***"If I just lay here***
***Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"*** *\- Snow Patrol*
***Holden Young***
From where I stood, I could see her moving around the kitchen, her messy hair effortlessly beautiful. She seemed lost in thought, her gaze distant as she held a glass of water.
A smile crept onto my face. How could someone look so stunning without even trying?
“Already running away from me?” I asked, my voice hoarse from sleep as I leaned against the door frame.
She turned around, surprised, and a pang of satisfaction hit me as I realized I’d caught her off guard.
“No. I just... needed a minute,” she replied, raising the glass with an innocent expression that didn’t match what we’d done the night before.
I walked toward her, my steps slow, letting the moment out. I took the glass from her hand, took a sip, and watched her over the rim.
“You know, you look good in my shirt,” I said casually, though my tone betrayed how captivated I was.
She rolled her eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Don’t even think about bragging this.”
“Too late,” I said, leaning in to touch her arm. Just one touch, but the sensation was immediate. The same electricity as last night.
It was still there, alive and buzzing.
I wondered how much longer we could live in this bubble, just the two of us, before the outside world came to collect its due.
And as if the universe were daring me, the apartment door suddenly swung open, slamming against the wall.
“Holden!” Cyrus’s voice echoed through the room like a thunderclap.
“Shit,” I muttered, stepping back quickly and looking for something to wear. Alissa darted away, laughing as she bent down to grab the clothes scattered on the floor.
Before I could respond, Cyrus appeared in the bedroom doorway, stopping abruptly when he saw us.
“Good morning to you too,” he said, raising an eyebrow with that superior expression only he could pull off.
“Cyrus, don’t start,” I snapped, annoyed, as I pulled on my pants and tried to look more composed than I felt.
“Relax,” he said, walking into the room as if he owned the place. “This isn’t about you two... at least not yet.”
I crossed my arms, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Then why are you here, Cyrus?”
He grinned, that over-the-top grin that always made me suspicious.
“I’m here because I’ve got good news,” he announced, his voice full of enthusiasm. “Holden, you’re going on your first tour.”
His words hit me like a shock. My first tour. I should’ve been bursting with excitement, right? But all I felt was an immediate weight settling on me.
“Cyrus, it’s too soon for this,” I protested, running a hand through my messy hair.
“Nothing’s too soon when you’re at your peak,” he countered, crossing his arms. “You know that. And honestly, it’s about time.”
I knew what the tour meant for my career. It was the dream I’d had since the beginning. But now, it felt like everything was happening at the worst possible moment.
“When does it start?” I asked reluctantly, already knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.
“In two weeks,” he replied as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
I glanced at Alissa. She was still in the room, pretending to focus on something else, but I knew she’d heard every word. My chest tightened. It was too soon.
Two weeks. That was all we had.
“That’s amazing, Holden!” she said with an enthusiasm I knew wasn’t entirely real. “I need to go to work; I’ve got an event. We’ll talk later.” She kissed my cheek and left as evasively as possible.
Running away again, but this time, I couldn’t blame her.
I flopped onto the couch, but the idea of relaxing felt absurd. I grabbed my phone, opened social media, and instantly regretted it.
The headlines were already everywhere:
*“Holden Young Announces His First Tour!”*
*“The New Rock Sensation Is Ready to Take the World by Storm.”*
The fans were thrilled. The schedule was ambitious: 15 cities in five months. Everything I’d ever wanted was happening, but now... it felt like the wrong time.
“That’s not the face of someone who just achieved a dream,” Cyrus’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“I’m just processing everything,” I replied, trying to sound more excited than I felt.
“You should be celebrating,” he said, tossing some papers onto the table and sitting in the armchair across from me. “Your own tour, fans going crazy, the potential to become the next big thing. What more do you want?”
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again. He didn’t know about my dad, about what I’d found out. And I wasn’t ready to tell him.
“It’s complicated,” was all I managed to say.
Cyrus stared at me for a moment, frowning. “Holden, listen. You’ve always wanted this. Always. I remember you saying you’d do anything to be where you are now.”
“I know,” I replied, avoiding his gaze.
“Then what’s the problem?” he asked, frustration evident in his voice.
I thought about Alissa, about how the distance could affect us. I thought about my dad, about what he’d done. It felt like everything was piling on at once, and I didn’t know how to handle it.
“Alissa,” I finally admitted.
“Oh,” he said, leaning back in the armchair, crossing his arms. “Of course.”
“I finally managed to get close to her,” I continued, my voice quieter. “And now I’m going to have to leave.”
Cyrus sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. “Look, kid, I know it seems hard. But love and success rarely go hand in hand.”
I looked up at him, surprised by his brutal honesty. “That’s the best you’ve got for me?”
“You want me to lie?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “You want me to tell you it’ll be easy, that you’ll live happily ever after while you travel city to city and work 20-hour days? Because that’s not going to happen.”
His words were like a slap in the face, but I knew he was right.
“You need to decide what you want more,” he continued, standing up from the armchair. “This isn’t just about you, Holden. It’s about your career, your team, everyone who works to make this happen.”
“I know that,” I said, trying to keep my irritation in check.
“Then act like you know it,” he replied, his voice firm but not hostile.
Cyrus checked his watch and grabbed the papers again. “We’ve got an official tour press conference in an hour. I expect you to show up with a smile on your face.” He patted my shoulder before walking out.
I was alone again, with the weight of his words hanging over me.
Maybe he was right.
...
The official event to announce the tour seemed grander than I had expected, with reporters, photographers, and even select fans in the audience.
Cyrus stood by my side, his rigid posture radiating an air of control over everything around us. I, on the other hand, tried to maintain my rehearsed smile while waving at people.
That’s when I noticed something different: a young red-haired woman, dressed in a shimmering outfit, talking to a group of journalists near the stage.
“Who’s she?” I asked.
He glanced at me, followed by a hesitant smile. “Oh, right, I forgot to mention this little detail.”
“What detail, Cyrus?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Holden, this is Chloe Laurent,” he said, nodding toward the young woman, who was now posing for photos. “The winner of the Canadian reality show.”
“And what is she doing here?” My voice came out sharper than I intended.
Cyrus took a deep breath as if preparing for something he knew I wouldn’t like. “She’s going to open your shows on the tour.”
“What?” I asked, trying to keep my composure.
“It’s part of the contract, Holden,” Cyrus explained, adjusting his tie as if it would somehow ease the tension. “The show required her to have a platform to launch her career, and there’s no better opportunity than a successful tour like yours.”
I looked at Chloe again, now smiling at the cameras. “And no one thought it was important to inform me about this?”
“I was going to tell you, but…” Cyrus began, but I cut him off.
“But you knew I wouldn’t like it.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Look, I get that it’s not ideal, but it’s a requirement. Without her, the program’s support would be pulled.”
I ran a hand over my face, trying to contain my frustration.
“So basically, I don’t have a choice.”
“Basically,” he replied with a small apologetic smile.
I glanced at Chloe again as she approached us, now accompanied by a small entourage of publicists.
“Holden!” she said, extending her hand with a radiant smile. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Chloe Laurent.”
I shook her hand, trying to remain cordial. “Pleasure to meet you, Chloe.”
“I’m so excited to work with you,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I’m a huge fan of your work.”
“Glad to hear it,” I replied, forcing a smile.
As we talked, camera flashes surrounded us, capturing every move. I could already imagine the headlines—great.
“She seems delightful,” I muttered sarcastically, crossing my arms.
“Holden, I know it’s complicated,” Cyrus said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “But think of it as an opportunity. She’ll bring a new audience to the tour, and that will only boost your popularity.”
I shook my head, unconvinced. “Whatever, it’s just another problem to add to the list.”
Cyrus let out a short laugh. “Welcome to showbiz, kid.”
The tour was supposed to be the peak of my career, but now it felt more like a web of problems I could barely manage.
And the distance already felt like a tangible burden looming before my eyes.