The Mixtape - Brittainy C. Cherry Page 0,3

don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Perform all the time.” She was putting on an act in front of those people to appear light and playful, but in turn, she was throwing me under the bus, just like Alex said.

Cam’s eyes locked with mine and a flash of disgust flew across her face before she recovered and gave me a fake smile and softly spoke back. “I’m not performing. I’m networking, Oliver.”

There she is.

The woman I no longer knew. The side of Cam that I didn’t like very much. Each day I longed a little more for the Cam she used to be.

Come back to me.

I didn’t say another word, because I knew getting through to her while she was in character wasn’t going to work. The men had smirks on their faces as I turned to walk away from the three of them. I didn’t bother saying goodbye. Fuck them and their smart-ass smirks. All I knew was, when Cam came home that night, she was coming home to me.

Walking through the crowd of sardines, I kept my head lowered, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone in hopes of avoiding any kind of social interaction. My brain had reached its limit of engaging, and I simply needed my driver to meet me outside to take me home.

I shot my way to coat check and muttered a thank-you as the guy handed me my jacket. Then I headed to the front of the building, where paparazzi had been waiting all night on the left, behind barriers, for a chance to get a shot of any and every celebrity leaving the club.

“Oliver! Oliver! Over here! You came with Cam! Is there trouble in paradise?”

“Why isn’t Cam leaving with you?”

“Is it true you two have been secretly dating for years?”

“Why lie about your relationship? Were you ashamed of her?”

And that was exactly why I didn’t want those assholes in my business.

Instead of engaging with them, I turned to my right, where another barricade was set up. Behind the barricade were the people I truly cared about. The fans.

Even though I was exhausted and had mentally checked out, I headed over to them and smiled. I’d spend as much time as I could taking pictures with the fans, because without them, Alex and I wouldn’t even have an album-release party to be celebrating.

“Hey there, how’s it going?” I asked, smirking toward a young girl. She couldn’t have been over eighteen, and she held a sign up that said OLIVE4LIFE.

“Oh my gosh,” she muttered, her colorful braces spreading into a wide-toothed grin. Her eyes flooded with tears as her body trembled. I placed my hand against her shaky hand.

If it weren’t for her friends holding her up, I was sure she was going to collapse to the ground.

“Y-you’re my h-h-h-ero,” she spat out, making me smile.

“You’re mine too. What’s your name?”

“Adya.” The tears began flowing down her cheeks, and I wiped them away for her. “You d-don’t understand,” she stuttered, shaking her head. “Your music helped me through my depression. I w-was bullied a lot and wanted to e-end my life, but your music was there for me. You saved me.”

Fucking A.

Don’t cry, Oliver. Don’t you dare fucking cry.

I squeezed her hand and leaned in close. “If only you knew how much you’ve saved me, too, Adya.”

She was why I did it. Her along with all the others who showed up and showed out for Alex & Oliver. Fuck the paparazzi. I showed up for the fans, because they always showed up for me.

“Taking photos without me?” Alex chimed in, patting me on the back. He had his jacket in his hand, as if he was leaving too.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I got tired.” Alex glanced down at his watch.

“That’s a lie.” Alex was always one of the last ones to leave a party.

He smirked. “Kelly texted me saying she was hungry. I figured I’d bring her some chicken noodle soup, since she wasn’t feeling good.”

Now, that made sense. Kelly was my assistant, and Alex was like a lovesick puppy about her. She was currently staying in my coach house while her loft was being renovated. Therefore, it seemed that Alex was around my place a lot more than normal—and he definitely wasn’t visiting me. “Figured I could catch a ride with you,” he said, nudging me. “After a few more pics with these guys.”

I always had a feeling that the two of them had a connection, and it wasn’t

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