Page 84 of Gabriel's Album

“Lose her,” she says quietly, indicating to the woman he brought with him.

“What? No. Why?” Sebastian looks confused.

“She was a bitch to Ariana,” Heather says matter-of-factly, lowering her voice to an undertone that his date won’t be able to hear.

I catch this as I’m entering the limousine and my mouth drops open. I slide onto the limousine’s seat and look at Ariana as she gets into the car. Her face is bright red. I know immediately that Heather isn’t lying, not that she would.

“I won’t get in the same car as her again. Lose her or take a different limo,” Heather says in a slightly louder tone.

I see Sebastian’s date overhear these words, and she glares at Heather, who’s getting in the limo. Sebastian watches Heather get in the car with an eyebrow raised before he shrugs.

“Whatever.” Sebastian turns to Stacey and announces, “Sorry, babe. You’re out.”

“Sebastian, are youserious?!” She gasps at him as he starts to get into the car without her.

“Heather is one of the nicest people I know, and she tells me you were a bitch to my friend. So, I’m not interested in you anymore. Have a nice life.”

“You fuckingasshole!” the woman screams as he shuts the door behind him.

Once we’re all in the safety of the car, there’s a stunned silence as everyone takes a second to process what just happened.

“So, that’ll make for a great news story tomorrow,” Hayden says with a chagrined smile.

“What the hell happened?” I ask Heather and Ariana, wanting to know exactly how Sebastian’s date was ‘a bitch’ to my girlfriend.

Heather tells us that when we went onstage to perform, Stacey had a conversation with the seat-filler who had sat in Sebastian’s seat. She’d made cruel remarks about Ariana and commented on me apparently being ‘thirsty’ for her.

“You’re right; she was a bitch,” Sebastian agrees. “No great loss and I’ll happily wear any blowback that comes my way.”

I hate that I couldn’t protect her from this. I’m also a little bit angry at Sebastian for bringing a stranger with us and making our perfect night anything less than perfect.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Ari,” I say, hugging her tightly to me.

The peace washes over me, and everything is right with the world after hours of not being able to be near her. A few minutes later, Sebastian pours us all glasses of champagne, and we make toasts to ourselves. We pull up at our record label’s after-party and find all the paparazzi and a ton of celebrities waiting for us.

Unlike the usual running of the Gauntlet, we all get out together, then Heather and Ariana step to the side, letting us take the spotlight before we head inside.

The party is in full swing, and everyone cheers when we arrive. Soon, drinks are brought around and more toasts are made. It seems like everyone in the business wants to congratulate us on our momentous wins this evening.

A few hours later, everyone is pretty drunk when April Conway suggests that we do an impromptu performance of what is officially the Song of the Year now. A piano and guitars appear as if by magic, and we sing an acoustic version of the song, followed by requests from the crowd for more of our songs. We go on to perform covers of songs from The Beatles and Elvis, through to Taylor Swift.

In the early hours of the morning, we finally leave the party, definitely looking the worse for wear. Again, we leave in a group, and I notice Ariana looking at the ground and letting her hair fall down around her face as the paparazzi snap photos of us leaving.

Once we arrive back at the hotel, everyone splits up and we all go to our own bedrooms with cheery waves at one another. Sebastian doesn’t seem bothered by the loss of Stacey; he’s picked up Tamara, an actress we met at a charity event a while back. She had a boyfriend, then, but I assume she’s single now from the way Sebastian is holding her tightly to him.

I pull Ariana roughly against me as soon as the door to the room closes behind us, and I kiss her forcefully.

“I’m sorry, I’ve wanted to do that all night,” I say roughly.

“I’ve missed you,” she says.

“I’ve missed you, too. Being near you and not being able to touch you is a special kind of torture,” I tell her, kissing her neck softly after I do.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t be sorry. Not right now.”

I take her hand and pull her toward the bedroom. When we get there, I try to unzip the dress before remembering what Ariana said about Heather sewing her into it. I find the thread and rip it before I can finally get the dress undone. I let it fall to the floor and groan at the sight of Ariana looking phenomenal in nothing but a bra.

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