She looked tired.
That was the recurring thought running through her brain as she sat statue like in the makeup chair. Lizzie, her makeup artist, was currently painting the life back into her cheeks. Two weeks of virtually sleepless nights had left her looking worse for the wear.
It was all Xavier's fault.
Well, actually, it was her fault, but it was easier to blame Xavier.
They hadn't interacted much since that night on the beach, save a few tense group meetings where she'd skillfully avoided eye contact and left as soon as possible. Other than that, she'd kept a safe distance because she was too horrified to speak.
She held in a wince as she recalled that night; the one where she'd so thoughtlessly kissed Xavier. He had reacted exactly how she should have expected: he'd pushed her away, leaving her rejected and appalled.
In retrospect, she realized her actions had been unfair to him as well. Sure, she found Xavier attractive: she wasn't blind. But in the midst of their snappy conversations and sarcastic banter, they'd developed a sort of pseudo friendship. She enjoyed spending time with him, even if he was the last person she'd ever admit it to, and although he still mystified her, she'd been quite satisfied with the state of their relationship as well.
But in a state of blind vulnerability, she'd gone and ruined that.
The worst part was that she'd felt absolutely nothing.
There was no build up to the kiss; no sizzling tension or electricity buzzing beneath the surface. He was just there. And he was being nice. He had comforted her, invited her into his warmth and she'd taken as a sign of more than platonic affection.
Lifting the corners of her lips to thank Lizzie, she realized even that wasn't the entire truth. She hadn't spent a moment thinking about Xavier's intentions. She just wanted to feel connected to someone and Xavier was convenient.
Sighing, she curled her fingers around the arms of her chair to keep from rubbing her face in frustration and smearing her makeup. Breathing deeply, she stared up at the television screen in the corner, which was currently displaying Xavier's set.
To his credit, he was doing a phenomenal job of trying to understand her thought process. He had knocked on her door many times, but as soon as she saw it was him through the peephole, she would pretend she wasn't there. In the days off between cities, she would take her private jet to her Malibu beach house. Even so, it seemed flying to the other end of the country to avoid Xavier didn't keep him from entering her thoughts.
More than anything, she was just embarrassed, a feeling that she hadn't been accustomed to in the recent years. She knew avoiding Xavier was childish, but she wasn't ready to explain why she'd felt the need to launch her body atop his – mostly because she had no idea of the reason herself.
She watched as he hummed the last notes of the song he'd written about the first girl he'd ever loved. It was sad and sweet and apologetic and she wondered if Xavier was always the one to apologize in relationships. Despite the fact that she was the one in the wrong, he had been the one to show up on her doorstep first.
He adjusted his guitar strap, shifting his weight between his legs as he smiled out at the crowd.
"Hello," he grinned, his voice echoing throughout the stadium. "How are you lovely people tonight?"
The crowd cheered in response.
"That's good to hear," he continued, "Is it alright with you guys if I try something different tonight? I want to play you something I've been working on."
This piqued Kasia's interest. Per his contract, Xavier was obligated to perform an eight song set list each night. Still, nowhere in said contract was it specified that they had to be the same eight songs. So she supposed if he wanted to scrap one for a work in progress, it would be entirely permitted.
"It's just a song about a girl I know," he said quietly as he strummed the first notes. "I hope you like it. "
As like many of his songs, it was slow and steady, allowing his deep, gravelly voice to fill the air. Kasia wondered who the song was about. She knew Xavier always wrote entirely from real life experience, but there was something extremely personal about this song. The girl it was about must have meant a lot to him.
It was sweet, in a way. The song seems to be about a girl he was worried about; a girl that needed to be saved. And she supposed people like the notion of being rescued from the chaos in her life. On some level, she could relate to the song. Sometimes she felt as though she had no control over her life whatsoever.
It was a line towards the end that caused her to freeze. He had mentioned her age, but maybe she was just being paranoid. Besides, he was also twenty-two. It made sense that he would know many women around his age.
There was no way it was about her. At least she hoped it wasn't.
She chanted this mantra of impossibility as she took the stage, allowing the adrenaline and rush of performing to distract her.
Afterwards, however, as she lay in her hotel room bed, that irritating thought crept back into her mind. Maybe it was conceit or maybe it was delusion, but she couldn't shake the feeling that those lyrics were meant for her.
She decided she would put a rest to her insane thoughts. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and marched towards Xavier's room, knocking vehemently on the door until it swung open to reveal an extremely irritated Xavier on the other side.
His lips were pulled down in a frown, his eyes tired, and his hair disheveled. She pushed past him to enter the room, pacing in front of the couch as he shot her a look of utter confusion.
"Kas, what are you doing here?" he said tiredly as he closed the door.
It was the first time they'd been alone since that night on the beach, but she was too hyped up to feel uncomfortable.
"Am I the girl in the song?" she blurted out.
He froze, his eyes clearing from confusion to understanding and although he didn't actually respond, his silence confirmed her suspicions.
"Fuck," she said under her breath, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and raking her fingers through it as she tried to make sense of the situation.
"Kas, I..."
"Is that really how you see me?" she cut him off, her gaze fiery as she lifted her eyes to meet his, repeating his lyrics back to him. "As a beautiful disaster?"
"There's not really a right way for me to answer that question, is there?" he shot back.
She disregarded the question, keeping her gaze steady and her shoulders square. "I don't need to be saved, Xavier."
"I know," he sighed in response.
"Your song said otherwise."
"My song said that I think you're a mess and you deserve to be taken care of, not that I think you need to be taken care of."
She raised an eyebrow and stayed silent, knowing that she didn't need to say anything for him to gather that she thought his excuses were complete bullshit.
Closing his eyes, he pulled his fingers through his hair and sighed as he opened them again, shaking his head. "What do you want from me, Kasia?"
She parted her lips to shoot back a snarky reply, only to find that she couldn't think of one. In truth, her objection wasn't to the song itself; it was to the fact that Xavier seemed to think she was damaged and weak. There was a great possibility that she was extremely damaged, but no one in their right mind would ever call her weak.
"I want you to stop being so damn confusing," she finally said.
"I'm confusing?" he nearly shouted back. "You're the one that kissed me and then ran away and then avoided me for two weeks."
He was right, of course. She had done those things. It had been a long time since someone had showed her genuine kindness and looking back, she realized the kiss was an act of desperation. And that it was also entirely unfair to Xavier, who she was beginning to suspect had more than strictly platonic feelings for her.
"I shouldn't have kissed you," she said quietly, the words a form of apology.
Taking a step forward, he raised his hands as though attempting to cup her cheeks, but then lowered them once more. "I'm glad you did."
"But you pushed me away," she replied, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Because that's not how I wanted it to happen."
"Wanted what to happen?"
"Us."
There was silence. She stared at him, wide eyed, wondering if perhaps she'd misheard. But his steady gaze indicated otherwise and she smiled sadly.
"There is no us, Xavier."
"I know," he sighed in frustration. "That's the problem."
"I don't understand," she said slowly. "We're barely even friends. Half the time I can't tell if you even like me."
"Of course I fucking like you," he seethed. "How could you not know that?"
Apparently her suspicions had been right, but knowing his feelings was not soothing in the slightest.
"Xavier, I'm not..."
The words that popped into her head were 'I'm not good for you', but she couldn't seem to vocalize them and ended up gaping at him awkwardly.
The truth was, Xavier was an angel. Sure, there were times where he irritated her to the brink of insanity, but he was also one of the kindest, most compassionate people she'd ever had the pleasure of knowing.
As much as she hated to admit it, she was disastrous. Her career, her tour, her music, they were all structured. She knew what she was doing and what she had to do and what she wanted to accomplish. When it came to her personal life, on the other hand, she was at a loss.
Xavier deserved better than someone who kissed him without feeling and avoided him afterwards. He deserved someone who knew what they wanted.
He let out a frustrated sigh and smiled sadly, rubbing a palm on the back of his head. "I know."
She wasn't sure how he could possibly have any idea what she was thinking, but the load of her day finally hit her and she felt an overwhelming wave of exhaustion.
"Tomorrow's going to be a long day," she said quietly. Her gaze was apologetic and she felt a weight on her heart because despite her original intentions, she had a feeling their pseudo friendship had been shattered.
He nodded, stepping to the side to allow her access to the door, calling out her name as she turned the handle and pulled it open.
She didn't turn around, but froze in the open doorway.
"Sweet dreams."
She winced at the words as she whispered them back before stepping into the hallway and shutting the door as she left.
What Xavier didn't know was that her dreams would most likely be about him.