Page 2 of Starstruck

I nodded at her. “I have my life back.”

“Yeah, you do.” Her arms wrapped around me a second later,pulling me in for a quick hug before releasing me. “And I know this isn’t normal, but I just thought the VIP area would let your short arse at least see the stage— Oi!”

My eyes rolled as I nudged her, still getting used to her typicalEnglish charm. “Oh, what would I do without you and your PR team?”

She huffed a laugh as she looked around the crowd, her lips tugginginto a frown. “Probably get swept up in a stampede of angry rock fans.”

I grinned, glancing around. “Whoallseem to know you, too. Who knew you and indie rock bands shared such a demographic?”

Her eyes narrowed, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Sarcasm from you feels like it's coming from Winnie the Pooh.”

We both chuckled, the moment light between us, until a tap on her shoulder broke the rhythm. A group of girls, all bright smiles and matching outfits, hovered nearby, phones in hand, asking for photos with her.

Cora had already been stopped several times for photo’s by peoplewho recognised her from her social platforms, and being one of the more well known influencers of our generation, I wasn’t surprised. As the leading lady of kids sitcoms, I was even more grateful that my fan base couldn’t have had a larger collective age than twelve, forever in awe of her and how she stays so zen around the crowds.

As the thought of shuffling down a packed red carpet, with hecklescoming from every angle, floated through my head, I counted my lucky stars that I’d left that life behind. The sets, the press appearances, the contracts—all of it was in the past now.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a bundle of pink nearingtowards us, followed by deep brown eyes and blonde spiral curls. My calves burned as I strained on my tip toes, waving my hand in the air to get Rory and Daisy’s attention as they searched for us. Daisy caught my eyes a moment later, before tapping Rory on the shoulder and both of their faces stretching into a smile as they cleared through the crowd to reach us.

“Can you believe that? $50 for a t-shirt. A t-shirt!!” Rory shoutedas she and Daisy slipped into the roped-off section of the audience, shaking said t-shirt as she did.

“Why did you buy it then?” Cora asked, snickering.

Rory rustled her shoulders. “It feels wrong not going to a concertand spending your life savings on the merch, it’s like a trophy.”

Daisy nodded from beside Rory, her curls bouncing as she did. “It’strue, although I just went with a patch.” She pulled the patch, made up of the bands logo, out of her pocket. “And it was only $6.”

Daisy was the girl who’d been assigned to the same dorm as me, andalthough I’d only known her for eight hours, I could tell she was going to fit in well with us.

“Thank you so much again for the tickets, Cora." My roommate beamed. "Are you sure wedon’t have to pay you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” She smiled at Daisy. “My management got themfor free anyway, and I thought it could be nice to have our first group outing in the VIP section of a Moody Sunday’s concert.”

I hadn’t heard of the band either until about three hours ago, whenCora burst into our dorm, Rory following behind her with the tickets in her hand. And for those next three hours before we had to leave, I was balled up on my bed with my headphones on, trying to learn the lyrics to the set list so I didn’t look like a bore with my mouth closed the entire time.

I found myself reciting the lyrics to one of the songs I found thecatchiest in my head as murmurs began from the crowd, right as I noticed Rory take the t-shirt she’d bought and throw it over her head, pulling it down her body and completely blocking out every ounce of pink she’d existed in.

I threw my hands up pathetically as she tied the excess fabric inthe middle of her torso. “Great, now I look like I got lost on my way to a Kidzbop concert.”

All three of them look over me, the gleaming white fabric making mestand out more than I ever wanted to.

Daisy tilted her head at me. “You look adorable.”

“And adorable is what’s going to get me killed,” I said back to her, atight, sarcastic smile plaguing my face.

“If you want to go and buy a shirt so you blend in, I’ll go with you,the opening artist hasn’t even come on yet.” Cora shrugged. “Shall we go?”

“Umm.” Rory croaked, before looking over to me. “Not only do Irespect you enough to stop you from wasting a small loan on band merch that you’ll never wear again, but there was barely anything left when we got there. Nothing but water bottles and the patches Daisy got.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I refuse to buy anything blackthat’ll just haunt my wardrobe.”

Black wasn’t my colour. If that wasn’t already obvious by the fact Ilook like a Polly Pocket in a sea of gorgeous Monster High dolls.

And before I realised what had happened, the arena lights wentoff, darkening everything around us, and the screams from the crowd only got louder, making my bones feel electrified. The spotlights angled at the black curtain that was being pulled away from the stage, revealing a band, and shortly after, a guy with a cream guitar jogged from the smoke that lingered towards the back of the stage.

My friends all whooped and screamed as whoever he was addressedthe crowd, waving and winking at the few girls who were practically falling over the barriers that separated us from him.

“Good evening, New York. My name is Tristan Harper, and I knowyou weren’t expecting me here tonight but… surprise.” Screams coming from all different corners of the concert hall broke up his words, making a smirk peek on his mouth as they hit his ears. “Why, you’re a lot nicer than people say you are, ain’t ya?” More screams echoed around the hall, including a few from my friends.

---