chapter twenty-six

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But what if I, what if I trip?
What if I, what if I fall?
Then am I the monster?

Monster - Shawn Mendes, Justin Bieber

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Warning: Slightly more swearing and mature themes ahead

"Goodnight, New York!" I blew two kisses to the camera. "Goodnight, everyone!"

The audience went up in a roar of applause, thundering as the studio lights dimmed slowly. I stood, front and center on the stage, waving at indistinct faces. Dozens of voices shouted my name. Phones and cameras pointed at me, trying to snag pictures before the lights totally disappeared and the show was officially over.

I faked a smile and posed. Mikka would be proud of me, using my last few seconds on Saturday Night Live to appease the audience. Even I knew I would be trending on Twitter by tomorrow morning.

And it was exactly what I wanted. The more I appeared fine on the outside, the more I squeezed out of my SNL performance, the less scrutiny I would receive about what's going on under the surface. It pained me, but I forced myself to remain on stage and play the crowd as if I had been born to do so.

Only when the lights went completely dark did I drop the smile. I trudged off stage, ignoring the rest of the SNL cast who congratulated me. Twenty grumbling, grueling seconds later, I walked into the green room designated for my team.

"From your face, you would never know you just put on the best SNL show of the season." Mikka patted my shoulder. "Your performance of "Scars" was breathtaking, my dear."

Breathtaking indeed. Another panic attack like the one I had suffered with Namjoon in Denver had threatened to overcome me only moments before the cameras pivoted to me.

Leo noticed my sour mood and shuffled over to me. He wasn't cancer-free yet, but the doctors declared his pancreas stable enough to travel to New York for a week.

"I would tell you to cheer up and smile, but I think you would bite my head off for it," Leo said, nudging me.

I reached for the decanter of whiskey on the sidebar. "You would be correct."

"For what it's worth, you did well tonight."

"Thanks." I poured a glass of whiskey, filling it nearly to the brim.

Disregarding Leo's worried expression - as well as the rest of the staff's side-eye glances - I swallowed half of the glass' contents in two drinks. No one bothered to hide their looks, or their whispers.

"She had a glass before she went on stage tonight."

"And another drink in the car ride over, too."

"I've heard she's at the hotel bar every night."

"Shame. She has so much potential to be drinking so much so early."

Wincing, I finished the whiskey.

"Let's go out tonight," I said, setting the glass down with a bit too much force. The sidebar rattled, its selection of alcohols sloshing in their bottles. 

Leo's eyebrows rose. "Out? Like to a bar?"

"Bar, club, doesn't matter to me," I said. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him down to my level. "Just somewhere where there are crowds. And dancing. We should be celebrating, right? Celebrating the tour, celebrating tonight's show, celebrating you being here with me."

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