The concert tickets lay on the dresser, neon-bright against the wood. Front row. VIP. Arozi Live at the Vega. Mika snatched them up, waving them in Madison's face with a squeal.
"We're actually doing this," Mika said, shoving a denim jacket into her bag before zipping up the bag. "Hundred of miles of shitty highway, a couple night in a hotel bed that's definitely seen some crimes, and boom—best night of our lives."
Madison's phone buzzed again. Fourth time in ten minutes. She flipped it face-down without looking.
"Earth to Mads." Mika snapped her fingers. "You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"The thing where you mentally calculate how many ramen packs we could've bought with the gas money." Mika plopped onto the bed beside her, smelling like vanilla body spray. "Newsflash: We're broke either way. We got these tickets for free. At least this way we get to see Arozi's ass in person."
Madison snorted, but her fingers tapped the phone's blank screen. Another buzz.
Mika narrowed her eyes. "Who's blowing up your phone? Don't tell me you've got a secret boo—"
Madison pocketed the phone. "No." Too quick.
"Liar." Mika poked her ribs. "Is it that guy from your bio lab? The one who tripped on air just to talk to you. What was his name again?"
"Let's get going or we might miss the show," Madison muttered, standing abruptly.
Mika groaned but hoisted her bag. "Fine, deflect. But I will crack you open like a glowstick after this concert." Mika said, crowding into Madison's space, her grin all teeth. She hooked an arm through Madison's, steering them toward the door. "And hey—tuition's due in three weeks. We'll figure it out."
Madison's stomach twisted. Would we?
Mika kept talking, voice bright as a knife. "Remember when we were fifteen? Swore we'd marry Arozi and live in a castle made of guitar picks?"
"That was you," Madison said. "I just said he had a decent voice."
"Blasphemy." Mika gasped, then dropped to a whisper. "Okay, but real talk—you have heard the rumors, right? About his after-parties?" She waggled her eyebrows. "Front row seats, Mads. We've got a shot."
Madison stared at her. "You'd actually…?"
"Psh. No." Mika grinned. "Well. Maybe if he asked really nicely." She flicked Madison's nose. "Relax. I just wanna see if he's got that same smokey eye in person."
Madison forced a laugh. Her phone buzzed again—a grenade in her pocket.
Mika didn't notice. She was already halfway down the hall, singing off-key into a hairbrush mic.
Madison exhaled then she followed Mika down the stairs, the phone's vibrations humming against her thigh like a warning.
...
The highway stretched ahead, a black tongue licking through hills. Mika kept glancing over, her knee bouncing to the bassline shaking the car.
Buzz. Buzz.
Madison's phone lit up between them like a live wire.
"He's clearly obsessed," Mika said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. The music swelled—Arozi snarling about "lips like loaded guns." The rearview mirror trembled. "Just text your mystery man back already. I promise I won't peek." She shot Madison a grin. "Unless it's juicy."
Madison's grip on the phone turned bone-white. "It's nothing."
"Uh-huh." Mika flicked the turn signal. The gas station loomed—a UFO of fluorescents in the dark. "Snack run. I'm starving." She killed the engine and twisted toward Madison, lashes fluttering. "Well? How do I look?"
Madison didn't hesitate. "Same as always. Gorgeous."
Mika's smile went sly. "Great. Gonna flirt us a discount." She hopped out, then leaned back in, dangling the keys. "Don't worry. I won't do anything that'd get us arrested."
Madison's lips pressed flat. "Sure. I'm going to make a quick stop for the bathroom."
"Okey-dokey. Meet you inside." Mika winked and vanished toward the neon glow.
The bathroom door fought her, hinges shrieking. Inside, the air stank of bleach and piss. Graffiti clawed at the stall: TELL SARAH YOU LOVE HER OR I WILL. Madison locked herself in, back against the door, and finally looked.
>> 32 unread messages.
The newest:
>> Do you still want the money or not.
Her thumbs hovered. A drop of sweat slithered down her spine.
Maddie: I did… but I didn't think someone would end up in the hospital.
The reply came fast as a gunshot:
>> You'll be happy to know our friend is going to make a full recovery soon.
A shaky breath escaped her. Thank God.
Then—
>> [Attachment: 1 Image]
The photo loaded in jagged strips: her dorm. Her bed. Two black duffels spilling cash. Zoomed in—her pillow. A single ace of spades, crisp as a threat.
>> Enough to pay yours and your friend's tuition. Already delivered.
Madison's pulse roared. Holy shit.
Another buzz:
>> But you could get more. One last mission. No more hiding. No more being the side character in your own life, and enough money to burn your guilt to ash.
Her thumb hovered. Temptation licked up her throat.
Maddie: What now?
>> One trial. Two steps.
The stall door rattled. Madison nearly dropped the phone.
"You giving birth in there or something?" Mika's voice, edged with laughter. A kick to the door. "Cashier gave me free Cheetos. Also—" A pause. "He asked if your hair was really that color. Super into you."
Madison didn't answer. The screen stayed dark.
Knuckles rapped again. "Helloooo?"
"Yeah—yeah. Coming." She flushed the toilet for show, shoved the phone into her pocket. The ace of spades burned behind her eyelids.
The road hummed beneath them, an endless black river. Madison's phone stayed dark in her lap, but the weight of it pressed into her thighs like a bruise.
Mika's fingers tapped the steering wheel once, twice—then the music dimmed.
"Hey." Her voice was softer now, the edges worn down. "You okay? You've been… quiet."
Madison clenched her jaw. "I'm fine."
"Come on, Mads." Mika's glance cut sideways, sharp as a blade. "You've been off for days. What's going on?"
The trees outside blurred into a smear of shadows. Madison didn't answer.
Mika exhaled through her nose. "Did your mom's medical bills get worse or something?" The words came out too fast, like she'd been holding them in for miles. "I don't know how yet, but I'll sell a kidney if I have to. She's like a mother to me too, you know that."
Madison's reflection stared back at her from the window—pale, fractured. "I know. Mom's fine. I'm fine."
A beat. The air between them thickened, sticky with everything unsaid.
Mika's hand darted out, fingers brushing Madison's wrist. Warm. Familiar. Too much.
"You know," Mika said, voice low under the rumble of tires, "if it wasn't for you, I'd probably still be crying over Jason's trash ass." A half-laugh, bitter as burnt coffee. "The second I told you about those nudes he sent to some random girl, it was like… I could breathe again. Because you get it. You always do." Her thumb traced a slow circle over Madison's pulse point. "So whatever this is? You can tell me. Anything."
Madison's throat closed.
I can't.
The confession bubbled up like acid: I was the random girl.
She imagined it—Mika's face collapsing. The way her hand would yank back like she'd been scalded. How could you?
The fear was worse than the guilt.
Madison swallowed hard. "I know."
Mika's grip tightened—just for a second—before she let go. The music surged back, some bright pop anthem that used to make them scream the lyrics with the windows down.
Madison closed her eyes. The melody clawed at her, sharp as Mika's laugh used to be.
.
.
.
The hotel room smelled like old cigarettes and disinfectant. Mika kicked the door shut behind them, tossing her bag onto the sagging bed. She checked her phone and gasped.
"Ooohhh—hour and forty-five minutes until we witness greatness. Live in the flesh." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I'm gonna shower. Gotta be pristine for my future husband."
Madison snagged her towel first. "I'm going first. You always take forever."
Mika pouted. "That's because I'm always thinking about you in there."
A beat. Madison froze.
Mika's grin faltered. "Sorry. Stupid joke." She flopped onto the bed, arms spread like a starfish. "Hurry up, then. I refuse to meet Arozi with greasy hair."
Madison locked the bathroom door behind her. The mirror showed a girl she barely recognized—pale, pupils too wide. The shower hissed to life, scalding, but she barely felt it.
After her shower, Mika went in next.
Buzz.
Madison waited until the water roared steady before checking her phone.
>> I've left a gift in the closet for you. Wear it to the concert.
Her stomach dropped. She knew how this worked—the handler's gifts always arrived like curses, tailored to moments they shouldn't know about. Like they'd been watching.
The closet held nothing but a single dress: black, backless, barely more than straps.
Maddie: This isn't like what you asked me to do with Jason, right?
The reply came fast.
>> Of course not. That was just a test. This is step one. Wear it, and you're a step away from the world in your palm.
Madison's fingers trembled.
Maddie: Sure.
When Mika emerged, steam curling off her skin, Madison was already painting on eyeliner with surgical precision.
"Hurry up," Madison muttered. "Forty minutes."
Mika rolled her eyes. "I know, I know—don't rush art." She fluffed her hair in the mirror. "You know I might meet my future husband tonight, right? I need to look—"
"Whatever. You said the same about Jason."
"Ouch. Low blow." Mika flicked a sock at her. "And don't whatever me—you've been contouring for twenty minutes." She spun her finger. "Up. Let me see the damage."
Madison stood. The dress clung to every curve, the neckline dipping just shy of indecent.
Mika whistled. "God-freaking-damn. Leave some guys for the rest of us, will you?"
Madison turned away. "Don't really plan on taking any."
Mika's hand cracked playfully against her ass. "Mika!" Madison's blush burned to her collarbones.
Mika just grinned, toweling her hair. "You're welcome. Now help me pick which lipstick says 'I'm fun but could ruin your life.'"
Madison stared at her reflection.
...
The Vega pulsed like an open wound—strobe lights slicing through smoke, the bassline thudding against Madison's ribs. Front row. Close enough to see the sweat glittering on Arozi's collarbones.
Mika screamed into her ear, fingers tangled in Madison's sleeve. "I! LOVE! YOU!" Her voice was already shredded, her smile so wide it hurt to look at.
And for one stupid, perfect second—Madison forgot.
She laughed, really laughed, letting Mika drag her into a stumbling half-hug. The music swallowed them whole.
Arozi prowled the stage, all leather and smirk. When his gaze snagged on theirs during the bridge, he winked.
Mika made a sound like a teakettle. "OHMYGOD HE WINKED AT ME!" She shook Madison hard enough to rattle teeth. "MADS. MADS. THAT'S A PROMISE."
Madison grinned. "Guess you're wife material after all."
Mika was filming now, her screen a shaky square of light, capturing Arozi as he crouched at the edge of the stage. Close enough to touch. His sweat hit the crowd like rain.
Madison didn't watch him. She watched Mika—the way the gold light caught her eyelashes, how her lips shaped every lyric like she'd written them herself.
She's happy.
It was enough. It had to be.
Then—
Buzz. Buzz.
Her phone burned against her thigh. She ignored it.
Arozi finished the song with a snarl, the crowd erupting. Mika whirled, eyes wet. "Best. Night. Ever," she gasped, forehead pressed to Madison's.
Madison's throat closed.
A hand clamped her shoulder—a mountain in a black security shirt, his breath hot on her ear. "After-party. Arozi's asking for you."
Mika didn't notice, too busy zooming in on Arozi's hands as he tuned his guitar.
Madison checked her phone.
>> Go with him.
Her vision tunneled. She nodded at the guard. "Yeah. I'm in."
She grabbed Mika's wrist. "Meet you outside."
"Huh? Oh—yeah, go pee!" Mika didn't even look over, already shrieking as Arozi leapt off the stage. "OHMYGOD HE'S TOUCHING PEOPLE—"
The guard steered Madison backward, his grip iron. The crowd swallowed them.
One last glimpse: Mika, glowing under the lights, her hands stretched toward the stage like she could catch the music itself.
Then the darkness took her.
The bodyguard didn't speak. Just led her down a narrow hallway, the bass from the arena vibrating through the walls like a second heartbeat. At the last door, he knocked once—a code—then shoved her inside.
The backstage room smelled like weed and expensive cologne. Madison's heels sank into the plush carpet as the bodyguard shut the door behind her, leaving her alone with the low hum of the afterparty down the hall.
Two lines of coke glistened on the glass coffee table beside a half-empty bottle of tequila. Arozi's pre-show ritual, probably. She looked away, pulling out her phone.
Maddie: You promised it wouldn't be like Jason.
The reply came before she could blink.
>> It's not… unless you want it to be.
Her throat tightened.
Maddie: Then what am I supposed to do?
>> Check the drawer on your left.
The lacquered nightstand gleamed under the dim lights. She tugged the drawer open.
A pistol. Silencer already attached.
Madison stumbled back, phone clattering to the carpet. She snatched it up, fingers shaking.
Maddie: What the hell am I supposed to do with this?!
>> What do you think? Your outfit had a glove for a reason.
Her outfit did have a glove. She had assumed it was a part of the fashion.
The door swung open.
Arozi strode in, still glistening with stage sweat, his shirt unbuttoned to the sternum. He stopped when he saw her, eyes dragging from her legs to the dip of her hips.
"You're stunning, sweetheart," he said, kicking the door shut. "What's your name?"
"Madison." Her voice barely carried.
"Madison." He rolled the name like a hit of nicotine. "What a wonderful name." He stepped closer, thumb brushing her hip. "Wanna have some fun, Madison?"
Her phone buzzed against her thigh.
She swallowed. "Sure. Let me just—"
"Take your time." He smirked, turning to snort one of the lines off the table with a sharp inhale. "Damn, that's good."
Madison checked the message.
>> [Attachment: 1 Video]
>> In case you need motivation.
The video loaded in jagged pixels: Her own hand, slipping a vial into a stranger's coffee at the diner. The man choking. Collapsing. The screams.
Maddie: WHAT IS THIS?!
>> Cops will love knowing how coconut milk (his fatal allergy) got in his cup. This'll help them ID his killer.
Her lungs turned to stone.
Maddie: You told me he'd pull through!
>> I lied. Now: cops get this video, or you do as told.
Arozi wiped his nose, grinning. "Better hurry, gorgeous. This shit's not gonna last all night."
The room tilted.
Jason's hands on her waist. His laugh when she unbuttoned his jeans. "Damn, Maddie. You're full of surprises."
She really didn't want to but she'd told herself it was just this once. That the money would fix everything.
The money was for mom's bills. The money was for their tuition fees.
Tears began falling from her eyes.
The man at the diner's body hitting the ground. She'd told herself it was just a prank. Until the ambulance arrived.
Now a man was dead.
Now there was a gun.
"I'm a despicable person who doesn't deserve to live."
Arozi flopped onto the couch, rubbing his temples. "You okay, baby?"
Madison's fingers hovered over the drawer.
Mika's laughter in the car. Her lips mouthing lyrics in the front row. The way she'd looked at her when she said, "We'll figure it out."
Do I even deserve happiness?
Her hand closed around the grip.
...
Written by Rebel_King_Rebel.
ns216.73.216.94da2
