Page 71 of Goode to Be Bad

Lexie

This was stupid…it was beyond stupid.

Maybe one of the most stupid things I’d ever done in my life.

Coming to Tokyo, sure; getting on that stage, absolutely. Not to mention calling Charlie to rescue me in the first place, and ending up at that festival, in the back of a semi-trailer with my biggest celebrity crush, doing wildly inappropriate things with a total stranger. That was definitely a dumb move, not to mention falling hard and fast for my celebrity crush.

And then, running away like this?

Fucking idiotic.

My entire life was a mistake.

I was a mistake.

Here I was, alone, in the middle of Tokyo without a single thing—no purse, no phone, no money, not even the name of the hotel we’d been staying at.

I was fighting a panic attack.

And losing…big time.

After managing to get out of the taxi without paying, I ended up just walking aimlessly, looking in store windows, stopping here and there to rest my feet, sitting on a bench watching the rush of humanity that filled the streets even at this late hour.

Wishing Myles was here to save me, and simultaneously dreading seeing him again. Having to face down another epic blowup.

He’d seen right through the fake.

He’d said the L word.

Fuck.

I got choked up and angry and panicked all over again just thinking about it.

I couldn’t even read the street signs or the names of businesses. Couldn’t understand anything anyone was saying.

How would I find him?

How would he find me?

I could strip naked and stop traffic, get myself arrested and hope they could somehow get him to come bail me out. It was a tempting thought.

All you’re good for, that evil little voice inside said.

I hated that voice.

I had been soaliveon that stage. He’d pinpointed it with scary accuracy. It was as if I’d finally taken my first full breath after a lifetime of never truly opening my lungs all the way. As if I’d been asleep my whole life, and performing had finally woke me up. The greatest rush, the greatest high.

I felt it all in spite of the fear and the nerves.

God, standing at the front of that stage, watching fifty thousand people scream…forme. My name. For my music. My voice. Me.

It had been, legitimately, the greatest moment of my life.

And that evil little voice of doubt had stolen that fragment of joy.

From me. And from Myles.

And he’dstillfound the wherewithal to give me the raw, courageous truth of his feelings for me—knowing exactly how I’d react.