“I mean the complete and utter lack of honor, underpinned by the belief that winning is acceptable at all and any costs.”

“Oh. That kind of advantage.”

“I send the money I earn in this position home to my family, and my family is able to maintain the rents they must pay in order to continue to occupy our ancestral homes. The Scowl family possesses the title.”

“Wait. So Simon is your mom’s landlord? And you have to work for him, or your whole family gets kicked out?”

“Yes.”

“That’s bullshit,” I frown. It upsets me greatly to hear that a creature like Zayne is reduced to looking after me basically at the risk of his entire family becoming homeless. It makes me feel ungrateful, and spoiled, two things I always prided myself on absolutely not being. Maybe it doesn’t take as much as I thought to stop being grateful. Maybe becoming spoiled is more insidious and inevitable than I thought possible.

“We have to do something about that,” I tell him. “We have to buy your family’s home back.”

“I have no reason to believe it will ever be for sale.”

“I’m going to make a lot of money, though. I could make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

“That’s a sweet idea,” Zayne says indulgently. “But you can’t do that.”

“I can, and I will.”

“Have you read your contract yet?”

“Not down to the nitty gritty details, maybe not.”

He sighs. “You will be left with very little after the tour is over. All costs come out of your cut, including this very expensive hospitalization. Most starlets finish their tours with a small amount of money and perhaps a home. In your case, given the absolute chaos that has been left in your wake, and the interest payments that will inevitably be applied to your costs, it is possible that you could finish your three year obligation and be just as in debt to Simon as I am.”

“No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way,” he says. “Simon knows how to pick people who won’t read the contract. He knows people assume that trillions of new fans will translate to riches beyond their wildest dreams. But that’s not how the universe really works.”

I don’t want to think about that anymore. I don’t want to do anything besides finally feel better.

“Please,” I whisper. “Fuck me.”

“You’re wounded. You’re drugged.”

“I’m mended, and I’m not drugged. I need you, Zayne.”

“You’ve got me. You’ll always have me,” he reassures me. But that can’t be true. At the end of my contract, he will go on to protect someone else, and I’ll go on to be broke.

“I can’t even have you now,” I moan sadly. “How can I possibly hope for later.”

Zayne

She’s cute when she’s sorry. And she’s absolutely adorable right now. I am enjoying holding her, and though of course Iwould love to be inside her, I don’t want to take advantage of her incredible vulnerability right now.

I’ve not told any of my charges about the plight of my family before. This woman has caused me to be more open than I ever imagined I would be, and I suspect it is because she is so very real with me. From the beginning, she has been unapologetically and at times maddeningly herself. I have never come in contact with the shell so many starlets use to keep themselves separate from everybody around them. Lyric is wild, but she is real.

She snuggles closer, and feelings of supreme tenderness wash through me. I tighten my arms and wrap my tail around her snugly and keep her pressed up against my body until she falls asleep…

“You’ll have to leave me when my contract is up.”

Not so asleep after all, I suppose.

“Don’t worry about that,” I tell her, mostly because I do not want to worry about that right now. I just want to be here with her. I want to enjoy this time, this little oasis of intimacy between the constant grind of shows and marketing.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” she mumbles against my neck. “I don’t want to lose you.”