Page 1 of Wicked Rockstar

Chapter One

TRISSA

Where was he?

The harsh fluorescent lights of the television studio buzzed overhead, matching the constant hum of anxiety in my chest. I glanced at my watch again. The delicate fairy wings tattoo peeking out from under the face on my wrist shimmered in the brightness from above.

“Ms. Byrd?” A harried-looking production assistant approached, tablet in hand. “We’re set to go live in thirty-five minutes. Is Mr. Young on his way?” Her cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink as she spoke the name of my boss.

I forced a smile. Years of practice allowed me to keep my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. “He’s just running a bit behind. You know how traffic can be in the city. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

The lie rolled off my tongue with ease. I hated how effective I’d become at making excuses for Peter. The PA nodded, though I registered the doubt in her observant hazel eyes. She probably heard excuses like this all the time.

As she walked away, I pinched the bridge of my nose and reached into my fanny pack for the bottles of antacids andibuprofen I kept there for days like these. After gulping them down I pulled out my phone and dialed Peter. Panic snaked through me as sweat beaded my brow. I’d already called Peter multiple times, so it was no surprise when I was once again greeted by his voicemail. Knowing him as well as I did, for as long as I did, his phone wasn’t even charged.

I made a mental note to set a reminder for him to make sure it was charging when we weren’t together.Again.

Next I dialed Leo, Peter’s driver and official bodyguard.

“Any luck?” I asked. I didn’t bother saying hello, not that Leo cared.

His response came almost immediately. “I just got into the house. This place is a mess.” Leo swore colorfully following his statement. That couldn’t be good. “Don’t worry, Tris, I’ll get him out the door.”

Peter was going to blow his last chance. And if he did, he’d take me and his band, The Lost Boys, down with him.

Needing to calm the anxiety coursing through me, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten.

It didn’t help. Disappearing, not answering his phone, leaving his place a mess—this wasn’t the Peter I’d known practically my whole life. Something was really wrong. He’d been off for months.

Yet even with the worry, the urge to scream in frustration overwhelmed me. My vision grew blurry, and the sounds of a bustling studio rang in my ears.

Fire heated my chest, spiraling outward and up. There was the rage I’d been expecting. An emotion I’d refused to allow to surface much over the years that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

It had taken time and intention, but I’d learned to control the temper that flared at will in my youth—or perhaps I’d shoved it down so far I’d forgotten where to find it. As Peter’s assistant, Ineeded to be professional, especially on the days he wasn’t, and I’d learned the hard way that my anger didn’t help to motivate Peter.

My face flamed with heat, and I knew my cheeks were bright red against my fair skin. He promised me he’d be here on time today. That he wouldn’t disappoint me. So I knew he’d make it. He had to. He just might need a little help.

I cringed with each quicktaptap tapof heels hitting the floor; the clear and familiar warning that the head producer of the morning talk show was closing in on me. Again.

“Everything alright, Ms. Byrd?” The stern-looking woman in her fifties asked, her tone demanding an answer.

I inhaled slowly and let my breath out as I turned to face her. The second our eyes met, the cool, professional mask I’d perfected over the years stole across my face. It was likely the same one I’d given her earlier. I forced the corner of my lips into the pleasant smile I’d curated, which projected warmth and understanding and made me appear approachable.

I’d smoothed many ruffled feathers with this smile as I protected Peter’s brand.

“Ms. Halliway.” I figured the less information I offered, the better. “Everything is perfect. Just checking in with Mr. Young’s security team. You can never be too careful these days.”

“We appreciate that, but I need to know now if he’s going to make it. We have a schedule to keep and an audience that is expecting him. If we need to adjust the lineup… ” Her shrewd gaze flicked over me.

“That won’t be necessary,” I assured her, my heart pounding. “He’ll be here. Peter’s very excited about this appearance.”

This show was to kick-off Peter’s newly signed contract with VS Music Production. We’d slowly transitioned over the past few months from our old recording label. One of the CEOs, Jareth Vizier, informed me in no uncertain terms that Peter neededto be at this interview. The rumors about his ruthlessness were legendary, and I had no intention of me or Peter getting on his bad side.

When she walked away, I ducked into a quiet corner and called Leo again. “Please tell me you have good news.” I leaned against the wall, my head thunked as I dropped it back. The rough brick caught and tugged at strands of my fine blonde hair. A small part of me worried my sophisticated top-knot was unraveling, but I didn’t have time to dwell on my hair when I had bigger issues to deal with.

“It’s bad,” Leo’s gruff voice came through the speaker. “He’s passed out cold.”

I closed my eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over. “Do whatever it takes to get him here.”

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