Page 1 of Pack to the Wall

ONE

CHRISSY

The camera flashes blinded Chrissy with each step down the red carpet. Her midnight blue gown—chosen by one of her stylists, not her—hugged her curves in a way that the magazine reporters couldn't stop raving about. The sweetheart neckline dipped just low enough to be sexy without crossing into scandalous territory, the crystal beading catching the light with each step. Perfect for the charity gala. Perfect for headlines. Perfect for everyone but her.

"Smile wider," Leslie hissed into her ear, her fingers digging into Chrissy's elbow. "The Hadid sisters just arrived and everyone's looking this way."

Chrissy cranked up her smile a few notches. The muscles in her face ached with the effort.

"Three more photographers, then straight to the greenroom for final prep," Leslie rattled off, her clipboard clutched in her free hand. "You memorized your speech, right? The charity's name is Youth Forward Alliance, founded by Stella Wang, and you're presenting a check for fifty thousand."

The words blurred together. Chrissy nodded mechanically. The details would come to her when she needed them. They always did.

"God, you look exhausted." Maggie fell into step on Chrissy's other side, powder brush already in hand. "Let me fix your T-zone before the next flash blinds you."

Chrissy stood still as Maggie dabbed at her face. At least Maggie's touch felt gentle and human.

"Thanks, Mags." Chrissy's voice came out raspier than intended. "Don't suppose you smuggled in a Red Bull?"

"Better." Maggie slipped a tiny espresso shot into her hand. "Slam it while Leslie's distracted."

Chrissy downed the bitter liquid in one gulp, grateful for the momentary jolt. "You're a lifesaver."

"Empire Records newest sensation, Chrissy Rivera!" A reporter thrust a microphone toward her face. "How does it feel headlining tonight's event?"

The practiced answer flowed easily. "I'm honored to support such an amazing cause. Youth Forward Alliance changes lives, and that's what music should do too."

Words she believed but hadn't written. Words that had been crafted and approved and handed to her on a notecard this morning.

Inside the venue, crystal chandeliers cast honeyed light across the ballroom. Celebrities mingled with tech moguls and fashion icons, champagne flutes in hand. A year ago, Chrissy would have been star-struck. Now she just wanted a moment to breathe.

"Ten minutes until you're on," Leslie growled, checking her watch when they finally made their way to the greenroom. "Remember, you're introducing Stella Wang first, presenting the check, then performing your set."

"Stella Wang," Chrissy repeated, trying to cement the name in her memory.

Ten minutes later, the stage lights hit her like a physical force as she stepped into the spotlight. Five hundred faces turned toward her, expressions of expectation and admiration on them.

"Good evening, everyone." Chrissy's voice echoed through the speakers. "It's my privilege to be here tonight supporting Youth Forward Alliance and their incredible work with at-risk teenagers across Los Angeles."

The words flowed smoothly until the moment arrived to introduce the founder.

"Please welcome to the stage the visionary founder of this amazing organization, Stella Rang—" Chrissy froze, realizing her mistake instantly. The crowd's polite applause faltered. "I mean Wang! Stella Wang, everyone! Guess that's what happens when you're running on enough caffeine to power a small country."

The audience laughed, the tension dissolving. Stella Wang, a striking woman in her forties wearing a sleek red pantsuit, stepped onto the stage with a wide smile.

"Thank you, Chrissy. I've been called worse, believe me." She winked at the audience. "Usually by my teenage son when I tell him his curfew."

Relief washed through Chrissy as she handed over the oversized check. Camera flashes captured the moment, and Stella gave her a genuine hug before exiting the stage.

Chrissy then executed her thirty-minute set on stage with practiced ease. Once she strummed the final chords of 'Daddy's Girl' on her acoustic guitar, she swung it over her shoulder and took a bow. The crowd erupted with thunderous applause.

That song had changed her life forever. One year ago, she'd recorded herself singing that original song a cappella while playing her acoustic guitar in her bedroom wearing her dad's old flannel shirt. Several minutes after she'd recorded the video on her phone, she'd posted it to TikTok, and it went viral. Now, it felt like that song belonged to someone else.

Her eyes burned with fatigue as she waved to the crowd. Five songs performed flawlessly, but the notes had felt mechanical, and the emotions manufactured. Her dad would have noticed immediately. He always said music needed heart to matter.

God, she missed him. With her busy schedule these days, she never got to see him.

As she stepped backstage, Leslie was already waiting with her phone out. "Not your best, but it'll do. The name slip-up is already trending, but your recovery was cute. Oh, and Marty wants you at the studio at 6 AM tomorrow."

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