Page 9 of Starstruck

Cade’s voice echoed in my mind as I stared blankly out the window,my gaze drifting along the raindrops racing down the glass. The memory of that two-hour meeting with my manager and the board pressed against me, heavy and suffocating. I could almost hear the weight of their judgment; the thought of asking for time away from London felt like standing on a precipice, knowing they’d no doubt drop my arse the moment I revealed the reason.

I knew the risks that came with what I’d done, what had been doneto me, and how, if this were to ever get out of our inner circle, the label would do anything to stop being associated with me. And just like that, any hopes I’d had of the career in music that I’d had in the palm of my hands would be ripped away from me and torn to shreds.

He can have as much time as he needs.

I wasn’t shy about expressing to Cade just how much that meant tome—that somewhere behind his hitman stance and constant frown, I knew there was a man who was softer than his exterior. But as long as this stayed between us and I worked on myself, I’d be fine.

He also made me do him the favour of covering for the support actwho was supposed to do the Moody Sunday’s concert last night, so we were even.

I brought my head up slowly, running my hands over my face,catching the sleep that lived in the corners of them before locking eyes with my dad. “I know,” I mumbled. “I just... I just don’t know if here is the right place.”

Dad shrugs, his hands resting on his knees as he leans forward, theleather seat beneath him squeaking. “It’s different, Trist; we know that. But different is what you need right now.” He looked at Mum before putting his dark eyes back on me. “We could have just kept you holed up in your flat, or sent you up to a lighthouse at Lands End, but even that would be too close to London to know that you were safe.” He dropped a hand on my knee. “But here... you know New York.”

I huffed. “Barely.”

“You know it, sweetheart, more than you probably remember,” Mumstarted, the brief memories of the breaks we took during the summer holidays while Dad was over here working were a breeze through my mind. “And before everything took off with your songs, you always talked about turning eighteen and flitting off to uni.” Her head angled as she smiled at me. “This is your chance to be on your own, Tristan, before things take off and you suddenly have to grow up.”

Even though I was nineteen now, I’d already felt like I’d had enoughhappen to me to last a hundred lifetimes. Growing up turned into breaking down too fucking quickly, and now I was dealing with the aftermath. Existing in the rubble.

I looked into my mum’s sky-blue eyes as she said that, the familiarlines on her face deeper than they were before. Once I spotted the swell of tears bordering her lash line, I didn’t hesitate before grabbing her hands, and sliding to the edge of the car seat. “I’ll be okay.” She peered up at me with tear-soaked lashes. “I will.”

Mum was the first of the two of them to see me in the hospital bedthat night. A drip in my arm, four monitors attached to me and my skin almost the same blue as the shade in her eyes. She practically ran to my bedside, while Dad remained still at the entrance to the room, the doctor who’d seen me lingering by his side. Mum’s cheeks were already soaked with tears as she cupped my face and smiled at me, while my dad was frozen. Quiet.

I would be too if a doctor had told me that my child had overdosedand been minutes away from taking their last breath.

I wonder what they thought of me, seeing me like that. Before I'm sure they were screaming my name from the rafters, to all their friends and even strangers on the street knowing them two. They would have been proud, and part of me couldn't help but wonder if some of that pride has vanished since then.

Their eyes flickered with uncertainty, bodies tense as they restedcloser together, but none of us spoke of the worry that hung in the air. I could feel it too—stepping out alone for the first time since it happened, especially on the other side of the world.

But, as I looked around at the grounds just outside the window, aquiet conviction settled in me.

I had to be here, strange as it felt to admit it, I did.

Liberty Grove was one of those places I’d heard about in passing,like how I’d heard people bragging about going to Harvard or Yale in movies, but I never thought I’d be looking up at it like I am now, never mind enrolling as a student.

But beneath the swarm of nerves twisting in my stomach, there was something else—something deeper. A flicker of excitement about what lay ahead once I stepped through those doors. Strange as it felt, there was no denying it.

I knew that music still buzzed beneath my skin, a constant hum thatwouldn’t quit, even as I studied the streets that felt like a distant memory. New York was a mess of sounds, the rumble of traffic, the chatter of strangers, and somewhere, the distant thrum of bass from a passing car. But it wasn't home. And maybe that was the point. I needed this—the unfamiliarity, the sharp edges of a city that never let you catch your breath.

Last night, the stage lights had burned hot, my guitar vibratingunder my fingers, and for the first time in months, the words had come. Not all of them, not enough to fill an album if I was offered one, but enough to make the goosebumps rise when I heard the crowd. Their voices had hit me like a jolt—scattered lyrics thrown back at me, imperfect but alive. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

I shoved my hands deeper into my jacket pockets as I sat back inmy seat. Until I had the version of myself back that I recognised, there was this—student life, books, and the stretch of time between now and whatever came next.

“We know you’ll be fine, mate,” Dad reassured me. “And you know, ifwe could have, we would have arranged a flat so you had your own space, but freshmen have to live in the halls, or dorms, or whatever they’re called.” The corner of his mouth pulled higher, almost sympathetically. “College rules, mate.”

“It’s fine,” I assured him, letting a smile attempt to tug at thecorners of my mouth. “Really.”

Honestly, the idea of having a dorm mate wasn’t the worst thing.Maybe even a good thing, in some twisted way.

For a moment, my head was a blur from the faded memories ofgrowing up, the only clear thing about it was the image of me, alone, through every year at school whilst people I wished would suddenly remember me ran past me with infectious smiles.

I could never figure out what it was about me that kept me on theedges. Maybe I’d said the wrong thing, or maybe I just never said enough. Whatever it was, the isolation clung to me through secondary school too, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

But now, there was someone forced to share a space with me. It wasa start, at least.

I’d say I was grateful for it—for being a loner and never having theprivilege of a friend group. I’d say it made me more resilient to the bullshit and the fakeness that came with dipping my toes into a fame I never imagined for myself.

Looking back now, it was the beginning of the end. But in themoment, it felt like life had finally started. And I couldn’t help but cling to the sadness of it all.

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