“Come on. Come on. Come on,” I argued with my phone as I dialed Blaire for what felt like the millionth time.
Still fucking nothing.
I nearly threw it against the wall with irritation.
“Hey, you’ll get ahold of her,” Viv said. “It will be fine.”
Santi nodded. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Blaire is strong,” West added. He was slumped into a seat nearby, looking solemn.
Only Yorke said nothing.
“She was fucking mobbed the last time we were photographed together. I don’t have high hopes for the rest of humanity,” I growled.
A half hour ago, Micky had stalled recording when he got a call from Bobby. A minute after that, we were all in front of the computer screen, staring at breaking celebrity news on TMZ about Campbell Abbey’s new girlfriend. The picture featured was us standing together in Lubbock after she finished shooting with Nate. We weren’t even touching, but just the way I looked at her…fuck, it was so obvious that I was in love with her.
That all might have been okay, but the headline read, “At Last, We Meet the ‘I See the Real You’ Girl.” I’d slammed my fist into the wall when I read it. My knuckles were bleeding, which was the only damage done.
But my anger, once ignited, was an inferno. I was snapping at everyone. Getting progressively more irritated and terrified that I couldn’t get ahold of Blaire. English had called and was already running interference on the whole thing. It was a disaster. We had a matter of days before we were going to go public, and now, this bullshit.
Controlling the narrative was important. I knew that. And now, we were fucked.
English kept saying it would be fine, but it didn’t feel fine. I wouldn’t feel fine until Blaire was safely tucked into my arms again. Until then, I was going to fucking freak out.
I dialed the number again, holding the phone to my ear and pacing relentlessly. Finally, the line clicked over.
I gave a relieved sigh. “Blaire?”
“Hey,” she said, her voice all shaky and full of tears.
My heart contracted at that sound. “Oh, thank God. Are you okay?”
She was slow to respond. “I…I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
“The news about our relationship broke.”
“I know,” I said on a sigh. “I saw the article on TMZ.”
“Apparently, I’m the ‘I See the Real You’ girl now,” she said, “and your fans don’t like that.”
“What did they do?” I asked, low and dangerous. I didn’t have much interaction with the Campbell Soup girls, but if they hurt Blaire, I would burn the world down.
“Some paparazzi found me based off the videos in my Stories, I guess. And the Campbell Soup girls found me the same way. I was kind of bombarded. I ran away, and I’m hiding in a bathroom.”
“Fuck.” She was hiding in a bathroom. “I’m so fucking sorry, Blaire. I should have been there. I should have handled all of this for you.”
She swallowed back more tears. “Yeah. I mean, yeah, I don’t know.”
“Where are you? Can you send me your location? I’ll come pick you up.”
Santi shook his head in front of me. “Send someone. It’ll be worse if you’re seen.”
“I am picking her up,” I spat at him.
“Campbell,” West said with a sigh, “think about who you are.”
Viv crossed her arms. “He’s right.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“What’s going on?” Blaire asked on the phone.
“Nothing. Santi thinks I should send a car to retrieve you. I was going to drive out there.”
“Your car is recognizable,” Viv argued.
“She’s right,” Blaire said after clearly hearing Viv that time. “Just send someone. I’ll meet you at the studio.”
I hated this. I hated it so fucking much. I couldn’t even safely pick up my girlfriend when she was in distress.
“If that’s what you want,” I told her.
“Please,” she whispered. So small. Not at all the fierce, wonderful woman I was in love with.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said the words for her sake.
“Yeah. I’ll send the location.”
We said good-bye, and then a second later, I had a location. Viv was already on the phone with a car service. I showed her the address, and she had them send over a car to pick her up.
“Thank you.”
Viv touched my shoulder. “I know this feels like terrible, but it’s going to be okay. Blaire knew that this was always a possibility when she came out with us.”
“I just fucking hate it.”
“Price of fame,” Santi said. “Unfortunately.”
“You’ll feel a lot better when she’s here,” West said.
Yorke nodded.
They were right. Yet I wanted someone to channel my anger into. I needed something to make me not want to punch the wall again. I was a caged animal on the prowl. I’d had girlfriends before I got back together with Blaire, but they had all been in the spotlight. They’d all known how to deal with this. We hadn’t even bothered hiding it because it didn’t matter. None of it had mattered.
This mattered.
She mattered.
And waiting for her to get here in one piece was like slowly dying.
When she appeared a full hour later—fuck you, LA traffic—she’d composed herself. The tears were gone. Her eyes were only lined in red. She took one look at me, and a half-smile hit her lips. Something cracked in my chest at that look. Fuck, I loved her.
“I lost my tripod,” she muttered.
She threw herself into my arms, and I squeezed her tight to me. “Oh, Blaire.”
“I had it with me, and when I got to that bathroom, it was gone.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll replace it.”
“Okay,” she said, so soft and pliant.
“Are you okay though?”
She nodded. “All in one piece. My claustrophobia really doesn’t like that this keeps happening to me.”
“I don’t like it either.”
“Glad you made it, Blaire,” West said with a head nod.
She swallowed and shot him a smile. “Me too. That was a nightmare.”
“We’ve been there,” Viv said. “Remember that time in Brazil?”
Santi groaned. “How could I forget? We were chased down the street, and we had security.”
“Campbell was accosted that one time in a restaurant in Shanghai. I thought the girls were going to strip him naked in the place,” Viv reminded us.
“Or when a Peppermint Patty group snuck backstage. Where were we for that?” Santi asked.
Yorke smirked. “Edinburgh.”
“That’s right! It was nuts.”
Blaire nodded. “I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to make this seem normal.”
“No. There’s no normal about it, babe,” Viv said. “It’s why we remember the worst offenders. It’s never fun. Crazed fans and paparazzi are part of the life, but it’s what we try to avoid as much as we can.”
“It’s half the reason I liked being back in Lubbock,” I admitted. Though I had never said that out loud. People for the most part left me alone there. I could come and go in LA, but I had to live in the Hills, behind a gate. There was a reason Lubbock was more enjoyable.
“And the other half?” Blaire asked.
“All you, love.” I kissed her palm. “All you.”
That was the minute English stormed into the room. “Jesus fucking Christ, the 10 is a goddamn nightmare today. It makes the 405 look like a walk in the park.” She swished her long blonde hair off her shoulders. “But I am here now, and we will fix this.” She took one look at Blaire and frowned. “Campbell filled me in. How are you?”
Blaire shrugged. “Not my best day.”
“I imagine not. I’ve seen some of the footage. You look like a deer in headlights. I think it works for us because you’re so endearing on camera. And you’re clearly scared. Sympathy points are helpful.”
The rest of the band nodded at English as they headed back out to the studio. West frowned like he wanted to say something more, but he just touched Blaire’s shoulder and then disappeared.
“How did this even get leaked?” I demanded as Blaire sank into Yorke’s abandoned seat.
“I’m still not sure. The source was anonymous to TMZ. But I’d guess it was either someone who saw you in Lubbock, or you were followed out there. I’ve put pressure in the field to find out, but I’m not hopeful that they’ll give away their sources.”
“Sounds right,” I grumbled. I’d thought we were safe in Lubbock, but again, I had been proven wrong.
“What are we going to do about it?” Blaire asked. “There’s no reason to go to the gala now.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” English said. “I absolutely think you should make it. They control the narrative right now. Let’s flip it on them and prove that we don’t care what they’ve done.”
“But we do,” I said.
She shrugged. “They don’t have to see that from you again. We can still respond to select reporters. We can continue to practice what how you’re going to respond. You two will look so glamorous and stunning together that no one will even remember what happened today.”
Blaire bit her lip. “Do you think that’s possible?”
“The internet is forever, but media shifts so quickly. If we give them something else to focus on, it will pass. You have nothing to worry about.” She paused, glancing over at me and then back. “That is, if you still want to go through with it.”
“Do I have a choice?” Blaire demanded.
“Of course you have a choice.”
“They already know we’re together.”
“But we wanted that,” I said. “Not this way, but we were tired of hiding.”
Blaire sighed. “I mean, yes, but I didn’t want this either. And it’s scary, having people attack me like that. I don’t want it to happen again.”
“We’ll be more careful,” English cut in. “We have a plan. We’re running damage control. If you don’t want to appear because it leaked, then I understand. We can just post a picture of you two together on your account. Giving the middle finger to the press is also a perfectly acceptable way to handle this.”
She met my gaze. “What do you want to do?”
“Whatever makes you the happiest,” I told her. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. “We don’t have to go to the gala. We don’t have to do anything. I just want you safe and happy.”
She breathed out slowly, lingering on my kiss. “Okay. I really want to wear my dress.”
I cracked up, and English arched an eyebrow. “You’re going to want to see this.”
“So, we’ll do it?”
A flicker of reluctance flashed across her face before she nodded. I just hoped we were doing the right thing.