The audience's cheers are so loud I can barely hear myself think as red lights flash over the crowd, illuminating hundreds of screaming faces. The music, impossibly louder than the applause, vibrates through the floor and into my feet, seemingly shaking the entire venue. I watch as MisFits performs their second show in London from behind stage, tonight's crowd being exceptionally rowdy, only fueling Beau's dramatics that much more. I twist the necklace he gave me between my fingers nervously, wishing there was a way to get him to just calm down.

I smile at the necklace momentarily - Beau's first ever guitar pick, with scratchy teenage handwriting on one side reading "B.L." and the on the other side, a more recent professional engraving that reads "love you." Many of the stylists the past few weeks have tried to remove it, saying it clashes with my outfits, but I've refused each time. Until Zara and Oliver have something to say about it, it's staying, and probably even then, I think to myself.

A crash from on-stage jolts me from my thoughts and I look up in time to see Beau kick some of the sound equipment hard enough to damage it, causing the audience to roar loudly in praise. Still strumming hard on his bass, Tyler approaches Beau and whispers something in his ear, but Beau only dismisses him, grabbing Jace's mic stand and making a spectacle of throwing it over his head and across the stage. Jace breaks the song to holler in approval, accompanied by the frenzied shrieks of the fans, but beside me, Val taps a pen to her clipboard rapidly.

I run a hand over my eyes; it was just last week that Beau was kicked out of a pub in Dublin for trying to start a fight. I'd set out on the tour excited to see new places, but so far, Beau's behavior has limited us to the inside of a private jet and hotel suites.

"Oh no," Val groans, her pen tapping impossibly quicker than before.

I peek beyond the curtain, bracing myself for Beau's latest mischief. Jace and Beau have grabbed their water bottles, shaking them over the audience's heads and spraying the first few rows. He and Jace laugh hysterically while Zach and Tyler continue to play their notes, looking defeated. I cringe, not recognizing this side of Beau - the Beau Lewis from the tabloids, not the one who hums me to sleep on the plane rides or says hello to Nana every time I call the nursing home.

As the show wraps up, Tyler and Zach storm off stage while Jace and Beau take their time, basking in the cheers of the fans. Swinging a bra over his head, Jace thanks everyone for coming out while Beau takes a dramatic bow. When he finally comes off stage, Beau takes the stairs two at a time, shaking out his damp bed head, sending sweat droplets through the air as he does. "Hey baby," he plants a fat kiss on my mouth and I taste the sweet flavor of whiskey on his lips.

"Are you drunk?" I ask quietly, silently impressed that he didn't mess up any of the music. Just the performance, I wince.

"So what if I am?" His Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his face lazily as his green eyes twinkle down at me, red rimmed and outlined in smudged eyeliner.

I catch his face between my hands and pull him down to my level, hearing the footsteps of the fans with backstage passes coming our way. "You need to take it down a notch, Beau. I'm serious, what was that out there?"

He rolls his eyes casually. "I gave the people what they wanted and they loved it." We both raise our heads to the fans now waiting behind security to meet the guys, some of them soaked in what I'm assuming is Beau's water. The smiles on their faces supporting his point, Beau saunters off to the meet and greet photo area, taking a long swig of whiskey before he does.

He throws his arm around a female fan, gripping her waist a bit tighter than I'd like, and I divert my attention across the room to where Fiona and Rocco are chatting in a corner, expressions serious and voices low. Fiona raises her eyes to Beau, her lips pursed tightly as she snaps something else and walks away. Rocco stares after her before letting out a big huff and shaking his head at the guys, eyes trailing a little longer over his wild guitar player.

Rocco catches me watching him and smiles half-heartedly before plopping down on the couch and taking a long swig from his beer. Eyeing Beau leaning in close so a fan can whisper in his ear, her dainty hand resting on his neck, I reach for the bottle of tequila and pour myself a shot. Trying to ignore the way Beau grins at the group of women surrounding him, clad in ripped denim and worn leather, I focus on the fiery alcohol making its way down my throat, settling in my belly and swirling itself in alongside my jealousy.

Once the concert stuff is wrapped up for the evening, I decide to skip the after party and go out with Val instead. Walking down the sidewalk, the drizzle overhead dampens our hair, grey clouds visible even in the night sky. I take in the architecture around me, breathing in the damp air and wishing I could spend more time seeing the sights during the day.

"Whatcha thinking over there, Emma?" Val's dark ringlets drip into her foggy glasses.

I let out a deep sigh. "It's obvious right? I'm worried about Beau," I shake my head as we make our way into a pub, the warm air embracing us as we walk through the old wooden door.

Dimly lit and crowded, the pub is surprisingly welcoming with live music and a large selection of beers on tap. Val takes a stool at the bar and I plop in the one beside her. While we wait for the bartender to finish up with a loud group of guests at the other end, I continue. "All the destruction, the drinking... the flirting," I admit, scrunching my nose up at myself.

Val removes her coat and orders a couple of beers for us. "That's just Beau, though, right?" She shrugs, trying to be comforting. "It's not like this is a sudden change for him," Val chuckles and raises her brows like she knows all too well. "I mean, if it was, you wouldn't be here, right?" Biting my lip, I stay quiet, unsure how to respond. Because that isn't just Beau, at least not the one I know. I think of the charity concert and how focused he was on his music, of the time spent working in the studio well into the night...

No one knows just how serious Beau and I have gotten beyond our contract, and I try to remind myself of that - no one sees him the way I do.

But Val knew him before, so maybe she does know best. We drink quietly for a bit, the beer warming our insides as the live music raises our spirits. Finally, Val makes it to the dance floor and I laugh watching her dance with an elderly man, head thrown back in laughter as she confuses the steps. It's nice to see her like this, not shriveled up under Fiona's microscope.

"Another one, please," Val slams down some cash beside me, completely out of breath. The bartender obliges and she takes a large gulp of the dark ale, looking to me with glassy eyes. "Dance with me?"

I shake my head, not in the mood. "I think you should ask him instead, he's been eyeing you all night," I direct her attention to the far wall, where a young guy, blond and bearded, smiles in response.

Val turns back to me quickly, blushing bright red. "Oh my gosh, should I?"

With a little encouragement, Val saunters over to the the man and before I know it, they're on the dance floor. After a couple minutes of watching to ensure things go well, I turn and face the bar, taking my phone from my pocket. I might as well use this time to coordinate my travel, I groan inwardly. As the guys take a week long hiatus midway through the tour, I'm to fly out to LA for a shoot Oliver and Zara booked me for.

The ads and the show went perfectly, and according to my agents, garnered quite a bit of attention in the fashion world. Which is great - I remind myself how much closer I am to being able to afford school - but also exhausting.

Breaking me from my concentration, the bartender knocks a couple times on the glass bar top in front of me. "Anything else? We're about to close up,"

"Oh wow," I check my watch and gasp at how much time has passed. "No thank you," It's already two in the morning, and we have an early flight out of London in a few hours. I reluctantly grab Val from her new friend and begin our trek home, laughing the entire time at her drunken ramblings.

***

Swiping my keycard into the hotel door, I notice the light shining from underneath and hear the music blasting inside. "You've got to be kidding me," fists clenched, I shove the door open.

My jaw drops at the sight in front of me. Our room is trashed, bottles of liquor spill onto the rug, snack crumbs crunch under my feet, smoke fills the air, and people, so many people, lounge over the furniture. My eyes fall on a couple of girls, wearing only their pants and lace bras, and my temper flares.

No one looks up at my presence and the anger twists tighter inside me. I scan the room for Beau, marching towards him once I spot him in bed, playing cards with more shirtless women, Jace, and a couple of other guys that I don't recognize.

Smoke clouds the air around them, but Beau himself nurses a large bottle of whiskey held tightly in his lap. "Oh!" He shouts in excitement as Jace reveals his winning hand and they both chug out of their bottles like frat boys. One of the women leans close to Beau, her head nearly resting on his shoulder. I watch as he stiffens, shifting slightly but not moving away completely.

"Beau." I snap over the music, my hands shaking with anger. No response. "Beau!" I shout, just as the song dies down.

Startled faces turn to stare at me, but I can only glare at Beau, ignoring everyone else for now. His expression doesn't change when he sees me, "Emma, you made it," He beckons for me to join him, a stupid, drunk grin plastered on his face.

Not moving from my spot, I shake my head and raise my voice. "No, I think it's time for everyone to leave." Finally, I look around the room, meeting the eyes of Beau's guests. "All of you, get going. Out," I motion towards the door.

"Beau, who's the buzzkill?" The woman pouts and bats her lashes at him, leaning into him comfortably.

Finally, I snap, my anger boiling over. "Get the FUCK out of my room!" I point towards the door, and the girl jumps, grabbing her shirt quickly and rushing to the door. Other guests follow suit, leaving trash and burnt out cigarettes wherever they can reach.

Holding the door for everyone to leave, I bite my tongue as Jace stops in front of me. When I don't speak, he shakes his head at me. "You sure know how to kill the mood, Emma."

"Fuck off," I push the door open wider and he passes through, grumbling to himself.

Once everyone is gone, I look to Beau, a scowl on my face. "I don't get why you're so pissed, it was just a party," He stands and makes his way over to me, stumbling slightly, but I turn my head away from him.

"You too," I mutter, not meeting his eyes.

Beau falters, his head tilted to the side. "What?"

Raising my eyes to his, I'm reminded of the same arrogant man I met that first day at the cafe. "Get out."

"Are you serious?" His thick brows pull together tightly as he searches my face for answers.

I nod wordlessly and he stumbles through the doorway, facing me with confusion in his eyes. "Emma, come on, it was nothing-"

I interrupt him, keeping my tone even and cool. "The flight is at 6 AM. Don't be late." He stares back at me, opening and closing his mouth, for the first time, probably ever, not having any idea what to say. With that, I close the door softly and lock it for the night.

Back into the room, I rinse off my face and get into some comfortable clothing. Too angry to fall asleep, and unable to find a clean surface even if I could, I spend the next couple of hours cleaning the room as best I can, not wanting to leave Beau's mess for the housekeeping staff.

After about an hour of picking up, I take the half empty cans of alcohol into the bathroom. Feeling exhausted in more ways than one, I watch the dark beer swirl down the drain, my mind completely blank.