"Think I oughta settle down and find me somethin' I can take back to my hometown" I mouth at the camera, lifting my leg to show off my black leather boots. Ashton steps in front of me, singing, "But I told 'em that I'm savage, they just tryna tell me-"

I laugh as we sing the last line together, leaning towards the camera. The video finishes, taking me to the editing page. I grab the phone as Ashton pushes her hair behind her ears. "What's so funny?" 

I watch the video once before uploading it to TikTok without a caption. Try again, Wallen. I lock my phone as I look up at her. "Nothing, I just thought you trying to rap was funny." She crosses her arms as she rolls her eyes at me. "You ought to be a little nicer to your big sis. After all, I am helping you get back at your... situationship." I hum, grabbing my purse. I try to not show my annoyance- it was a one-time thing, and I don't understand why everyone is making it out to be a bigger deal than it is. "He's not my situationship. We hooked up. Once."

Ashton rolls her eyes again, typing quickly on her phone. "Whatever you say. Is everyone ready?" She shouts, leaving the room.  I slide my purse up my arm as the anxiety gnaws at me. This is it. Today is the day. I have to make amends for Taylor. It wouldn't be so hard if he wasn't so... cocky. And didn't always think he was right. My cheeks tingle at the thought of his stupid smirk and sideways smile. 

"C'mon," Nash nods, tying a bandana around her head. I follow her out the door, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Morgan better not fuck this up.

---

Robbie is the first to walk onto the stage. He wears a black sleeveless tank top with a bandana tied around his head, pushing his hair from his face. He twirls a drumstick around, his nimble fingers moving swiftly and full of grace. I cheer loudly, shouting his name as he takes a seat behind his drum set. Charles follows him, his guitar hanging from its strap around his neck. Nic yells loudly, making sure everyone knows 'that's her man'. I smile- I know how proud she is of him. Their relationship is so genuine, and they're the reason I believe someone is out there for me.

My twin sister finally takes the stage. Whistles and claps echo through the venue as she tauntingly struts across the stage. She wears a Sex Pistols tee tied right above her belly button. Under her black shorts are a pair of fishnet tights, leading down to her glimmering red platform boots. Brooks grabs the microphone, welcoming everyone. 

"Hey guys! We're Urban Echo! Thank you all for coming to the official release party for our new album, The Anthem. Before we play some of our songs, I'd like to thank a couple people." I pull out my phone to record her speech, pressing my hand over my chest as my heart beats harshly. "Our manager, producers, everyone who helped us create this album. We spent so many long nights writing, creating music, and making this perfect. Most importantly, I'd like to thank our fans. None of this would be possible without you."

Tears sting at the corner of my eyes as I watch my sister live out her dream, right in front of me. I can't help but become emotional at her accomplishments. This is all she's ever wanted since we were little.

 "We'd also like to thank our parents, my sisters, Ashton, Nash, and Juliette. Charle's fiancé, Nicole. And all of you guys, for coming out to see us tonight. And with that, here is the opening track to our album- Weightless."

They perform the new track, and we dance. By the end of the 3-minute song, I'm a little too hot for comfort. I can't tell if it's from the dancing or from being smashed against everyone nearby, but I have to sit down. "I'm tapping out for a second," I yell to Nicole over the speakers. She nods without looking at me, clapping loudly as they finish the song.

I push through the crowd, searching for the bar to take a seat. "Excuse me," I mumble, pushing through all dancing bodies until someone wraps their hand around my wrist. I gasp as I'm pulled back and directly into someone's chest. "What the f-"

"Hey there, Ms. Copelan," Morgan smiles down at me tauntingly. My heart thumps quickly against my ribcage at the sight of the country singer. I bear a faux smile, prying my wrist from his grasp. "Morgan! Terrible seeing you here." He laughs falsely, his smile widening. "Ah, aren't you charming? Listen, I know we gotta fake nice for the cameras. Let's get it over with, eh?" 

I fan myself with my hand as I roll my eyes. "Is it hot in here to you?" I lean over to speak directly into his ear. I can feel my palms beginning to moisten with sweat. "Nah," he answers, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Look, I see a spot right in the middle. Perfect place for paps."

Before I can retort, he grabs my wrist and pulls me through the crowd. I try to excuse myself to everyone Morgan pulls me into all while trying not to fall over. Brooks and Charles are covering their rendition of "Check Yes Juliet" as Morgan pulls me into him, placing his hands on my waist. I lazily wrap my arms around his neck, internally cursing out Taylor. Only she could come up with a form of torture this evil. Morgan smacks his lips together before pulling me closer. Heat radiates from him, and I feel like I'm going to pass out. 

"You don't have to milk it, you know," I mumble, trying to swallow the nausea that hits me like a freight train. "Let a guy have some fun," he grins annoyingly, spinning me into an empty spot in the crowd. My vision blurs at the sudden tilt of my worldview. "Oh," I whisper to myself as he pulls me back into his chest. I grip his bicep, trying to steady myself. His breath fans my face as he dips down to whisper in my ear. " D'ya like your song?"

I roll my eyes, trying to keep my composure. "Of course I do. People have been singing this to me forever." A sly grin slides across Morgan's face. "Your song. I saw your video. D'ya like it? Wrote it just for you." My mouth falls slightly before I grit my teeth together. "Asshole," I mutter, squinting my eyes at the man in front of me. He brushes a piece of hair from my face. "You think you're cute, don't you?" My cheeks are flaming and my chest tightens- either from Morgan's comment or the sickly feeling that is eating away at my body. I'm a little too aware of everything- how tightly he's gripping my hips, how many people are watching us, and how I can hear every breath Brooks takes before she begins her next line. "Morgan-"

He spins me out once again and the edges of my vision darken. I squeeze my eyes shut as he pulls me back in. I ball up his shirt in my fist, trying to ground myself from the sickening feeling that's creeping up my spine like a parasite. "What? Can't get enough of me?" I can hear his smirk. "I think I'm gonna pass out," I whisper, my head reeling.

"Huh?" He asks, leaning in to hear me. I swallow thicky, my unsteady voice repeating, "I think I'm gonna pass out."

His eyes widen as he pulls away. "Oh shit, yeah, you don't look too hot right now." I lean into him, lifting my shaking hand to push the hair from my sticky face. "I know you aren't talking."

He lets out a huff at my pathetic jab as he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me through the crowd. After what felt like forever, Morgan gently lowers me down to a bench near the bathrooms. I lean against the wall behind me, trying to find my insulin pen with trembling hands. "What're you lookin' for? What'da I needa do?" He asks, confusion knitted in his brows. "My pen," I whisper, letting him take the bag from my grasp. 

Through blurry vision, I can make out him digging frantically through my bag. He pulls out the pink tube, looking at it with a lost expression. "What'da need to do?"

"I just- I just need to dose," I pant, lifting my shirt slightly to reveal the lower part of my stomach. "Twist the top to 5 units."

I hear the familiar clicking of the dial as he follows my instructions carefully. "Squeeze my stomach and give it to me, like a shot. Press the button."

His rough hands gently pinch my stomach and I can tell he's nervous. "Harder, Morgan," I instruct, trying to provide some sense of reassurance. I hope my quivering voice sounds sure enough to provide a little comfort. 

His 'harder' isn't much harder. "Harder, Morgan. C'mon, you can't hurt me." He finally grasps it firmly before delivering the dose. The pinch is sharp and I don't flinch- but Morgan does. 

After about 30 seconds, I push his hand away. I try to steady my breathing as Morgan caps the pen and puts it away in my purse, looking anywhere except my face. There is a moment of silence between us, and I can't decipher if it's a sweet, intimate moment, or an awkward, weird one. Morgan is still kneeling, his hand resting on my thigh. He finally meets my eyes- I can see both fear and confusion swimming in the blue of his gaze. 

"Okay," I sigh, smoothing down my hair. The exhaustion creeps in, replacing the harsh adrenaline that was fueling me just moments ago. I pick up my bag, rising to my feet slowly. I breathe deeply, trying to shake off the slight embarrassment that heats up my neck. Typical. There goes Juliette, ruining everything, making it about her.

"Juliette," Morgan calls, following me as I weave through the sea of people. I cheer with the rest of the crowd as the band finished their song. Robbie is the one to announce the next track- something different from their usual style, titled "Fall for You". He leans into the microphone, his voice pouring from the speakers like a gentle stream. I turn on my heel, walking into Morgan's grasp. 

His hands grasp my waist and mine find home behind his neck. We sway slowly to my friend's voice. I watch Morgan's ears turn pink before he leans in. "What the hell was that?"

I close my eyes, leaning into his chest, ignoring him. While I appreciate his help, there's no way I'd let him into such a personal part of my life. I would've rathered handle it myself- regardless of how bad off I was. I can just hope that my sugar spike didn't trigger her. She wants a performance. And if she wants a performance, I'll give her a damn good one.

"Juliette," He forces, his teeth grit together. I run my hand into his hair, pulling his face close to mine. "Are you going to keep talking or shut up and give our managers a show?"

He pulls away, a look of disbelief on his face. He scans my face, trying to determine whether or not I'm being serious. I raise my eyebrows. His shock melts into a sly smirk before he slides one hand to my upper back, pulling me a little too close. 

"What are you doing?" I whisper harshly, trying to keep a neutral expression. I feel like Katniss trying to convince Snow of her and Peeta's authenticity of their love. 

His eyes flicker with some sort of devious glimmer. He looks down at my mouth and I could just pass out. This was not a part of the plan. My heart races in my throat as his lips brush against mine. There's no way this is happening. "Givin' them a show. Now shut up and kiss me."