𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

The flight wasn't as brutal as expected, although it bordered red eye territory. It had been the first time the girls were able to afford first class, which created the perfect excuse for celebratory mimosas throughout the duration of their flight from New York City to Los Angeles.

It wasn't their first time in this city, either, as they had a few prior opportunities to perform in some small venues after their EP launched. Still, Billie could feel something different the minute she stepped off the plane. It was as if the girls and her were on a high that never came down, as if they were on the brink of something great.

Still, the mimosas didn't do much to ease her nerves as they stepped into the private SUV taking them to Grand Motel's record label's building. As much as this opportunity was too good to be true, the pressure of expectations had her heart racing against her chest. So much was riding on this tour, and it went beyond girlcrush's stardom.

Billie had given up everything to get here by moving halfway across the country with barely any money in her pocket. Hell, Sloane had dropped out of art school, while Callie picked up a few extra shifts as a waitress to fund their demo costs. Meanwhile, Daria had spent countless hours promoting their music through social media and networking events. They all sacrificed more than they'd ever care to admit out of fear of foolishness or failure.

She knows they won't blow it, but can she say the same for Grand Motel? Billie supposes that question will get answered today once the bands meet officially for the first time. As much as she hopes they'll be on their best behavior, she isn't sure what kind of people she's dealing with.

As the car pulls up to the building, Billie nearly let out an audible gasp of shock. Nothing in the entirety of their career has been this official. Sure, their agent's company was located in a nice building downtown, but they didn't own the entire high rise.  The one in front of them has to be nearly fifty stories high, a black structure complimented with the same color glass. It sticks out amongst the other neutral toned high rises in the area, as if to signal an omen. Billie can't say for certain if it's a good or bad one yet.

"We've arrived, girls," Monica coos, shades perched on her nose as she moves to powder her near flawless face. It's clear the woman has indulged in some plastic surgery, but she carries a sharp, cool beauty that Billie can't really place. It's as if she's looking at a marble statue or a serpent.

"Holy shit," Daria mutters, still in awe of the building as her tattooed hands move to grab her bag. Her eyes fall on the front entrance of the building and the dozens of paparazzi crowding it. "Are they here for—"

Before she can finish, Monica interrupts, "They're here for Grand Motel. More specifically, Ezra, after last night. Which, by the way, none of you are to mention during the meeting." Although the girls loved to shit on their agent's bluntness, Billie prefers the honesty regarding their C list status. It's best not to get their hopes up quite yet about their stardom or Ezra Moore, for that matter.

Sloane lets out a groan loud enough for their agent to hear, feet pushing against the back of the middle row of seats. "Anything else we're not allowed to talk about?"

Before Monica can reply, Callie interjects, "We should give them a chance. I don't want to make enemies on day one."

"It's not going to matter anyways," Billie reminds, "We're not going to see them for the majority of practice, and, once the tour actually starts, we'll have more of an excuse not to see them all. It's not like we're sharing a bus or anything."

"With that attitude, this will be your first and last tour," Monica warns before opening the door from the passenger side. "C'mon, we don't want to be late."

The car is immediately flooded with paparazzi as a few security guards move to open the doors for the girls. Never in her life has Billie experienced this kind of attention. Though it's not necessarily for girlcrush, it still feels like an affirmation that they're taking a step in the right direction.

"Over here!" "Where ya girls headed?" "Excited to open for Grand Motel?" "What's Ezra Moore like?" "Give me a smile."

The words are jumbled, questions slamming together until they're incoherent. Still, all Billie can hear is that name she's been trying to avoid since the minute they signed the contract. It was the name that constantly flooded her mentions, interviews, and even her own personal thoughts.

Ezra Moore is inescapable.

She begins to feel sick with disgust as the paparazzi continue to call out for the male singer, barely recognizing that they were an entire band on their own. She begins to wonder if her whole career will be forever linked to him and Grand Motel.

Still, the girls manage their way through the crowd with ease. It's like they're born for this role. Even Sloane flashes a rare smile in the presence of so many cameras. Needless to say, it's not the mimosas putting them on cloud nine anymore.

"Can you believe that?" Callie breathes, cheeks flushed with excitement. She moves to tuck her brown, curled hair behind her ears while Daria leans against the mirrored wall of the elevator with a grin glued to her pixie-like visage.

"One day it'll always be like that," Billie muses before turning towards the free space in the mirror to fix her features. She runs her fingers through her blonde hair, taming any flyaways. Fingertips then move to readjust her long,leather coat adorning her slender frame. Sloane follows suit by toying with her braids. She, like the rest of the girls, look put together. It's as if they're a unit, though their styles are unique.

"Of course, it will be," Monica assures while she taps away at her phone. The affirmation nearly puts all of Billie's worries at ease.

The giddy ride up the elevator to nearly the top floor feels like seconds until the doors open. Suddenly, the air changes between everyone. It's as if the weight of this moment is reaching its climax.

As the double doors to the room open, Billie can feel herself hold her breath in anticipation.

This is it. Everything is riding on this.