King of the Nightlife

LIAM

“Hello?” I repeated, listening to the silence on the other line. I glanced at the screen quickly to see if they’d hung up.

~Nope. Still there.~

“I can hear you breathing,” I stated, a second away from ending the call.

~Probably some fucking kids.~

“I’m looking for Freya,” came a deep, hollow voice.

No one I recognized—though it wasn’t like I knew everyone in Freya’s life.

I glanced back to Freya, who was still fast asleep, her eyelids fluttering faintly.

She looked like she was dreaming.

“Sorry, Freya can’t talk right now,” I replied, stepping onto cool marble floor and crossing to the window.

I peered behind the thick drapery into the city below us, which was bustling with life.

~Shit. What time is it?~

Still groggy, I almost forgot that I was on the phone.

The other line had fallen silent once again.

“Hello? You still there?” I asked.

“Is this Liam?” the man inquired, though it didn’t feel like a question.

“Yeah,” I said defensively. “Who’s this?”

My question was met with another bout of silence.

~Who the FUCK is this?~

“Look, dude—I’m about two seconds from—”

“I’m a friend of Freya’s. Would you mind giving her a message for me?” he interjected.

~Why doesn’t she have his number saved?~

“Could you please tell her that this is her last chance to stay away from you?” he continued with an air of bullshit politeness.

~Who is this piece of shit?~

~What does he mean “her last chance”?~

“Who the ~fuck~ is this?” I practically growled into the phone, feeling the latent rage stirring in my core.

My breathing became heavy as I paced in front of Freya, my eyes glued to her sleeping frame.

“This will be her final warning,” he added cheerfully.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you better back the fuck off,” I spat through clenched teeth.

I glanced down at the phone.

~That motherfucker hung up!~

~Does Freya know him?~

My fingers were turning purple as I clutched her cracked phone in a death grip, staring down at the lock screen.

There were five missed calls from “Unknown.”

Two texts.

Fingers shaking, I dared to press the home button.

~Seriously?~

Freya didn’t even have a passcode on her phone.

Which was good for me, but ~Jesus~.

As I searched through her phone, the trembling in my fingers steadily spread throughout my entire body.

In the last twenty-four hours, the fucker had called her nine times.

I scrolled though her texts, gritting my teeth as I read the threats to stay away from me from this dude, who was calling her “sweetheart.”

~She lied to me.~

~Again.~

FREYA

I woke to the sound of a massive crash.

~What the…~

I was alone.

Another loud noise pulled me from bed, though this time it sounded like breaking glass.

I wandered from the bedroom into the one of the sitting rooms where I found Liam standing in his underwear in the middle of the room, shoulders heaving.

There was a peculiar, crazed look in his eye, and as I traced the floor, I saw that he was standing amid what appeared to be the expensive remains of a crystal vase.

“Liam, are you—” I took a step forward, suddenly on high alert.

“Freya, don’t! You’ll cut your feet,” he snapped, turning away from me.

As I glanced down, I noticed tiny shards of glass, which gleamed as they caught the morning sunlight streaming in through the window.

I took a step back, my eyes returning to Liam’s sullen figure.

“Liam,” I said slowly, “what is going on?”

He whipped back around to shoot me a venomous look. “What’s going on? I could ask you the same thing!”

~Alright, the last thing I remember is falling asleep after hours of sex…what the hell happened?~

“I’m confused,” I admitted.

“Yeah, well, so am I. You lied to me again, ~sweetheart~,” he spat.

I took another step back, wincing.

~Shit.~

“I—I didn’t want to worry you!” I insisted. “I mean, what kind of damage is a text going to do? He’s on another continent.”

“You don’t know that!” he snapped. “He’s threatening you. Do you not know how serious this is? Do you not—can your brain not ~comprehend~ that?”

“I’m not going to let you talk to me like this,” I stated.

“Well, someone needs to! You’re just out here, running around, like—”

“Liam! What the hell is going on?”

I spun around to see Lucinda standing in the doorway. She glanced trepidatiously from Liam to me, then down to the glass on the floor.

“Freya,” Lucinda said, crossing the room, shards of glass crunching under her platform heels.

I watched the veritable alarm spread across her face, and she threw an arm around my shoulder protectively, inspecting me for damage.

“What happened?”

“Her stalker has been sending her death threats!” Liam roared. “And she didn’t think it was something I needed to know about.”

“He’s blowing it out of proportion,” I insisted. “He just sent me a couple texts. And they’re ~not~ death threats.”

~I think.~

“You’re sure?” Lucinda asked me earnestly, squeezing me gently.

I nodded. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll just block the number.”

Lucinda heaved an enormous sigh and tapped her toe against the marble floor, deliberating.

“Alright. Just—just make sure that you stick with Daryl. Okay?”

I was flattered that she would take my side over Liam’s.

~At least someone’s on my side.~

“Liam.” Lucinda turned. “I have another round of interviews for you starting in half an hour. Wyatt’s sorting something out at the venue, so I’ll be taking you there myself.”

It killed me to see him leave when our last encounter still hung in the air, unresolved.

Even if I was angry with him, the last thing I wanted was distance.

“And I’ll get someone to clean this up,” Lucinda added.

My life seemed to be gaining velocity since I met Liam; the highs were euphoric, but the lows were near torment—and I couldn’t help but worry if my relationship with Liam had already peaked.

***

My fingers nervously twirled the backstage pass as I listened to the final song of the concert, knowing that soon I would finally have to face Liam again.

We hadn’t spoken since our fight that morning, and as much as I wanted a moment to take him in my arms and forget about all of the madness, I hadn’t had a single second alone with him.

I’d hardly had a second to myself, in fact.

Liam had insisted on doubling my security, who clung to me like a shadow. Like I was a child who couldn’t be trusted.

I felt like I was being smothered.

“God, he looks good out there,” Ryan shouted over the heightening progression of rock music. “I’m an artist.”

I snapped out of my own head and met his gaze. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Frey, you good?” Ryan asked, tinkering with his earplug.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Liam just upped my security and I feel like I’m losing my mind. How does anyone do this?”

“What?” Ryan yelled over the music. “What did you say?”

“I said I love this song!” I called back.

Ryan smiled and took a sip of his beer.

As the final chords of “Disaster Zone” rang out, I stiffened.

“Thank you, Paris!” Liam praised the crowd, stirring an explosion of diehard applause. And then he was walking across the stage toward me.

I perked up, trying to muster a supportive smile.

“You were great,” I yelled over the buzz of the dissipating crowd, my ears still ringing.

Liam smiled meekly. “Thanks.”

A crew member threw him a towel and he began to dry off his drenched hair.

“I’ll…leave you two alone,” Ryan said with a wink before bounding off backstage to join a cluster of makeup artists convening by a massive speaker.

“Hey, Freya!” Harri bounced over to me, planting a sweaty kiss on my cheek. “Did we do alright?”

“You guys were incredible, per usual,” I answered, forcing a smile to my lips.

“Why, thank you, ma’am,” Jeb replied, brushing past me to whisper something into Liam’s ear. When Liam nodded, Jeb walked off into the recesses of backstage.

“Liam,” I said, turning to him, “I know you have to do your meet and greets, but can we talk after that? I need to—”

“I have to make an appearance at the after-party tonight. I can’t get out of it. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, trying not to take it personally. The tour didn’t revolve around me; he had other obligations.

I took Liam’s hand and brought it to rest against my cheek. Closing my eyes, I basked in the heat rising off of his skin.

“I won’t be too long,” he assured me.

“I’m gonna go back to the hotel,” I told him. “I’ll wait up for you.”

He nodded, before retracting his radiant hand from my embrace and turned, his shoulders slightly slumped, to meet Lucinda.

She smiled at me before leading Liam away, once again.

***

My eyes flew open, stirred awake by the sound of an ominous ~thumping~ which seemed to be radiating through the hotel suite walls.

I sat up slowly, checking my phone for the time.

~4:30 a.m.~

~What the hell…~

Liam had told me that he’d be back to our room after making an appearance at the after party…

But after hours of pacing the suite, of obsessively checking my phone for any word from him, I’d finally fallen asleep.

I couldn’t wait for Liam forever.

I grudgingly swung my feet over the side of the bed and went to investigate the source of the noise.

As I followed the hallway into the first sitting room of the lavish suite, I was greeted by the sound of hip-hop music and the roar of voices and laughter.

Rounding the bend, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Several dozen people—men covered in tattoos, women in short dresses with hair extensions, and a variety of other intruders—were partying it up in the living area.

~You’ve gotta be kidding me.~