He holds the coat open. I slide my right arm in, feeling Ethan’s breath on my neck. Ever since he came over last week after we hadn’t seen each other for eight days, there’s been this electricity between us. I mean, there’s always been electricity between us. But now it’s supercharged.

I slide my left arm in. Ethan hugs me from behind.

“How are you so beautiful?” he says.

Melting. In. The foyer.

We go out to the white stretch limo. No paparazzi are around. I guess they’re all waiting for us at the red carpet. The chauffeur gets out and comes around to our side. He holds the door open for us.

“Thank you,” I say. A chauffeur holding a door open for me is so fancy I’m almost embarrassed. Ethan climbs in. The door closes behind him.

I can’t believe how much room there is back here. There are condos in my building smaller than the back of this limo. The space is tricked out with a mini fridge, two video screens, a tray of champagne glasses with an ice bucket, tons of snacks, and throw pillows. We could live here for days.

The partition between us and the chauffeur is up. We could do anything back here. He would never know.

“This joint has a sick sound system,” Ethan says. He turns on Z100. Then he reaches for two champagne glasses. “May I interest you in an adult beverage, mademoiselle?”

“They have adult beverages?”

“Soda is very adult. Some refer to it as bubbly.”

“Well then please pour me some bubbly, sir.”

“Right away.” Ethan fills our glasses with Coke. “Here’s to a magnificent night.”

“Cheers.” We clink glasses. I’ve never felt so grownup.

“Any news on the new album?” I ask.

“We talk about me too much,” Ethan says. “How are you doing with all this?”

“All this what?”

“The rock star girlfriend thing. Is it working for you?”

“Oh yeah.” I slide closer to Ethan. “It’s working.”

“You’re not overwhelmed?”

“The paparazzi can be a little scary. But then there are nights like this with glitzy swag bags and major celeb sightings. So it all balances out.”

“How’s it going at school?”

“I miss you. So much.”

“Sorry I’m not there for you more.”

“It’s okay. Being the world’s biggest rock star is more important. But Miles and Reyna keep asking about you.”

“I owe Miles a call.”

“He really misses you. He doesn’t like to show it, but he does.”

“Have I turned into a horrible friend?”

“It’s nothing a call won’t fix.”

“Okay, I’ll call him. What else is going on with you?”

My idea for that cooking video series has been taking shape. I keep thinking about which recipes and techniques I want to share in the first few segments. But I’m not ready to tell Ethan about my idea yet. I don’t want to share it with him until I have a solid plan.

“You know,” I say. “Yoga. Cooking. College apps.” It’s weird that Ethan’s not applying to colleges with me. I assumed we’d be navigating the whole process together. He’s not even going to college.

“How’s Gram?” he asks.

“Back to her old routine. Killing it at bingo. Baking up a storm. Having her back home is such a relief.”

“Is she one hundred percent?”

“Totally. Her doctor said she kicked serious angioplasty butt.”

“Good. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

“Now I’m just worrying about you.”

“Why?”

“You have a million things to deal with. I don’t know how you’re doing it all. Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Not when adrenaline and fear take over. They’re a powerful upper combo.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Ethan holds my hand between his. I love the way our hands fit together. Like he will always protect me.

“Sometimes I worry that it could all disappear,” Ethan says. “You know how this business is. An artist is hot one day and forgotten the next.”

“That could never happen to you.”

“It could happen to anyone.”

“Not you. Your fans love you for a reason. Not just because of how sexy you are or how strongly your music resonates with them or how your voice makes them melt. You’re one of the best musicians ever. People will still be talking about you decades from now. Trust me. You’ve already made history and you’re only eighteen. Imagine what you’ll have accomplished by the time you’re twenty-five.”

Ethan brushes his hand against my cheek. He looks at me tenderly.

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for my dreams to come true,” he says. “But it means so much more sharing everything with you. You’re my angel, Sterling.”

Ethan kisses me. It feels so good. The supercharged electricity between us is more intense than ever. I lean back against the soft leather seat. Ethan puts a throw pillow under my head. He kisses me and kisses me like he can’t get enough.

This is what true love feels like.

This is what ultimate happiness feels like.

This is what it’s like to be with the boy every girl wants.

23

[8,716,525 FOLLOWERS]


Watching Ethan rehearse is hot.

This week has been amazing. First the benefit packed with glitterati. Now I get to watch Ethan rehearse at the theater they rented in New York. All his backup dancers live here. So does his choreographer, stylist, and everyone else involved in developing a tour they promise will blow the roof off every single venue.

The crew is so nice. They keep coming over to where I’m sitting in the third row to say hi. They ask if I want a drink (I’m good). They ask if I want a snack (no, thanks). They ask what I think of the rehearsal (freaking amazing). They were rehearsing at a studio before this. But the tour is starting in two weeks. Everyone needs to see how it’s coming together onstage.

Ethan is a natural. That’s the only way to describe it. The way he’s so comfortable with the choreo. The way he makes each song come alive. The way he owns the stage. He was born to do this. People are saying he’s the next Michael Jackson. Ethan moves to the rhythm a lot like Michael did. It’s like every cell of his body absorbs the music in such a soulful way that watching him dance is a transcendental experience.

“Night on Fire” involves pyrotechnics. The set is sensational. Fire jets burst when the lights are snapped off as the first chorus starts. Right when the flames burst, Ethan jumps from higher to lower risers on the stage. All these different levels are set up. They look like boxes glowing yellow, orange, and red. Ethan moves between them so smoothly you hardly even notice they’re not connected. I’d be tripping over myself on the first jump.

After practicing “Night on Fire” four times, the director shouts for everyone to take a break. I head backstage to meet up with Ethan. I can’t wait to tell him how hot he looked. Hotter than fire.

On my way to Ethan’s dressing room, I hear Gage talking in a room I’m about to pass. Something about the tone of his voice makes me stop before the doorway and listen.

“We all started out on the same level,” Gage is saying. “Now we’re just called ‘Ethan Cross’? That’s bullshit. At least ‘Ethan Cross and The Invincibles’ acknowledged our existence. How did we go from practicing in Ethan’s garage to Ethan being the only one people know?”

“They know us.” Drew.

“No they don’t.” Stefan.

“The hardcore fans do.” Drew.

“But it shouldn’t be like that.” Gage. “Look at Led Zeppelin. People don’t only know Robert Plant. Jimmy Page is just as famous. They even know who John Bonham was.”

“Hells yeah.” Stefan.

“Who was on keys in Led Zeppelin?” Drew.

“John Paul Jones.” Gage.

“I thought he played bass.”

“He did. He’s a multi-instrumentalist. He’s also a composer and songwriter. Sound familiar?”

You can hear the resentment in Gage’s voice. He’s so jealous of Ethan. They probably all are. But Drew and Stefan are choosing to be mostly positive. I guess Gage is never going to be happy about Ethan’s success. Which is a shame. Success for Ethan means success for the entire band. Why can’t Gage see that?

“Are you comparing yourself to a member of one of the best bands ever?”

“I’m saying that I write songs, too. Our sound could seriously evolve if Ethan would respect that. I’m so tired of him calling the shots. We’re all partners in this band. We should all have equal say.”

I remember that band practice back in May when Gage asked Ethan about adding “Aluminum Rain” to the set list. Does he remember how Drew and Stefan agreed with Ethan? How they said Gage’s music isn’t as strong as Ethan’s?

Gage continues his rant. “Why does Ethan get all the attention? Why is he the only famous one here? Why him and not me?”

“You’re not Neil Young,” Drew says. “Get over it.”

“You don’t think I could be as successful as Ethan? Because I could. If I got the chance, I could.”

“This is your chance. All of this. Right now. Which you would realize if you weren’t so cynical.”

“You don’t think my songs are as good as Ethan’s. Isn’t that what you said? My music’s not as strong as Ethan’s and we should stick with what works?”

“Take it easy, man.”

“Why are you always telling me to take it easy? Don’t you have ambition? Am I the only one of us who wants more?”

“Of course we want more. But we appreciate what we have.”

“Whatever. You don’t get it.” Gage’s voice is getting louder, like he’s walking toward the door. I skittle around the corner to take the other way to Ethan’s dressing room. Ethan’s not there. I sit on the floor outside to wait. While I’m waiting, I notice a cardboard sign on the wall across the hall.