The text conversation was the last meaningful interaction the group had with Cat for a while. And every worry they had for her grew worse and worse over the next few months. The speed of her career seemed to hit an unstoppable stride—her third album dominated the charts, every single a colossal success. Her label, eager to strike while the iron was hot, announced a tour mere weeks after the album's release. The turnaround was lightning-fast, almost too fast, even for someone like Cat, who they always pushed on keeping busy.
Her shows were massive, somehow even larger than her previous tour, with production value that bordered on excessive. The stages were bigger, the pyrotechnics brighter, the choreography more intense. It was a spectacle, designed to dazzle, but for those who knew her, it felt hollow.
Jade felt a deep unease every time she saw Cat onstage. It wasn't just the footage from concerts or the inevitable paparazzi shots; it was everything. Cat's performances were flawless in every technical sense—she hit every note, her choreography was impeccable—but there was something off. It wasn't just fatigue like the start of her tour last time; it was more than that. She was thinner than ever, her makeup doing little to conceal the deep circles under her eyes, the kind of exhaustion that came from something deeper than just lack of sleep.
At first, Jade feared the worst—that Cat had fallen back into something even worse than stimulants. But it wasn't that. Cat didn't look like someone spiraling into addiction. No, this was different. She was thinner, but it wasn't the gaunt, unhealthy kind of thin that came from hard drugs—it was the kind of thin that came from a body pushed too hard, denied too much.
Her body, once full of life and energy, now looked skeletal in a way that made Jade's stomach churn. Cat had always been relatively slender, but now it was as if the energy she once used to shine through her every move had been siphoned away. Her muscles were still there, but they were tense, overworked—toned, yes, but too tightly wound. It was a kind of exhaustion that didn't come from a late night or a bad show—it came from pushing your body beyond its limits, and still asking for more.
This tour—it looked so similar to the last one, and yet so different. Jade had watched from the sidelines as Cat's life seemed to unravel last time, but this time it was worse. Before, it had been the glimmers of exhaustion, the signs of burnout. Now, it was something else.
"She looks like a ghost," Jade muttered one night, staring at her phone at Ryan's apartment.
Ryan looked up from the script he was reading, raising an eyebrow. "What?"
"Cat," Jade said, tossing her phone onto the table. "Have you seen her lately? She's… she doesn't look good."
Ryan gave a noncommittal shrug. "You've been saying that for weeks."
Jade sighed, leaning back against the couch. She didn't know why she kept bringing it up. It wasn't like there was anything she could do. She'd tried, once. And they'd both walked away hurt.
But still, every time she saw Cat's face plastered across her screen, a part of her wanted to scream.
Jade couldn't sit with the feeling anymore. She tossed her phone aside and grabbed her keys, muttering something about needing air. Ryan offered a questioning glance but didn't press her. Jade drove without a destination in mind, her frustration bubbling over into sharp turns and too-fast accelerations. Before she realised it, she was at Tori's house, banging on the door like a woman on a mission.
Tori opened it, her face creased in concern. "Jade? Are you okay?"
"No," Jade said, brushing past her and into the living room. "We need to do something about Cat."
Tori blinked, caught off guard by Jade's sudden burst of energy. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, have you seen her lately? She looks terrible. This tour—it's killing her. And Austin—don't even get me started on him. We can't just sit here and watch her implode again."
Tori sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "You think I don't know that? I've been worried too. But what can we do, Jade? Every time we try to help, she just shuts us out."
Jade's jaw tightened. "We have to try. No matter how much she pushes us away, we have to at least try. If we don't…" She trailed off, the weight of the unspoken consequences hanging heavy in the air.
Tori studied her for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Let's do it. What's the plan?"
Jade didn't hesitate. She pulled out her phone and dialed Cat's number.
To her surprise, Cat answered almost immediately. "Jade?" Her voice was bright, though laced with surprise. "Wow, I didn't expect to hear from you."
"Hey," Jade said, her voice softening despite herself. "Tori and I were talking. We want to come see your show in Florida tomorrow. Thought it'd be... fun to catch up."
There was a beat of silence, and then Cat's voice came through, trembling with emotion. "Really? You want to come? I—I thought you all hated me."
Jade's heart twisted. "What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?"
"I don't know," Cat said, her voice small. "I just… I haven't heard from you guys in forever. I figured you were all done with me."
Tori, who was sitting beside Jade now, leaned closer to the phone. "Cat, we tried messaging you weeks ago. Didn't you get any of our texts?"
"No," Cat said, confusion creeping into her tone. "I didn't see anything. My phone's been acting weird, or maybe Austin…" She trailed off, as if catching herself. "But it doesn't matter. You're coming to Florida? Really?"
"Really," Jade confirmed. "We'll book the flights now."
Cat let out a breathless laugh. "This is the best news I've gotten in weeks. I've missed you guys so much."
Jade felt a flicker of relief at the genuine joy in Cat's voice. "We've missed you too. We'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay," Cat said, her voice bright. "Thank you, Jade. And tell Tori thank you too. This… this means a lot."
As the call ended, Jade looked at Tori, who was already pulling out her laptop to book the tickets.
"Well," Tori said with a determined smile. "I should probably pack."