A Few Hours Later
Ethan sat slumped in his seat on the tour bus, feeling like he had barely escaped the gates of hell. His T-shirt was long gone, sacrificed to the firestorm that had erupted inside him. His mouth was numb, his tongue felt like it had been doused in lava, and he was sweating so much he was convinced he had lost half his body weight. His eyes were bloodshot, tears pooling at the corners. He had survived every other ridiculous question, dodging landmines with the skill of a seasoned escape artist, but the final question had been the ultimate betrayal.
They had asked him to choose between his two closest friends in the industry—his mentors, the legends, the GOATs. Who was his favorite artist: Taylor Swift or Eminem?
He had refused to answer. There was no way he was picking sides in a battle that would cause a full-scale internet meltdown. So, he did the smart thing—he opted out.
Big mistake.
He had thought he'd get away with picking a mild hot wing as punishment. Just one more harmless bite, and he'd be free. But no. The universe wasn't done tormenting him. His innocent fingers had reached right into the box of doom and pulled out the spiciest, deadliest wing on the menu—the Carolina Reaper.
"You guys are evil," he groaned, looking up weakly at the three women standing before him, arms crossed, faces filled with varying degrees of amusement.
Jessica, his label's team head, Rebecca, his PR manager, and Bella—his number one superfan-turned-assistant. If his agent Bill had been there, the entire Ethan Jones survival squad would be complete. But, of course, Bill had conveniently vanished, claiming he had "important work" to do.
Ethan was currently fighting for his life, and these three had the audacity to just stand there, watching his suffering like it was prime-time entertainment.
Bella, the only one who seemed to have a soul, stepped forward, holding out an ice-cold bottle of water. "Here, Ethan. Have some water."
Ethan's shaking hands grabbed the bottle like a lifeline. "Thank you, Bella," he rasped dramatically, looking at her like she was his last hope. Then, with a pitiful smile, he added, "Unlike these two traitors, you're the only one who actually cares about me. I'm so glad to have you on the team."
Bella giggled, looking proud of herself.
Rebecca, however, just scoffed. "Oh, really? Only her? What about me, the one who single-handedly saved your reputation yesterday? You do remember the two extra videos you drunkenly posted after that first disaster, right? The ones I had to delete before they made everything ten times worse?"
Ethan winced. Oh. Right. That.
Rebecca wasn't done. "And let's not forget Jessica, who was out there all night smoothing things over with the venue manager when they almost canceled your next show because of your little disappearing act. If it weren't for her, you wouldn't even have a concert tomorrow."
Ethan shrank into his seat. Now he felt worse than his burning tongue.
And then Rebecca delivered the final blow.
"Oh, and just so you know," she added, her eyes gleaming with evil delight, "your beloved, precious, so-called number one superfan, the one who 'truly cares' about you? Yeah, she was the mastermind behind the entire 'Hot Wings Confessions' idea."
"WHAT?!" Ethan's head snapped toward Bella, who immediately shrieked.
"AHHH! Rebecca!" Bella wailed, literally grabbing onto Rebecca's arm like a child. "You PROMISED not to tell him!"
Rebecca just grinned as she let Bella drag her away, cackling like a villain in a soap opera.
Ethan sat there, stunned, watching his own betrayal play out before his eyes. Then, slowly, he turned to Jessica, the only one left standing.
She wasn't even looking at him. Arms folded, eyes forward, completely unbothered. Ethan sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. He was an idiot. He had been reckless, taking everything for granted. The truth was, he was holding something millions of people would kill for, and he had nearly thrown it all away.
If he had missed the show, the fallout would have been catastrophic. Fans would have been furious, ticket refunds would have cost a fortune, and the label would have been breathing down Jessica's neck, blaming her for his irresponsibility. The venue would have blacklisted him, tour sponsors would have started pulling out, and media outlets would have had a field day ripping him apart. And for what? Because he had been too caught up in his own nonsense to take things seriously?
He took a deep breath, looked at Jessica, and finally said, "Hey, Jessica…"
He spoke, his voice weak and filled with regret. "I get why you guys did that interview, and I'm really sorry for yesterday. I didn't know it would take that long," he continued, his tone sincere, almost apologetic. "Not that I'm trying to make excuses," he quickly added, hoping to emphasize his genuine regret.
As he finished, he looked up, only to see Jessica staring at him with a blank expression. Ethan noticed her lack of reaction and tried again, calling out, "Hey, Jessica."
Jessica seemed startled by the sudden attention, as if her mind had been elsewhere. She looked around, clearly deep in thought, before she stood up and replied, "Oh, hey, what's wrong?"
Ethan noticed the delay in her response and realized she hadn't heard any of the apology he had just delivered. With a deep breath, he said, "Well, it's about the whole interview, about how I understand and how sorry I am for what happened yesterday."
Before he could continue, Jessica cut him off. "Oh, about all that—don't worry," she said, waving him off. "I had no part in that interview. It was the girls who wanted to get back at you for what they went through yesterday. As for me, I get it. I can't fault you for wanting to have fun, especially with the situation you were in. But yes, I would need you to be more self-aware moving forward. A lot is at stake."
Her words hit Ethan hard, deflating his mood once again. He listened intently as she continued. "But you can't be blamed for everything that happened yesterday," she said, causing him to look up at her, still unsure of where this conversation was going.
"The way you've been growing in fame so quickly, we haven't really caught up with that. Your team is severely lacking." Jessica's words seemed to strike a chord, and Ethan couldn't help but mutter a quiet, "Eh?"
Before he could process what she said, Jessica carried on. "Normally, it takes years to get to where you are now in the industry, so I thought what we were doing was adequate. But it seems even I underestimated you. You need a personal assistant, especially since Rebecca can't be doing that along with her PR job. And not just that—you need a security team, a creative team, and a stylist. The clothes you wore for the Super Bowl? They looked like a costume. We can't have that." She paused, letting the words sink in, before adding, "Also, seeing as you have free time on your hands, we should host more fan meet-and-greets, autograph sessions, and all that. It'll really help you connect with the fans."
Jessica's list of demands kept coming, and Ethan found himself feeling lost. He had only wanted to apologize, but now he was hearing about personal assistants, stylists, and fan events. His mind reeled as Rebecca chimed in.
"Yes, especially the assistant. If we had one, that lemon video would never have happened," Rebecca said, adding fuel to the fire.
Jessica nodded in agreement. "Oh, yes, that's true. What were you even thinking? Do you realize how crazy that video was? When I get back, I'll have to contact Billie's team so we can figure out how to spin this." She paused, running a hand through her hair as she continued. "Maybe because of your songs and the way you handle your interviews, the public sees you with this pure, naive image. And it's working. But at least until the tour finishes, we can't afford to ruin that."
Ethan's head spun as he tried to keep up. What was happening? He had come to apologize, but now he was being hit with a full list of things to do. "And that video," Jessica continued, "totally throws all that away." She placed a hand on her head, clearly frustrated.
Rebecca said, "And thanks to the interview, we have to stick with that Uno story now." She looked at Ethan with a raised eyebrow. "By the way, really, dude? Uno? You couldn't think of something better?"
Ethan, feeling the injustice of it all, responded, "I'm telling the truth! We were playing Uno." But as he saw the skeptical looks from all three of them, he felt his credibility slipping away.
"I'm serious! Her brother was even there! Nothing happened!" he added, trying to convince them, but the blank expressions on their faces told him that they weren't buying it.
Rebecca turned to Jessica, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "I like how he does it with those reactions. We can spin it that way. We just need to get Billie to cooperate with the story."
Jessica nodded, deep in thought. "Yeah, I'll talk to her team when I get back. I need to pick his remaining team members anyway. Just make sure he keeps this energy when saying it."
Ethan, shaking his head in disbelief, muttered, "You guys are unbelievable." He grabbed his T-shirt from the chair. "I need to get some fresh air. I can't with you people."
As he stood up and put his shirt on, he heard Bella from across the room. "I believe you," she said quietly.
Ethan just shook his head again, feeling like he was losing the battle, but grateful for Bella's support. He grabbed his phone off the table, ready to escape for a bit.
As he walked away, he noticed Rebecca and Jessica already deep in conversation, probably planning how they would handle this mess. He was too exhausted to pay much attention. Still, his throat felt like it was on fire. "Hey, can someone pass me some water? My throat's burning," he asked as he walked toward the door, slipping his T-shirt fully on.
He heard a ding from his phone and opened it. He saw the message from Billie.
I had a great time with you last night. Also Leaving me all alone in the moring was foul i was looking for you when i woke up
P.S My back aches thanks to you
Just as he was about to process the message, Rebecca called out, "Here! Catch!"
Ethan turned around just in time to see a water bottle flying toward him. "Ooo ooo ooo!" he shouted, his free hand reaching up to catch it, but his phone slipped out of his other hand and fell to the ground with a soft thud.
"Rebecca! What's wrong with you?!" Ethan groaned, bending down to pick up his phone. "Why'd you throw it? My phone fell cause of you!"
He straightened up, about to step outside, but then his world tilted. Standing right in front of him, holding his phone, was none other than Sydney Sweeney.
His eyes widened in shock. He hadn't even seen her walk up, but there she was, holding his phone. She looked up from the phone with a small, knowing smile and said, "Great time, huh?"