Page 17 of Duty Unbound

Not anger. Not resentment. But genuine fear.

Chapter 6

Mel

I kicked off my heels the second I made it through the door of my suite, wincing at the relief that washed over me. My toes practically sang with gratitude. These stupid heels were killing me, but Nova insisted.

“You’re the manager,” she’d told me a thousand times. “You have to look like you’re in charge.”

I rubbed my aching feet as I changed into soft cotton shorts and an oversized T-shirt. The logic made sense—Nova got to be the fun, creative one while I was the serious one who kept everything running smoothly. It had been our dynamic since childhood, only now with bigger stakes and fancier clothes.

But God, I missed jeans and sweaters. Something comfortable. Something that felt like me.

My phone vibrated on the dresser for what felt like the hundredth time. I picked it up, scrolling through Nova’s stream-of-consciousness texts.

Mel what if the venue in Chicago isn’t big enough

Do u think the lighting will be ok

I heard the acoustics suck there

What if nobody shows up

What if EVERYBODY shows up and it’s a mob scene

WHAT IF my voice cracks during the high note in Midnight Dreams

I need new in-ear monitors

I should change the setlist

I should fire the stylist

Wait no I like her

But what if the outfits are wrong

What if I fall onstage

I typed out a quick response:

Everything is going to be fine. We have everything under control. Don’t worry.

This was Nova’s pattern before every big event—a constant barrage of texts voicing every anxiety that crossed her mind. If I didn’t respond every five or ten messages, she’d work herself into a state, convinced everything was falling apart.

It meant I was perpetually tethered to my phone, making an already impossible job that much harder.

My phone buzzed again immediately.

But what if it’s NOT fine?????

I sighed and set the phone down, massaging my temples. I had bigger problems to solve right now than Nova’s pre-tour anxiety spiral. Like figuring out what the hell we were going to do now that Ethan Cross had decided he was too good to provide security for us.

That wasn’t fair, and I knew it. Nova had been particularly diva-like today. Even I had wanted to strangle her a few times, and I was used to her antics. But there was something about the way Ethan had dismissed me along with her that stung. Like he’d looked at us both and decided we weren’t worth his time.

“Inappropriate footwear,” I muttered, mimicking his deep voice. “Only half paying attention.”

Did he think I enjoyed being constantly glued to my phone? Did he think I had a choice?