(Maya)
"Are you okay?"
Kai's head snaps up, and whatever vulnerability I thought I saw disappears behind a wall of ice. He stands up so fast that the couch cushions bounce.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
The venom in his voice catches me off guard. "Rebecca said—"
"I don't care what Rebecca said. Get out."
I take a step back, but something about his tone pisses me off. I've spent two days being treated like furniture, and now he wants to bark orders at me?
"Look, I know you're upset about the break-in, but you don't have to be such an ass about it."
His laugh is harsh and bitter. "Upset? You think I'm upset?"
"Aren't you?"
He runs both hands through his hair, and I notice they shake slightly. "You have no idea what's going on here, Maya. None. So do me a favor and stay the fuck out of it."
"Fine." I turn toward the door. "Deal with your problems."
"Running your mouth like you aren't one of my biggest problems."
I spin around to find Kai staring at me with fury and something else I can't identify.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He laughs again, but there's no humor in it. "Come on, Maya. Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you."
My chest is getting tight, and not because of my asthma. "I'm not playing anything. You're the one who disappeared without a word, blocked me on everything, and pretended I never existed."
"I had my reasons."
"What reasons? What could I have possibly done that was so terrible you couldn't even say goodbye?"
For a second, his mask slips, and I see something raw and desperate in his eyes. Then it's gone.
"It doesn't matter now."
"It matters to me."
"Well, it shouldn't." He moves closer, and I can smell his cologne. "You should have forgotten about me a long time ago."
"Trust me, I tried."
"Try harder."
The words sting, but I'm too angry to care. "You know what? You're right. I should have forgotten about you. I should have realized that the person I thought I knew never existed."
"Maybe he didn't."
"The Kai I knew wasn't a coward."
His face goes white, then red. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me. The Kai I grew up with would never have run away from his problems. He would have faced them head-on, even if it scared him."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I? Because right now you look pretty fucking scared to me."
He takes another step closer till we're standing toe to toe. His eyes are blazing, and there's something unhinged about how he looks at me.
"I knew hiring you was a bad idea."
"What are you talking about?"
"This whole team is incompetent. If you people had done your jobs properly, none of this would have happened."
I blink, stunned. "Excuse me?"
"Security protocols exist for a reason. Someone on this team fucked up, and now my personal space has been violated by some psychotic fan."
"That's not fair. We follow all the—"
"Fair?" He scoffs. "You want to talk about fair? It's unfair that I can't have five minutes of privacy without someone breaking into my dressing room. It's not fair that I have to deal with this shit because the people I pay to protect me are too busy running off on coffee dates to do their jobs."
What the hell?
"I was off the clock."
"Were you? Because last I checked, you're always on the clock when you're on tour."
"That's ridiculous. Everyone on this crew gets personal time."
"Not when there are security concerns."
"There weren't any security concerns when I left. Everything was fine."
Kai laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Right. Everything was fine, so you decided to run off and play grab-ass with some fool."
My face burns. "It was just coffee."
"Sure it was."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I'm not an idiot, Maya. You don't dress up and put on perfume for 'just coffee' unless you're hoping it leads to something else."
"So what if it does? It's none of your business."
"It is, when it affects your work."
I stare at him, unable to believe what I'm hearing. "You think I'm unprofessional because I went on a date?"
"I think you're desperate."
The word hits me like a physical blow. "Desperate?"
"Running off to meet some stranger you barely know, throwing yourself at the first guy who shows interest. Yeah, desperate seems about right."
Something snaps inside me. Maybe it's the exhaustion or seven years of wondering what I did wrong. But suddenly I'm done being the bigger person.
"You want to know about desperate?" I step closer to him. "Fine. You're right. I did fuck him. In the bathroom at Grind, against the door, while people were having their lattes ten feet away."
Kai's face goes white, then red.
"And you know what? It was incredible. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to touch me. Made me come twice before we even got to the good part."
"Stop talking."
"Why? You brought it up. You called me desperate, so let me tell you just how desperate I am." I'm close enough now to see the muscle ticking in his jaw. "I rode him so hard the door was shaking. Had to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming."
"Maya—"
"He's texting me later tonight. You know? He wants to finish what we started. And I'm going to let him, because he actually wants me, believe it or not."
The words hang in the air between us, poisonous and sharp. Kai is breathing hard, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"You're lying."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
But the doubt is in his voice, not mine.
"Believe whatever you want. Doesn't change the fact that I'm going home tonight to someone who gives a shit about me."
He moves so fast, I don't have time to react. One second I'm standing by the door, the next I'm pressed against the wall with his body caging me in. His hands are on either side of my head, and his face is inches from mine.
"Take it back," he says, his voice low and dangerous.
"Take what back?"
"All of it. Every fucking word."
"Why? Can't handle the truth?"
His eyes drop to my mouth, and I see the exact moment he stops thinking and starts reacting. When he kisses me, it's not gentle or romantic. It's angry and desperate and full of seven years of frustration.
I should push him away. I should tell him to go to hell. Instead, I kiss him back just as hard, my hands fisting in his shirt to pull him closer.
It's everything a first kiss shouldn't be—too rough, fast, and desperate. But it's also everything I've wanted since I was seventeen and stupid enough to believe in forever.
Kai's hands slide down to my waist, pulling me against him, and I can feel how much he wants this. How much he wants me. It's intoxicating and terrifying and completely insane.
When his mouth moves to my neck, I arch against him and hear myself make a sound that's half moan, half whimper. His teeth graze my pulse point, and I'm about to lose my mind completely when reality crashes back in completely.
"Stop." I push against his chest. "Stop, we can't—"
But he's not listening. His hands are sliding under my shirt, and his mouth is doing things to my collarbone that make my knees weak.
"Kai, stop."
This time, I shove him hard enough that he stumbles backward, and the spell breaks. We stare at each other, breathing hard, looking like we've been hit by a truck.
"Maya—"
I don't let him finish. I push past him and out the door, not caring who sees me or what they think. I need air. I need space. I need to get as far away from Kai Nakamura as possible before I do something even more stupid.
The venue is still chaotic, with police, security, and crew members running around trying to restore order. I make it to the parking lot before my legs give out, and I lean against my car, trying to catch my breath.
My lips are swollen, my shirt is wrinkled, and I can still taste him on my tongue.
What the hell just happened?
I drive home in a daze, my mind replaying every second of that kiss. The way Kai looked at me was like he wanted to devour me. The way his hands felt on my skin. I responded like I'd been waiting for him to touch me my whole life. Which, let's be honest, I probably have been.
By the time I got back to the venue that evening, I had managed to convince myself that we could pretend it had never happened. We're both professionals. We can handle this like adults.
But I'm wrong.
The second I walk backstage, I can feel the tension. Crew members are whispering in corners, looking nervous. Rebecca looks like she's about to have a coronary.
"Where have you been?" she demands when she sees me.
"Home. Getting ready for tonight. What's wrong?"
"What's wrong is that our headliner has lost his goddamn mind."
As if on cue, I hear Kai's voice, sharp and angry, echoing from somewhere near the stage.
"This is absolute trash. Fix it now or find someone who can! The lighting cues are off by half a second. Half a second! Do you understand what that means for the show? Where's my guitar tech? Why is my backup guitar not tuned? How hard is it to tune a fucking guitar?!"
Every order comes out like a whip crack, and I can see people jumping to follow his commands. This isn't the usual pre-show jitters. This is something else entirely.
"He has been like this for two hours," Rebecca says. "Screaming at everyone, finding fault with everything. Jerry threatened to quit."
I spot Kai near the sound board, dressed in all black, his hair pulled back. Even from a distance, I can see the tension in his shoulders as he moves like he's ready to explode. Our eyes meet across the chaos, and for a second, everything else fades away. I see the same confusion and frustration I'm feeling reflected in his face.
Then someone asks him about the setlist, and the moment breaks. "Figure it out yourself," he snaps. "I'm not here to hold everyone's hand."
He stalks off toward his dressing room, leaving a trail of bewildered crew members in his wake.
The show that night is electric in all the wrong ways. Kai performs like a man possessed, throwing himself around the stage with an intensity that borders on violence. The crowd loves it, but those of us backstage can see the self-destruction happening in real time.
During the encore, I notice Rebecca frantically talking into his headset, looking more panicked than I've ever seen him.
"Has anyone seen Kai?" she asks, approaching our group. "He was supposed to go back out for the final song, but he's not in the wings."
We all look toward the stage, where the band is still playing, expecting him to return.
"Check his dressing room," Rebecca barks at some backup dancers.
"Already did. It's empty."
A cold dread settles in my stomach. "What do you mean, empty?"
"I mean, he's gone. No one saw him leave."
"Jesus Christ. This boy will be the end of me. AND CAN SOMEONE FUCKING FIND ME MARCUS AND JERRY?!"
One of the drummers approached us hesitantly. "Um, I think I saw him. He was wearing a hoodie and a baseball cap."
"Where?" Rebecca barks
"He pulled the hood up and walked right out through the crowd. I tried to stop him, but I would have drawn attention to him."
"He what?"
"Smart, actually. Security is looking for a rock star, not some random guy in a hoodie. He could be anywhere by now."
The next second, Rebecca is on her phone, barking orders at what sounds like a private security team. The band finishes the song without Kai, making excuses to the confused audience about technical difficulties.
"This is insane," Rebecca mutters. "Who just walks out in the middle of their show?"
Someone who's having a complete mental breakdown, I think, but don't say.
I help with the breakdown, trying to stay busy and not think about where Kai might have gone or what he might be doing. But I can't shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen.
I'm loading equipment when my phone buzzes with a text from Jake: Hey, I'm sorry I didn't text you earlier. My sister is a handful. Listen, can we give this another try? I really like you and would hate myself if I gave up so easily.
I'm contemplating whether to respond now or later when he drops another text:
Hey, this might sound weird, but I think I'm being followed.
My blood turns cold. I reply, What do you mean?
A guy in a dark green cardigan has been keeping the same distance behind me for six blocks. When I turned around to look, he ducked into an alley.
Dark green cardigan. I close my eyes and try to remember. Earlier today, in Kai's dressing room, there was a cardigan hanging on the back of a chair. Dark green wool, expensive-looking.
Are you okay? I text back.
Yeah, I'm home now. Probably just paranoid. So, do I have another chance?
I stare at the message, my heart racing. This is just a coincidence. It has to be.
Sure. Be safe.
But I can't stop thinking about that cardigan or how Kai looked when he kissed me. Desperate, possessive, and completely unhinged.
I barely slept that night, tossing and turning with anxiety. Every time I close my eyes, I see Kai's face when I lied about Jake. The fury, the jealousy, the barely controlled crashout.
At six AM, my phone starts ringing. It's Chloe, and she's crying.
"Maya, oh my god, have you seen the news?"
"What news? Chloe, what's wrong?"
"It's Jake. He's… oh god, Maya, he's dead. Someone killed him in his apartment last night."
The phone slips from my numb fingers, clattering to the floor.
Dead.
Jake is dead, and I may know who did it.