Chapter One
February 2nd, 2025 — Grammy Morning
The first thing I heard when I woke up was rain hitting the glass balcony doors.
Soft. Steady. Familiar.
For a second, I forgot where I was.
Then the anxiety hit.
"Shit."
I sat straight up in the massive hotel bed, blonde hair tangled around my face while my phone buzzed violently on the nightstand.
Maya Calling.
My manager.
I groaned and answered. "Please tell me the Grammys got canceled."
"You're hilarious," she deadpanned. "You're due downstairs in thirty minutes."
I looked around the luxury hotel suite in downtown Los Angeles. Designer dresses hung from racks near the wall. Makeup products covered every surface. Garment bags. Shoes. Jewelry.
A Grammy nominee's dream.
Or nightmare.
Depends on the day.
I rubbed my face and stared at the ceiling.
Tonight I was performing in front of millions of people.
Not just any performance either.
I was opening with Him and Make Me before debuting a brand-new song from my upcoming album.
Last Breath.
The song nobody had heard yet.
The song I wrote at three in the morning after realizing I was hopelessly in love with my best friend.
The song that was absolutely, definitely not about him.
...Even though everyone would know it was.
I dragged myself out of bed and walked toward the balcony doors, opening them just enough to let the cold February air hit my skin.
Los Angeles looked gray today.
Rainy.
The city lights blurred together beneath the storm clouds.
I loved it.
Maybe because it reminded me of Ohio.
Groveport felt a million miles away now.
Back then, I was just a girl sitting on her bedroom floor posting shaky song covers online because I had no idea what else to do with my life. I never expected people to actually listen.
But they did.
First thousands.
Then millions.
Then suddenly my first album, History, exploded in 2015 and everything changed overnight.
Tours. Interviews. Awards.
People screaming my lyrics back at me.
And somehow through all of it...
I met him.
Colson Baker.
Machine Gun Kelly.
The world knew him as chaos wrapped in tattoos and heartbreak.
But I knew him as the guy who stayed up until four in the morning helping me write melodies on my apartment floor.
The guy who brought me coffee during studio sessions because he knew I forgot to eat.
