“It will be okay.” Barry’s face didn’t match his words, but mirrored my own feelings.
Alicia rubbed my back. “It will work out.”
I pulled at my sweaty hair, as if it might help me grasp the words to convey my inner turmoil.
“We don’t know anything so let’s not panic.”
“We don’t know anything?” I demanded. “I had an argument with Max, then Barry almost died?—”
“But I didn’t,” Barry insisted. “I have fallen off stages before. I broke my leg that one time with Playground.”
I rolled my eyes. “Barry, that’s not what this was.”
“We survived, though. It will be okay,” Clarice assured.
“Yes, but it’s not. Because Betty isn’t here. She just left.” I fought the urge to collapse into a puddle of tears before these people.
Clarice approached, sympathetic. “Oh, darling. It’s okay. You will find her and this will work out. Ithasto. I believe it will.”
That made one of us. Clarice was so young and glass-half-full that I wanted to scream at her, but I fought the impulse. She meant well.
“She’s gone. She’s not responded to my texts. Everything is fucked and… I’m the common denominator.”
My lip quivered and I spun away, wanting to crawl into a corner.
Alicia gripped my arm and pulled me around, grabbing my chin. “Marit Jensson, this doesn’t end here. Don’t go there, damn it! Break that cycle!”
“You don’t understand?—”
“I fucking do, bitch. I have seen the shit in this business, too. I fought tooth and nail to get here and you’re not about to crack and take us all out, Marit.”
“Don’t you see that I already have?”
“You haven’t. You’ve finally chosen yourself. You stood up to Max, and he had a fuckingtemper tantrum?—”
“That could have been disastrous!”
“I used to play metal shows. I’ve seen a wall of death, Mary!” Barry insisted.
“Did someone say wall of death?” A Giftehode member called. “Wacken?”
“Nei!” I groaned, not needing more metal-headed chaos.
“The point is, he’s okay. Mary, Betty will ring you soon. I am sure they are just following a protocol or something.”
“They? A protocol?”
“The royals, bitch! They have lists and rules and all this other faff,” Alicia gestured.
“If they do, it’s because they never want me to see her again.”
“Is Miss Jensson here?” A loud voice rang over the chatter.
I turned to the door. There stood a man in a suit.
“See, it’s the secret service,” Clarice snickered.
He looked like the fuzz. What if they were about to arrest me? Was kissing a royal an offense? Or what if Max told people that I had caused the catastrophe? I wouldn’t put it past him.
