Page 11 of Ticket to the Stars: Part One

Mom coughed, and Cleo worked to calm herself down. Quieter, she said, “Just tell them to stuff it, and if they don’t, that your sister will come find them while they’re sleeping and—” She glanced at our mom, and then she looked back at me as she ran a finger along her neck, telling me she’d kill them for me.

Oh, I was going to miss her.

I chuckled. “Thanks, Cleo. Good to know you have my back.” Not sure how frightened they’d be if I told them my eleven-year-old sister would hunt them down while they were sleeping, but I guess it was the thought that counted. I gave her one last hug and said, “I love you.”

Cleo quickly untangled herself from me, sniffing and turning her face away. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” She waved her hand in the air, as if telling me to go, because she didn’t want me to see her tear up.

Oh, that kid. She really was something else.

I gave them one last smile, and then I turned my back to them and headed to Ramona’s car. As I got in the front seat, I looked back at them, at my mom and my sister, the only family I knew.

They were it, and I was leaving them. I knew it’d be hard, but I didn’t expect it to tug at my heartstrings so soon. Like, before we were out of the driveway.

Ramona’s wild black hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she tossed her pitch-black eyes my way as she set her phone down in a cup holder in the center console. “Buckle up,” she said.

I did as I was told, and then she started backing up. I waved to my family until they were out of sight, the darkness of the night swallowing them up.

This was it. Everything was about to change.

After a while, Ramona broke the silence of the car by saying, “So, you and I didn’t really get much chance to talk. I didn’t want to say this in front of your mom, but Black Sacrament has been through a lot this past year. You’re probably going to get some pushback from them, but just know, no matter what they say, they are not the ones in charge of who’s in the band. They can’t kick you out or anything like that.”

Oh, boy. It didn’t even occur to me that the band members might not like my addition to their group. Having them hate me wasn’t something I’d prepared for.

“I warned them to be on their best behavior, but if they’re not—you come straight to me,” Ramona went on. “And I’ll put them in their place. Do not let any of them intimidate you, and if one of them so much as tries to come onto you, you let me know immediately.”

When I didn’t say anything to that, Ramona tossed me a glance. It was so early, we were pretty much the only ones on the road. I didn’t think we’d passed a single other car. “After what happened, Black Sacrament needs to work on their public image. I don’t want this blowing up in my face because you horny kids couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

Um, I took some offense to her lumping me in with the rest of the band. They might be horny kids to her, but she didn’t know me at all.

Quietly, I muttered, “I’ve never even kissed a boy, so I don’t think you’ll have to worry about any of that.” Not that it was any of her business. I didn’t even know why I said it.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t tell them that. In my experience, rock stars always get off on popping cherries.” When I threw her a questioning look, she added, “I’ve worked with Black Sacrament for two years now, but before them, I was with another band. They’d been around for a while. They look at me like I’m one of the guys since I’m into chicks too, so I hear everything.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so in the end, I didn’t say a word.

“But don’t worry. I’m keeping Black Sacrament on a shorter leash, especially with you.” Ramona nodded to herself. “As long as everybody can keep it in their pants, I have the feeling this will work out great.”

She didn’t have to worry about any of that. I sure as heck didn’t plan on letting any of these guys in my pants.

The hours passed. Turned out, Ramona drove like a crazy person during rush-hour traffic. A part of me feared we wouldn’t make it to our destination. There were some moments where I had to close my eyes and pray.

We didn’t go to the Redborne—where I’d be living for the foreseeable future. Not right away. We made a stop first, and that stop took about two hours. A salon, where Ramona told the stylist exactly what she wanted them to do to me.

Yeah, apparently my natural hair wasn’t good enough. It needed a cut, some layers, and some bleach. And then, after the full-head bleach, some toner.

When the stylist finished drying my hair for me and stepped out of the way, letting me look at my reflection in the mirror, my breath caught. I couldn’t mentally picture what Ramona wanted me to look like, and even though I’d seen myself in the mirror this whole time, now that my hair was dry, I stared at a reflection that looked both like me and like someone else.

My blond hair had been bleached and toned to the highest level, meaning it was white.

Yeah. White hair. I literally had white hair.

And now, with the new cut, it framed my heart-shaped face and made me look a few years older than my eighteen. I had short bangs above my eyebrows, layers around my face. My hair now ended just past my shoulders, the tips curling a bit due to how the stylist had dried it.

I hesitated to say it looked good—it did, but at the same time, it didn’t feel like me. But I guess that was the point.

Ramona paid for it, and she also bought me some purple shampoo that would apparently help keep the yellow tones from returning. I’d have to go back to the salon every few weeks to get my roots touched up, but Ramona said she’d handle the scheduling and all that.

We went to the Redborne after that. The freaking place was a skyscraper. It had a doorman who guarded the door outside, along with a valet. Ramona helped me grab my few bags and led me inside, through the revolving door and into the grand lobby.

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