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Antonia Paredes (@toniwiththetunes): you used my toothbrush???

Izzy Dabrowska (@itzzzizzydab): @toniwiththetunes oops

23

Now that they’ve been on the road for a while, the shows feel a fraction less scary. Luca still feels like her heart is going to leap out of her chest beforehand, but now it only takes one song for her to calm down and settle into the familiarity of it all. Their set rolls by like a well-oiled machine. They play their first two songs. Florence gives a greeting in Polish and introduces each of them. (Luca shivers, a little, at the way Florence looks at her, her voice a playful purr as she says, “Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, our drummer Luca Walsh! How are you doing, Luca?”) Two more songs. Izzy and Toni mess about, chasing each other around the stage and holding a staring contest during the guitar-heavy parts. The crowd goes wild during “swallow me,” even though Florence is nowhere near Luca. They end the set with “alexandria,” and then they’re stumbling offstage, a tangle of sweaty limbs as Miray bullies them all into a group hug.

Luca could get used to it. Is getting used to it. She’s never been very good at sticking to routines, but the structure of their tour days is easy to sink into. Here, she doesn’t have to triple-check that she set her alarm or obsess over whether or not the entries in her calendar are the right time and date. She’s like a little boat bobbing on a stream, carried along by the momentum of the band.

Next up: grabbing dinner, heading back to the hostel, showering, changing into pajamas. And then she’s back in the lobby, playing a mindless game on her phone while she waits for Florence. She’s finished three rounds of Subway Surfers by the time she hears footsteps behind her. She cranes her neck to find Florence shuffling toward her, hair still damp from her shower.

“Hey,” Florence says. Instead of sitting down next to Luca on the sofa, she settles into the armchair on the other side of the little end table.

“Hi,” Luca says, dropping her phone into her lap.

Florence slides off her slippers and tucks her socked feet under her thighs. Luca is always fascinated by her transformation—somewhere between getting off the stage and returning to the hostel, she has shed some of her rock star persona. She’s softer in the dim lights of the sleepy lobby, without the red lipstick and the jewelry. For the first time, Luca notices the faint green marks around each of her fingers where her rings usually are. Somehow, Luca always assumed they were real gold.

They sit in silence for a moment. Florence uses her phone camera as a mirror while she pulls her hair into two thick braids. She’s almost done when her phone chimes with a notification and she sits up straighter.

“What is it?” Luca asks.

Florence hastily tightens her hair tie before grabbing the phone from where she’d propped it up on the end table. A strange look crosses her face as she reads whatever is on the screen.

“Florence?”

“It’s my father,” Florence says. “He’s in the news. He—oh, Christ.”

“Is he okay?”

“No,” Florence says bitterly. “He’s an incurable prick. Just . . . here.”

She thrusts the phone at Luca. Her screen is filled with headlines from different news outlets. The top one says, “Too Gay for the Mainstream”: Jeffrey Blake Shocks Fans with Homophobic Comment in Leaked Star Factory Footage.

Luca tactfully does not ask why Florence has Google alerts turned on for her estranged father and says instead, “You don’t have to read these, Florence.”

“I know,” Florence says miserably. “I probably will, though.”

“Yeah,” Luca sighs, handing her back the phone. She figured as much.

“He’s so fucking stupid.” Florence buries her face in her hands. “This isn’t even the first time he’s done something like this. I can’t believe he’s gone this long without getting canceled into oblivion.”

Luca hesitates for a second. “Does he know you’re a lesbian?”

Florence lifts her head again. There’s a stubborn set to her chin as she says, “If he does, it’s because he saw it on the internet, not because I told him. I don’t owe him any information about myself.”

“You don’t,” Luca agrees. “How do you think he would react?”

“I have no idea.” Florence pauses. “I don’t think he’s truly a homophobe. I think he’s just a moron who’s out of touch with the times and has too big of an audience.”

Luca nods. From what she’s seen of Jeffrey Blake, that checks out.

She didn’t even know that he was touring right now. She wonders if there’s an overlap in their schedules, if they’ll ever be playing in the same city at the same time. She’s certain that Florence knows.

“The worst thing is,” Florence says, “that I actually looked up to him for a while.”

“Did you?”