I know I always wanted to be famous. The phrase be careful what you wish for has never seemed more appropriate. But I never wanted this. I never wanted complete strangers coming up to me on the street and calling me a 'sell out' because I jumped at the chance to play for thousands. I never wanted people hating us when they don't even know us. And I never, ever wanted to hurt my friends.
Freddy's dug himself deeper into the drug scene. He got into it when he started going out with some Canadian girl that he was head over heels for, and got further into it when said girl dumped him for some red-haired up-and-coming young actor. He was heartbroken and turned to the drugs that she'd introduced him to. He's slipped into a downward spiral and no one seems to be able to lift him out of it.
Lawrence, poor Lawrence, refuses to face the world. All Lawrence wants is to like people, and for people to like him. He's not attention seeking or selfish – he's too pure to be selfish – but he's just too... nice. And now people hate him, and he can't understand why, so he blames himself. It hurts him so much when people launch vicious attacks. The rest of us try to laugh it off, but Lawrence takes it all personally. He always was too nice for the music biz.
Summer's got herself in with a bunch of 'famous friends'. If they've been in the paper at least once, then Summer will know their names and numbers. By far the most well known of the band – and don't get me wrong, five times as many people love us as hate us, but Summer's always making the headlines. She never talks to us anymore, never sees us anymore – she only has time for her new friends. If I wasn't one of her closest friends and I saw her in the paper then I'd call her 'attention seeking' without a second thought, but I know from experience that judging people you don't know can only be a bad thing. And who knows? Maybe she genuinely likes them for who they are.
Then again, maybe not.
And then there's me. Zack calls me pessimistic, but I just tell him that I see the truth. I don't want to be here. I want to be a positive role model, but my dream has turned into my nightmare. I care about the music. I care about saving lives. I care about making a difference to people, just like my favorite bands made a difference to me. But all the letters I seem to get are telling me the exact opposite.
"When did all this happen?" I mumble aloud, burying my head in my hands. I'm sat in a dark hotel corridor somewhere, my back against the wall and my knees against my chest, dark hair falling over my face and into my eyes. "When did it all go wrong?"
I feel a reassuring hand on my back and know who it is without even looking up; Zack. Who else would it be? Who else cares? "Katie... it's all right."
His words strike a chord, and I sit up straight and glare at him. "No! It's not all right! Every single one of my band members is slowly killing themselves in one way or another, and that's if you can even call us a band anymore!"
"Katie--"
"You don't get it! I want to be somewhere where people who aren't you call me Katie, and not Posh Spice! It's not even original!"
"This is a part of fame," Zack says gently, slipping his arm around my shoulders and drawing me close. "I know you didn't want all this, but things are going to change. You can't save everyone, as much as you'd like to. And you've already saved lots of people. You don't notice it, but people look up to you, Katie. Thousands of people respect you and what you're trying to do. Besides, one thing that won't change is that you'll always have me."
I suddenly pick up on his last sentence, and it seems to me as though there's more to it than that. Zack has never been one to waste words, and he never says something unless he means it. Suddenly intrigued, I catch his eye. "Zack, what... what did you say?"
He stands up, very interested in his shoes, and I think I can detect a faint blush on his cheeks. Or am I just imagining it? "Nothing," he mutters, fiddling with his necklace – a guitar pick on a delicate silver chain.
I stand up, too, not wanting to take 'no' for an answer. I need to know this. It's important to me. I step closer to him and gaze at him intently. "No – please – what did you say?"
"I said you'd always have me," he mumbles, stumbling over the words and refusing to look me in the eye.
"Zack..." I'm over come with emotion; the events of the past few months are building up and a few tears slip out. "Do you really mean it?" I hardly dare ask, unsure of whether I want to hear the answer, but Zack doesn't disappoint, just nods shyly.
"Friends forever, remember?" he whispers. I know I'm going to break down any minute now, but I manage to choke out another few words. Everything now depends on his reply to my next question.
"More than friends?" Maybe I'm risking my entire friendship, one of the only things I have left, but I stand to gain something special. The tears come flooding out now, my whole body shaking, and Zack wraps me in a warm hug which is all the answer I need.
"I can't stand to see you cry..."
At least one good thing has come out of all this and, as Zack wipes the tears away from my eyes with his rough guitar player's thumb, our lips meet. I'm trembling, about to melt, and I know what I've been too blind to see all along.
"I love you," he tells me softly, getting there first, and I smile.
"I love you, too," I reply.
We both speak at the same time and, although my mind is screaming cliché, my heart is whispering perfect.
"I always have."