performers up close and personal on their way out. Since my mother is off "managing" whatever it is she manages at the end of a show—probably the paycheck to make sure they pay as much as she can squeeze out of them—Sabrina is the only one I have left to deal with.

We step out into the dry Nevada heat that never seems to dissipate. Thankfully, the sun is far beyond the horizon, and the strip is lit by its ever-present flashing neon lights.

A crowd of over a hundred waits for me, and I smile, for once not having to fake it. I'm actually happy right now.

"Is this the way you're supposed to be going? I'm sure I heard your Miss Susan mention something about avoiding signing autographs after the show. I don't think she would approve of this change."

Poor Sabrina. She's a nice girl but far too concerned about losing her job because she didn't follow every minute instruction from my mother, who asked to call her Miss Susan like a kindergarten teacher. Allowing them to just call her Susan was too informal for "the help," and calling her Ms. Anderson made her feel old. Sadly, Sabrina wouldn't be the first PA to be fired over such a thing, and it pains me to see the panic and fear in her pretty brown eyes.

She pushes her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose, magnifying her dark green eyes, which shift back and forth from me to the crowd behind me. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she can't help but fiddle with the tablet in her hand. I grab her free hand, forcing her to stop twitching and look at me.

"It's okay Sabrina, I talked to her about it earlier. I wanted to do something special for the fans at my last stop on the tour. As a matter of fact, I plan on taking a bit of time to myself to recover and relax. Why don't you take the next few days off as I won't need you? Okay?"

I squeeze her hand and give her a reassuring smile hoping she won't freak the fuck out, and run right to my mother to clear it with her. From the concerned pinch to her mouth, I have a feeling that might be exactly what she's thinking.

"Don't worry about my mother. You're not going to get in trouble with her. I'll even throw in a bonus for all your hard work. Thank you so much for everything you do for me. Take this time to go see your family or visit a spa."

Sabrina blows out a breath that deflates her entire posture.

"You sure? I don't want to leave you if you need me."

"I am absolutely sure. I'll let you know if I need you, but don't bother worrying about me. Focus on yourself for once."

She nods, and I hug her before having one of the security team lead her back to her hotel room. Like most of the crew and team, I'm hoping she leaves tomorrow as planned. We craftily arranged for almost everyone to leave the day after the end of the tour, while I had decided to "hide out" in my penthouse suite in Vegas for a few days to decompress and have a little me time.

It took a while to convince my mother of it, but after months of wearing her down, we got her to agree to it. But I won't stay in Vegas and get spa treatments and room service. If all goes well, no one will even notice I'm gone for multiple days.

I walk out through the barricaded walkway and stop to sign autographs and pose for selfies, knowing these fans will most likely never have the opportunity again if I decide to remain in hiding.

After a good half hour, we finally reach the limo, and I get in, followed closely by Luna. I flop back into the seat and relax every muscle in my body, releasing every ounce of tension and anxiety I can.

My head lulls back onto the leather seat, and my long blonde ponytail pokes at the back of my head. I growl and shift my head from side to side until I'm comfortable enough not to rip my hair out of my skull.

"We'll be back to the hotel in twenty and back in your suite in no more than thirty. By tomorrow morning you'll be well on your way."

She doesn't say to where , just in case someone is listening. They wouldn't know what specifically we're talking about or where I'm on my way to. Could be to vacation, home, relaxing, whatever.

I smile up at the limo ceiling, imagining being in nature, in the forest with the trees and open sky, with absolutely no one around, especially no momager.

The daydream puts me at ease as it has over the past six months, and the last bits of anxiety drift away on the heated Nevada breeze.

"Almost there," I whisper to myself. Luna's keen hearing picks up on it; she always hears no matter how softly I whisper.

"Don't worry, Lottie. I've got you. Everything's set and nothing will get in the way. I have everything in line to ensure no one will even consider bothering you for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

"I think I may have gone insane without you, Luna. What can I ever do to repay you?" I ask, swiveling to look at her sitting at my side. She turns to me and gives me a serious look.

"Nothing. I want nothing from you other than for you to be happy and live your life as you see fit. No one should have another controlling their life. You deserve so much more, and I just hope you find it." She speaks in low, hushed words. Her voice laced with hopeful determination.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

As promised, I'm back at the door to my suite in the Bellagio in no more than thirty minutes. My anxiety and nerves all but replaced with relief and anticipation for tomorrow. It can't come any sooner.

Opening the door to the penthouse suite, I feel like I'm walking on air, that is until I notice a shock of platinum blonde hair sitting at the bar, sipping a glass of amber liquid. My light-as-air high becomes a rapid freefall without a parachute.

Fuck.

I took so long signing autographs and being seen by the fans that my mother had time to sneak into my room. I was hoping she wouldn't do this, considering everything we did to make sure she stayed far away from my room and me after the show.

"Mom. What are you doing here?" I can't keep the shock of surprise out of my voice, and I don't try.

"Alexandria. What took you so long? I thought you were heading right back to start your weekend of relaxation ?" Utter derision drips from her tone.

She doesn't approve of me taking time off. She doesn't like when the workhorse needs a break. In her mind, I should be working nonstop to create more award-winning records and bring in more money. That's all she's cared about for the last decade. Money and how much of it I can make for her.

"I thought I would give the fans a little something special to end the tour with. What's it to you? I thought you would be at the tables by now. Or on your way to wherever the hell it is, you go when you're not micromanaging every second of my life."

I can't help but be snarky with her. I have to get one last dig in because after tomorrow, I hope not to speak with her for many moons.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Alexandria."

I'd argue with her about calling me Alexandria and instead Lottie like Dad used to when I was younger before he died, but there's no point. I think that's why she doesn't call me by the nickname; It reminds her too much of our lives before his death and before all the fame and fortune. She doesn't want to remember the before. Not like I do. If she could, she would permanently wipe the memories from her mind, whereas I just want to return to those times. Playing guitar with my dad while singing along and dancing around the living room, enjoying the music. Enjoying life.

That's where my love of music came from, my father. It's because of him that I was drawn to music. He nurtured my natural talent, showing me what music can do and how much happiness it can create. How music can affect others and allow them to feel what I'm feeling through my words.

After he died, I made sure to continue playing, writing, and singing because I knew that's what he would have wanted me to do.

Unfortunately, after he died, something in my mom changed. The free, fun spirit she used to be with my father disappeared, and the stress of being a single parent and supporting us got to her. That's when she became the money-hungry, greedy, controlling, unfeeling person she is today.

I sigh and clench my teeth, biting back all the cruel things I want to say to her. They would only make things worse, and even though I despise her at this moment, she is still my mother, and I don't want to say something I can't take back.

"Why are you here, mother?" I ask again, hoping to get whatever the hell this is over with so she'll leave and I can prepare for tomorrow.

"I just don't understand why you need to stay here and take a few days off. Why can't we go home, and you can relax there?"

She stands and flips her long platinum hair over her shoulder. I think she makes me keep mine long so we can match, and people can easily associate her with me. Since she has no talent, the most fame she's ever going to get is being known as my mother and manager.

"Because I'm always in that house. I just want to be somewhere different and just have some time away from everything and everyone."

She scoffs, and I scowl. The fact that I have to beg my mother for a few days of alone time to do as I please is ridiculous. But I'm so close to the finish line that I'm not going to trip now by arguing with her and losing my window of opportunity. Once I'm away and out of her clutches, I'll be able to breathe and make all the decisions for myself without her breathing fire down my neck.

"Look, Mom, it's only a few days, and we already agreed to it. I have massage therapists, cosmetologists, dermatologists, and estheticians all booked and ready. Just let me have this. I've been going nonstop for the past six months since the American leg of the tour started, and I need this in order to keep going."

I don't often try to sweet talk her or use begging to get what I want; normally, I argue and strong-arm her to get anything out of her.

I give her my most dejected and pleading look without looking too hopeful.

"Fine," she concedes in a clipped tone.

I want to scream, but instead, I drop my shoulders and soften my expression to hopefully make her think this was all her doing, that I'm so grateful she gave me such a gift. She loves feeling like the powerful one in our dynamic.

"Thank you, Mom."

"Just be ready to get back to work when it's over. We have a meeting scheduled with the label about your next album and some legal things we need to go over."

She grabs her sparkly clutch, and the echoing click of her stilettos on the tile floor as she crosses the space makes me want to cringe. That sound is the equivalent of the Jaws theme song in my mind.

I also notice how she glosses over "legal things," like I don't know my contract is ending, and she wants to try and trap me in another one without my knowledge. She has no idea what I know. She likes to micromanage from a distance, so she never saw me reading and rereading my contract and doing research on my rights and the consequences of breaking a contract.

I know that as of the moment I stepped off that stage, my contract was complete and fulfilled, leaving me legally free to do whatever the fuck I please. But if I let on that, I know that she would no doubt somehow ensure I could never escape. She would have people following me and keeping tabs on me more so than the regular security check-ins. She thinks she has me so far under her thumb that I would never even consider leaving. And that's exactly how I want her. Na?ve and blind.

"Will do, Mom. See you in a few days."

I lead her with a guiding hand towards the door, subtly telling her to get the fuck out. She does with nothing more than a wave over her shoulder. She really has forgotten what it means to be a mother.

I exhale with a relieved breath when she's on the other side of the locked door.

"That was close."

"If she wouldn't have left on her own, I would have made her."

"I would have loved to see that but I'm glad she didn't argue more. If she goes willingly, she's less likely to return."

Luna side-eyes me like I'm speaking Klingon. I just roll my eyes at her. My mother is gone and there's only one night left between me and freedom.