My mind kept betraying me by wandering back to Oliver, the man who’d destroyed my fantasies. In a way, he’d been such a big part of my life growing up. A huge part of my sister’s story too. His music is what got Sammie and me through our parents’ strict rules. We’d sit in our bedroom, listening to the songs quietly with our earbuds in, because as Mama often said, “Satan’s music does not belong in a house of God.”

Just to be clear, any music that wasn’t Mama approved was Satan’s work.

Did people really get to listen to One Direction growing up? I sure didn’t.

Mama said the only direction those boys were going was down to the devil’s cave.

Growing up and listening to Alex & Oliver’s music was our dirty little secret. They were the key to our strong sisterly bond. So, to face the reality of who Oliver was nowadays, versus the person I’d thought him to be when Sammie and I met him years ago, was such an emotional whirlwind. I didn’t know how to feel about Oliver being the complete opposite of the person who’d made my sister smile all those years ago. Those smiles were the last ones I remembered ever getting from her.

I wanted to believe that the man I’d seen was a big departure from who Oliver really was deep to his core. I wanted to believe that he was just temporarily damaged, and not forever this way. I wanted to believe that somewhere within him lived the man who’d written the words that had saved me time and time again.

I craved the idea that he was still my hero, and not just a fallen star who’d burned out his light. Yet I knew there was going to be no way to prove his truths. We’d probably never cross paths again. The worst feeling in the world was coming to the realization that your idols were merely human themselves.

When I headed into Seven, still thinking about Oliver, I was completely thrown off.

“You’re fired,” Joey barked out as I walked into the bar through the back entrance. A group of paparazzi was outside the building, wanting to get an exclusive. They stood around like psychopaths waiting to attack. Joey hadn’t even unlocked the front door yet, which seemed odd. It should’ve been opened for business hours ago.

“What?” A knot formed in my gut as I stood there, flabbergasted by his words.

He crossed his arms and nodded toward me. “I said you’re fired.”

“Joey, why . . .” I blinked, trying to get rid of the panic and turmoil that were rising up within me. Numbers started formulating in my head, bills skyrocketed across my mind, the struggles that I’d face without working at Seven. I was already struggling with the job. I couldn’t imagine the hardships without it. “I . . . I can’t lose this job. I can’t.”

“But you did. I’ve been here all day cleaning up the mess you made, and counting up the register, trying to make ends meet, and do you know what? Ends don’t freaking meet because you pushed dozens and dozens of drunk people out of the bar without closing their tabs! When whatever went down, people stole bottles from behind the counter. And you gave a top-shelf bottle of whiskey to some celebrity who you didn’t charge.”

“I can cover the costs . . . ,” I said, my voice becoming shaky.

“Oh, trust me, you already are. I took your check from the past week and am using that to recoup some of what has been lost. Outside of that, we’ll call it even. You can go now.”

My body shook at his words, because I couldn’t walk out of that bar without my check in hand. I couldn’t face Ed without actual cold hard cash to hand over to him. I knew if I showed up without a check to give him that evening, I’d be kicked out in an instant.

“No, no, no. You don’t understand, Joey. That check . . . that’s my rent, and it’s due today. It was due a week ago, actually. Please, you can’t do this.”

“I can, and I did. Now go!” he barked, pointing toward the exit.

I wanted to keep arguing with him. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg for him to reconsider, but I’d known Joey long enough to know that he was stubborn in his ways, and it was almost impossible to change his mind. Besides, I’d seen him fire people for far less than what I’d done.

The tears kept rising to the corners of my eyes, but I tried my best to keep them locked in tightly. I didn’t want to fall apart in front of Joey. I didn’t cry in front of people. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had witnessed me losing control. I kept my sadness and emotional breakdowns to myself, in private, where no one could try to give me comfort. I didn’t want people’s pity; I just wanted to be strong enough to keep myself from falling apart.