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“You okay?” Ty’s warm voice fills my ear, his hand gripping mine fully now that I’ve started tapping my fingers nervously. “It’s gonna be okay, Jacie. You guys are so goddamn talented, shit. I couldn’t believe how good—”

“Oh my god. Oh my god! ”

Jodie shrieks so high it startles everyone—even Asher, who nearly spills his champagne with a muttered curse. We all snap our gazes to the screen, trying to figure out where the hell to look. But before we can ask, Jodie highlights a line in an incoming email, pointing out the magical words.

Projection: Number one.

They expect us to debut at fucking number one next week.

A wave of chaotic yelling explodes around us. Shouts, hugs, people jumping up from where they were sitting—someone knocks over a drink—Missy’s crying and laughing, jumping on the couch with Ava and Asher.

But I fucking freeze. Just watching Ty standing in front of me while my friends wrap their arms around me and scream in my ears.

His eyes are huge and shiny, lips parted like he’s forgotten how to breathe. The pride on his face nearly undoes me.

“Holy shit, Jacie. You did it.”

I can’t help it. Even with everything happening around us, I can only look at him, like he’s the only thing in the room worth seeing while my world turns upside down.

“We can finally fucking watch it now, right?” Ava calls out, pointing with her empty flute to Jodies laptop. “You said they dropped the video, too. Right, Jodie? We have seen parts of it, but not the final edit.”

“Hit play, let’s see it,” Missy chimes in before bending over to grab the bottle of champagne off the table to refill the now empty glasses.

Ty tugs me down again as we all gather back to our places, sitting beside me this time, before Jodie starts the video with an excited “I’m so proud of you guys. Now let’s watch you become fucking stars!”

Watching the video, I can’t help stealing sideways glances at my man, a giddy fucking grin playing around my lips as he watches our very first music video, eyes bright. I’ve seen most of the footage—hell, I’ve lived it—so I’d rather watch his reaction.

We didn’t need to do much, they just followed us around during the tour and stitched it all together into a behind-the-scenes, performance-style clip.

Sure, they made us perform on top of the bus at one point for some “big visual payoff” thing, but most of it is just real moments.

Us laughing in dressing rooms. Sneaking snacks backstage, my face stuffed with french fries.

Missy jumping on Asher’s back in the middle of soundcheck.

Group hugs. Ava dancing like a maniac in the rain, pink hair plastered to her face as Missy joins her, laughing and hugging before they tackle me to the ground.

Asher filming us from inside the bus, phone shaking because he was laughing too hard.

It’s... wholesome . Way more wholesome than we deserve. But it’s us.

My eyes flicker back to the screen when Ty’s smile drops, clenching his jaw.

“Wait, pause it, rewind. What was that?” I ask, when I only catch a glimpse of one of our shows.

Tyler sighs as he lets go of my pinky before his big hand engulfs my knee. “It was nothing, Jacie. It’s fine. Just keep playing, Jodie.”

“No. What did I miss?” I eye our manager, who cringes, which makes me distrust this even more. “Pause the damn video!”

She apologies and rewinds the clip. “I was hoping they wouldn’t try to do that.”

“Who tried to do what exactly? What am I missing?” I stare at the screen as Tyler grips my knee tighter, snagging my attention his way. His mouth is pulled in a crooked, one-dimpled smile—one I usually adore—but right now, his eyes don’t have their usual softness in them.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. We’re fine. I mean, it’s not like it’s real or anything. It’s just… shit.” He huffs and rubs his face in frustration.

“I’m so sorry,” Jodie says. “They basically just threw your private life in public.”

“My private life?” I’m getting a fucking whiplash as I snap my head back to her.

“What do you mean with my private life ? Do you mean our private life?” I gesture to Ty and me, frowning.

“We’re not hiding. We never tried to. We know it would hurt his career— my career—so we’re not flaunting it or anything…

But… I really don’t care if people know about him.

Shit, he’s everything to me, they should know.

” I glance at Ty again, and there’s so much fucking adoration in his gaze after my little statement, I just know he’s on the same page.

Jodie's gaze is apologetic. “I know you don’t, Jace. And I know Tyler doesn’t either if it comes to it, but that’s not exactly what I meant…”

My eyes widen as it clicks.

“Mick.” I swear I fucking growl his motherfucking name. “What the fuck did that pitiful excuse for a human being do this time?”

“I really am sorry, Jace. I really didn’t know about it, or otherwise I would’ve stopped it.”

My stomach plummets as she taps on play.

Because fuck yes, there it is. Mick fucking Heart, front and center in our music video.

Holding me against his body as we sing his stupid song during the encore.

And then the camera cuts to a closeup—my head falling onto his shoulder in motherfucking slow motion.

Oh, hell no.

The footage is from the first night—I recognize it, because he was way bolder that night than the shows from last week. And I let him, I fucking let him because I didn’t know what I was in for. Because I didn’t know yet how persistent he was going to be.

And fuck me if it doesn’t look like he’s my damn lover.

Like this song about aching is about him.

It’s not. It never was. It’s about the wonderful, amazing man right next to me, who currently looks at me with so much pity and hurt—and it kills me.

Because he shouldn’t have to be the one comforting me right now.

Fuck. With they thew your private life in public, she didn’t mean my relationship with Tyler. She meant a different relationship. With one of the most influential, famous rock stars of our generation.

A relationship that doesn’t even exist.

The backlash of this shit is going to suck so fucking hard.

I try to swallow down the lump rising in my throat, but it’s useless. The euphoria from minutes ago fucking gone.

“I’m so sorry,” I croak, voice barely holding steady as I turn to Ty.

“It’s okay,” he says again, but I shake my head, hating that defeated look on his face.

“It’s not .” I cup his face, dying to smooth out the worry lines. “I didn’t—the label said this duet was only for the tour. I had no idea they were going to use it in the video.” I glance helplessly at Jodie. “I mean... Can they do this? Are they even allowed ?”

She shakes her head before nodding it as well. “No—I mean yes. You signed off on it. It’s in the stipulations. You agreed they could use any footage from the tour. And, you know…” Her voice trails off, but we all know what it means.

Since it happened on tour , and we signed the waiver, they’re free to use whatever the fuck they want.

I stumble to my feet, shaking my head. “I need to call my dad,” I mutter, raking my free hand through my mess of a hair as I take my phone out of my pocket and flinch when I see he already tried to call me three times. “Shit,” I breathe, then press Call Back with trembling fingers.

Ty follows me up and puts a steadying hand on my back as I put it on speaker, hoping for the first time in forever that the bastard actually picks up.

Sure, we’ve been more in contact since last winter, when he helped me fix the mess with my former band member.

Somehow—even after their fucking guitarist stabbed me “by accident” because he’s a raging homophobe—they still thought it was justified to sue me for the rights to my music.

Thank fuck Daddy Dearest is amazing at what he does. And for once, he actually did something useful for his son instead of pretending I didn’t exist. All it took was a lawsuit for the lawyer to notice his own flesh and blood and keep in touch. You can’t beat the damn irony there.

When he picks up with a “Jace?” I close my eyes, still bracing for the usual: a reprimand, a bored sigh, maybe a clipped I’m busy, Jace. Go ask Julita for whatever it is you want. The fucking soundtrack of my childhood.

But again, the rejection doesn’t come, just like the last six months. It’s still weird.

When I don’t answer right away, he jumps in again. “Jace? Are you okay? Did you receive the letter?”

Is that… actual concern in his voice? We definitely talk more, but yes, I rarely call him unless there’s something I need to know about contracts and shit.

“Did you see the video?” I finally say as a greeting, skipping straight to it. “Can they do that without our consent? Is that why you called?” He still handles some legal stuff for us from the Netherlands, even though he and Jodie also liaise with a local legal rep here in the States.

“Your first music video, you mean? I saw an email about it but haven’t opened it yet. Did they breach a clause in your agreement? Which section?”

Ah, there he is, switching to pro-mode in an instant.

I sigh, rubbing my head. “No. I don’t think so. It doesn’t look like they breached anything. They just... insinuated that I’m in a relationship with Mick, and—” I cut myself off, frown, wait… “What did you mean, did I get the letter?”

There’s a beat of silence as I turn to my rock, my Tyler, staring at his chest, his hand still on my back. And I don’t know if the dread slithering into my gut is about the video… or what’s coming next.

“I tried to call you today,” he says, voice even now. “Because, as your lawyer, I was contacted by USCIS. They couldn’t reach you by letter.”

My gaze snaps up to meet Ty’s.

“They’re revoking your visa.”