The silence stretched long enough that I could hear Jack shift on the other end.A little rustle of fabric, maybe a chair squeaking.
“Okay… uh… I’m gonna hang up now.”
“No!”I blurted, my voice cracking like a teenager with bad allergies.“Wait.Jack… it’s me.Bradley.Can we… Can we get together and talk?”
* * *
I stood across the street from the building, staring up at the faded brick like it was the ultimate boss in some cursed video game.My stomach twisted in on itself.
This was it, the home of Boys On Film Media & Management.
Somehow I’d imagined it would look… sleazier.Dark windows, sketchy signage, at least a questionable neon light or two.But nope.From the outside, it just looked like any other old building in Chelsea.Unassuming.Boring, even.Like, a dentist’s office or some nonprofit nobody donates to.
Which somehow made this whole thing feel even more surreal.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans for the fifth time and took a shaky breath.I could still turn around and walk right back to the hostel, curl up on my terrible mattress, and figure something else out.
But… I couldn’t.
Desperation has a way of dragging you forward even when your pride’s screaming at you to stay put.I took one step toward the door.
“HEY!”
A slap cracked across my face so fast I’d swear I saw stars.I stumbled back with a yelp, hand flying to my cheek.
Standing in front of me, wearing five-inch heels and a scowl sharp enough to cut glass, was Nessa Martinez.
Her bright red hair was pulled up in a high, messy bun, and her gold hoop earrings swung with violent enthusiasm as she pointed a finger right at my nose.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!”she shouted, loud enough to make a guy walking his dog across the street do a full double take.“You should be in jail!Dealing drugs in my apartment building?!Oh my fucking God, you little shit!”
Her hand came up again, ready for round two.
I flinched.“Wait!Wait!Please!I’m so sorry!”I threw both hands up like I was surrendering in a hostage situation.“An appointment… I have an appointment!With Jack and Liam!I swear!”
Nessa froze mid-swing.Her mouth dropped open, like she was trying to compute the level of stupidity it would take for me to lie about that.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, rubbing her temple like I was giving her a migraine just by existing.
“I’m not!Please don’t hit me again,” I added, flinching out of pure self-preservation.
She narrowed her eyes, giving me a look that could peel paint off the walls.“Unbelievable,” she said finally, then turned on her heel.“Follow me.And try not to do anything stupid between here and the elevator.”
“Yes ma’am,” I mumbled, trailing behind her like an ashamed golden retriever.
Inside, the building was nicer than I expected.Exposed brick walls, industrial lighting, and a smell that was more expensive cologne and coffee than sweaty sex scenes.
The elevator doors dinged open, and we stepped inside.Nessa hit the button like it owed her money.I stood in awkward silence next to her, resisting the urge to apologize again just for breathing.I stepped off the elevator behind Nessa, still rubbing my cheek like maybe I could erase the sting—and the humiliation—before I had to face Jack and Liam.
The reception area was smaller than I expected.Exposed brick walls, low industrial lighting, a potted plant that was definitely fake, and a big front desk that looked like it belonged in the lobby of some hipster start-up.
And sitting behind that desk…
Dimitri.
Jesus, of all people.
I hadn’t seen him since the day I got arrested.Back then, he’d been the security guard for our old apartment building.I still remembered the look on his face as the cops cuffed me and dragged me through the lobby like the world’s dumbest criminal.
