55. Luna

"You're very quiet tonight," Ryder murmured as Kory told everyone the story of his disastrous trip to the Blayz Festival. I'd already heard it twice, so I'd mostly tuned him out.

"…and I guess the organisers thought that if there was a big enough crowd, it wouldn't matter that they didn't get the proper permissions for the event. But it did, and a thousand cops showed up halfway through the first day. When the bands ignored them and carried on, they cut the power. Can you believe that? Then they started arresting people for drugs. I didn't get to play my set, but man, I'm glad they didn't find my weed. Chad Bassington had, like, one joint in his pocket, and he spent three days in jail."

Slater was leaving tomorrow, so we'd booked a table at Coletta's Bar and Eatery for one last dinner together. Tadie had recommended the place—Coletta was her aunt, but she swore that didn't sway her opinion on the food, which was excellent. Plates piled high with fritters, deep bowls of rice and peas, dishes of spicy chicken and pork. My clothes were getting quite tight now.

"I'm okay. Just thinking."

"About your agent's phone call?"

I nodded. "This time yesterday, I had all these commitments. Studio time, live shows, interviews, personal appearances… And it's just…gone. I'm free, and I should be happy because wasn't that what I'd been dreaming of? But I also feel like a bit of a failure. Professionally, I mean. We've already established that my personal life is a disaster."

"You're not a failure, moon. You've been working for twenty-two years, and you've made more money than most people do in a lifetime."

"But I've never had an empty schedule before. It's weird."

"What about the Nile Palace thing?"

"Jubilee emailed Julius and told him to send the details. They say full creative control, but I bet they don't really mean it."

"You could always take a break. Reevaluate."

"Maybe? I'd settle for partial creative control if the show wasn't in Vegas."

"Isn't it easier having a show so close to home?"

Despite the heat and the endless humidity, I shuddered. Yes, I owned a house in Las Vegas, but it hadn't felt like home in a long time.

"Mom will be there, and believe me when I say she's not going to take my change in direction well." I clung to Ryder's hand, and a shiver ran through me when he brushed his thumb over my knuckles. "If she forces me back into rehab, promise you won't believe the stories you read in the papers? I'm not exhausted or suffering a breakdown, and I don't have an eating disorder or a substance abuse problem. Unless you count acetaminophen because she gives me a constant headache."

"I understand where you're coming from."

"Ryder, who do you work for?" I asked. He'd been at my side for over a month, but I had a sickening feeling that his contract was with my management company rather than with me. And who owned the management company? My mom.

"Blackwood Security." He gave me a puzzled look. "You know that."

"Yes, but Mom hired you, and she signed the contract. You're here to protect me, but I think you're working for her."

"Moon, I don't give a fuck about the contract. I'm working for you."

Ryder said it with such vehemence that I sagged in my seat. He was on my side. Not Mom's, not Cordelia's, not his own, mine. I'd never had an actual ally before, and the revelation made me want to weep with relief.

"If I left here tomorrow and flew to Vegas, would you help me to grab as much of my stuff as I can from my house? I think I'm gonna check into a hotel for a while."

"I'll be by your side the whole way."

"Do you think I'd be doing the right thing?"

"Yeah, I do. Moon, you're a different person than you were a month ago. Back then, you were only focused on making other people happy—your family, your record label, the world. Now you've learned to think about yourself too." He hooked an arm around my shoulder and squeezed. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

The words were foreign. Despite all that I'd achieved, the trophies I'd won, the charts I'd topped, the shows I'd sold out, I'd never once heard those words from the person who I thought mattered. My mom. She always wanted more, more, more. Nothing was ever enough. But now, I realised who truly mattered, and that was the man sitting next to me. Go figure. My new bestie was a guy. I'd seen those magazine articles that said every girl needed a gay best friend, but I hadn't believed them. Were we supposed to go shopping together now? What did Ryder know about colour? He mostly wore grey and black.

He kissed my hair in that sweet way of his. "If you ever need a bolthole, there's a spare bedroom at our place in Virginia. Knox and Slater won't mind if you stay there for a few weeks."

Really? A month ago, I would have said no way, but Knox had never acted sleazy toward me, and Slater seemed to come out of the same mould. And I trusted that Ryder wouldn't put me in danger. Mom wouldn't be able to track my credit card and find me, and I wouldn't have to deal with strangers poking around my room every day. Plus Caro was slowly becoming a friend. We'd gotten off to a shaky start, but that had been my fault as much as hers, and now we'd bonded over turtles and skinny-dipping. She'd left her chair to sit on Knox's lap, and I envied her that closeness. She'd been through the same thing I had, even worse seeing as she'd been kidnapped too, but she didn't have that mental block that stopped her from having a relationship.

"Can I sleep on it?" I asked Ryder.

"You can do whatever you?—"

The slap came out of nowhere, right across his face. He jumped to his feet in an instant. Slater too, then Knox a second after that, once he'd deposited Caro back into her own seat. But none of them seemed to know what to do about the small but furious brunette standing before us with her hands on her hips.

But I knew. "Don't you touch him!"

I was ready to claw her freaking eyes out when Knox's arm snaked around my waist and hauled me back against him.

"Easy, Luna."

"Let go of me!"

"There are enough pictures of you on the internet already this week."

Okay, so he had a point, but the woman had just hit Ryder. Who even was she? Later, when I looked back on that evening, I wished I'd never found out.

"I've been waiting for over two years to do that," she hissed, her eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

"Do we know each other?" Ryder asked.

"I was one of your bridesmaids, you asshole!"

Was this an April Fools' joke? Today was April first, but weren't the pranks supposed to finish at noon? Slowly, Ryder's expression turned from confusion to recognition to shock, and I realised that whatever was going on, it was real. He glanced at me, then looked back at the brunette.

"Mia?"

"That was for Shylah."

"Who's Shylah?" I asked.

"His ex-wife. The one he abandoned in Iowa. He was supposed to stay home with her after he quit the Navy—her daddy even bought them a house—but oh, no, he just had to carry on gallivanting. Jerk."

Ryder had been married? Like, to a woman? The news sent a chill through me, a cold, crackling wave that threatened to snap my spine. He was straight? Had he lied to me? Or…or… I clutched at straws. Maybe he'd felt pressure to conform, from family, from the military, from society, and he'd worried about coming out. So he'd married a woman, a woman he loved in a different way, until he found the courage to be true to himself. Hadn't he said he was proud of me for doing that? What if he'd been speaking from experience?

"I never should have married her," he murmured.

"No, you shouldn't. She cried for months after you left. Months. Lost thirty pounds, stopped getting out of bed, all because you're a jackass." She turned to me. "Take my advice and escape while you can, girl. He'll only break your heart in the end."

"We're not dating, and I'm actually proud of him for finally coming out."

"Coming out? Wait, you think he's gay?" Mia snorted. "Ryder isn't gay. He's just a filthy liar who's obsessed with his dead girlfriend, the one he'll never get over. Never. You're competing for his attention with a ghost."

I opened my mouth to snap back at her, but then I looked to Ryder, and I saw from the horror on his face that it was true. It was all true. He'd lied to me. Lied to me about the most important of things and left out a whole lot more besides. The green tinge suggested he was going to puke.

Mia just picked up his glass of water and threw it over him.

"Have a nice life," she snapped and stormed off.

"Moon…" Ryder started, but I cut him off.

"Don't you call me that. You don't get to pretend to care anymore. Was this a game to you? Let's mess with Luna's head? You know how I feel about men. I told you things I've never told anyone before, and all because you gained my trust under false pretences." He took a step forward; I took a step back. "Get the heck away from me."

I ran for the bathroom, the only place where I could hope for some privacy. People already had their phones out, recording us. Recording me. I locked myself into a stall, and then the tears came. The moment I finally found a tiny glimmer of happiness, a sliver of hope for the future, it fell apart. My body shook as I sobbed, and now I had no one. Not one single person I trusted.

Minutes passed. Somebody came to use the toilet, and I kept a hand over my mouth until they flushed, then let myself cry again. How was I even going to get out of here? Wait until the restaurant closed and then sneak through the window?

A soft knock sounded, and I jumped.

"Get lost."

"Are you okay?" Caro asked.

"Of course I'm not o-freaking-kay. Just keep him away from me."

"Knox made him leave."

"He'll probably circle back, the sneaky, conniving jerk."

"That's what Knox figured, so he went with him to make sure that didn't happen. Can I do anything to help?"

"N-n-no. Did you know? That Ryder likes women? Am I the only idiot?"

"Not for sure, but I saw the way he looked at you."

"How did he look at me?"

"As if…as if he was the night sky and you were the stars."

"What does that even mean?"

"It's a metaphor. Like he was the darkness, and you were his light."

"I'm not his anything." Not even his friend, not anymore. How could I be when he'd broken my trust? "I need to get away from this place."

"Slater's waiting to take you back to the Cleopatra."

This time, it was Caro by my side as I hurried past people who wouldn't stop staring at me. Kory tucked my pashmina around my shoulders and gave my arm a sympathetic squeeze.

"Guess you'll be on Insta again tomorrow."

I was so, so sick of social media. Of belonging to everyone but myself.

Jubilee was paying the bill, and I kept my head down, using Caro as a shield. My life was out of control. This was what I'd always feared—that if I pulled back from writing my own story, then the narrative would take on a life of its own. That my vulnerabilities would be laid bare for all to see.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the waitress said. "Your card's been declined."

"Huh? It definitely shouldn't have been. Could you try it?—"

"Use mine." I fumbled for the little purse that held my phone and a few other essentials. "Just hurry up."

The waitress took my card, only for the embarrassment to continue as my card got rejected too. If this wasn't the worst night of my life, it was undoubtedly in the top five.

"Did your accountant forget to pay the bill?" Kory joked as he handed over his own Amex.

Jubilee bit her lip. "I don't know. He hasn't been replying to my emails."

"Maybe he died? Has someone checked his office for a corpse?"

"Can we not talk about death?" I shuddered. "Don't you think we've all had enough of that?"

Finally, we managed to escape from the restaurant, and Slater walked two steps behind as Caro shepherded me back to the Cleopatra. The whole way, I was on edge, nails digging into my palms as I waited for Ryder to leap out of a souvenir store or pop up from behind an ornamental flower box. Even after we boarded, I still felt strung out, a rubber band waiting to snap. I sat on a bar stool, shaking as I drank neat vodka from the bottle while people I barely knew and didn't trust talked about me behind my back. Part of me wanted to run to my cabin, to cry alone, but it hadn't only been my cabin. It had been our cabin. Ryder had slept on my bed. I'd woken with his arm across my stomach, trapping me, only I hadn't felt trapped, I'd felt protected. Now I just felt betrayed.

Finally, Caro came over.

"Jubilee's asking if she should book flights for tomorrow," Caro said.

"Yes, she should." As long as she could get her stupid credit card to work, anyway.

"Where do you want to go?"

That was a good question.