Chapter 12

POV Ashton

**Receiving a call from Dad.**

I ignore yet another one of the thousands made in the last twenty-four hours. If there's one thing Conrad Baker hates, it's being rejected.

My voicemail is full, and I have no intention of emptying it to make him even angrier. Am I being childish? Yes, that's true. But nothing amuses me more than pissing my dad off.

I turn the phone screen down, spinning in the swivel chair. Finn doesn’t take his eagle-eyed gaze off me, as if expecting me to take another action that’ll put me in trouble again.

In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve been attacked even more after Isabella Wren exposed her opinion on how much of an asshole I am. There’s nothing more exhausting than a girl who hasn’t gotten over a breakup.

I understand her, I swear I do, because in her place, I’d also be disappointed about ending things with me. However, that doesn’t give her the right to use every controversy involving my name as a stage.

Ravennah Hollow hates me. Yes, I have no doubt about that feeling. Everything she’s posted about me in the last few months is her way of showing just how much. And I’m not trying to argue that I’m the good guy.

I can be many things, but I don’t run from responsibility. I deserve all the anger directed at me. But I’m not saying Ravennah has the right to expose others. I think I’m starting to understand—and accept—that this is my life.

This wasn’t how I imagined our success, but after a meeting lasting almost four hours, which felt more like a sermon from Sydney, Avalon, and Jared, we concluded that we need to resolve this issue as soon as possible.

My bad reputation is rotting the other apples in the basket, and the last thing I want is to see the band suffer because of me.

Fuck. We fought, stopped talking, and went through so much shit together in the last few years that it’s not fair for it all to be in vain because of me. Guilty and ashamed would sound like an understatement for my state right now.

At the height of this situation, I’d agree to anything for the damage control to work. If I found out who the son of a bitch who took photos of me and Gravity fighting and sold them to TNC was, I think I’d be capable of burying him alive. People don’t get it. Even though the guys and I are public figures, we still need space and privacy.

Another thing Jared said, with great emphasis, is that no matter how much I repeat that no one has anything to do with my life, the moment we released our first album, we signed our sentence. For the good and the bad, no matter how wrong the invasion is, it was still my choice. I can’t just want the money; I need to learn how to deal with fame and the chaos that comes with it.

Wanting to enjoy my money, whether it’s with sex, drugs, or parties, is nobody’s business, but I’m no longer a stranger to the people walking down the street. I’m famous. As things happen, I’m starting to understand the proportion of it and how every stupid choice I make leads to another shitty trap. Everyone is ready to use my mistakes to hurt me. That’s what they live for, whether they like it or not.

To be honest, the worst part wasn’t the posts from TNC and other gossip sites, it was seeing how the fans are struggling to defend us, and with every misstep I take, their arguments are weakening.

I’m afraid that one day I’ll wake up and they won’t be there anymore. Knowing they exist is one of the things that makes me happiest today, if not the only thing. That’s why I agreed to this meeting, and only for that reason, I’m leaning towards Jared’s plan.

I need to get married.

And it needs to seem like a conscious and sincere decision.

I can’t leave any gaps for this secret to turn against us in the future. Because once the news spreads, there’s no turning back, and I won’t be the only target; I, my friends, our team... Fuck, literally everyone I love the most will be held accountable. And I don’t want that to happen.

I might cause problems that lead to bigger ones, but I don’t want my decisions to fall on my family. I love the guys. I really do. I love them like crazy. So much that thinking about losing them again makes me sick. I’d do anything to keep us together until the end.

Even if it means giving in to Jared’s crazy plan to marry Gravity.

Fake marriage, of course, but I’ve never laughed so hard.

Knowing that the chances of her agreeing are slim, my Plan B is to turn to Harper. Because no way in hell am I marrying someone I don’t know. Even if it’s fake, we figured out yesterday that, for the story to be believable, there needs to be something behind it.

Harper was my first choice, but Sydney was relentless. Her daughter won’t have her studies affected because of me. And well, I already messed with Gravity’s work. She has nothing to lose.

The moment I see her crossing the room in noisy square heels, wearing light skinny jeans from Calvin Klein and a white shirt with a knot on the left side, I realize that the chances of her agreeing are even smaller than they were three days ago.

The deal is that I don’t open my mouth. In this meeting, only Jared, Avalon, and Sydney talk.

According to our producer, these contract relationships are more common than we think. But, for sure, for it to work, the story needs to make sense to the one who’s going to hear it. And I don’t want to disappoint the people who support us.

As long as my fans don’t feel bad, I’ll do anything to get The Reckless out of this bad spot I’ve put them in.

"Thank you for coming, Gravity. We’re so sorry you’ve been exposed these last few days. We saw that they’ve already figured out who you are and your social media went crazy, right?"

Gravity doesn’t even direct her gaze to me, throwing it to Avalon, keeping her attention fixed on our assistant.

"There are paparazzi outside," she points out, crossing her arms and relaxing against the back of the chair. "Is that why they sent a bodyguard to pick me up?"

Wade.

Yes, because there’s a good chance you’ll act like you did a few days ago and punch a paparazzo.

That’s what I want to answer, but I press my lips together, keeping the response locked up.

Avalon smiles gently, and I wonder why she never smiles at me like that.

"Why am I here?" Gravity shifts her eyes between me and the guys because, even though she hates me, I’m still a familiar face.

Milan changed her. Gravity used to be impulsive, didn’t take any shit, but the way she acted with Magdalene, letting her treat her that way, was unbearable to watch and not do anything. I kept wondering why the hell a girl like her, who’s always been stubborn, cowered in that situation. I wish she’d let me get close enough to find out what changed in these past few years.

Paris was a turning point, sure, but besides that, what more?

"We have a proposal." Jared leans forward, pushing the document across the table.

The guys and I spent the whole night reading. If Gravity is still the same, if there’s even a tiny bit of what she used to be, she’ll refuse right away.

"Marriage contract?" Her eyes go back to Jared, both eyebrows raising almost to the root of her hair. "What the hell is this?" She doesn’t even bother to read the first line.

"Ashton isn’t in the best situation," Sydney tries, but before she can finish her sentence, Gravity laughs. The bitterness of her laugh hits me in the gut.

"Are you serious?" This time, her attention shifts to me. "You have the nerve to think of me for a fake relationship? I know you’re impulsive and don’t know the meaning of limits, but do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

Yeah, she’s still the same. At least a little bit.

"Do you all know what this means?" She studies me and the guys, and what I see in her eyes makes me shrink. "I knew you’d changed, but this is too much. This is really too much."

"Gravity..." Aidan speaks softly, testing how far he can go with her in this first moment.

"No." She stops him, extending her hand to be as expressive as possible. "What you’re suggesting is madness. This only happens in movies."

"Actually, in their world, it’s very common," Avalon interrupts, forcing a friendly smile. "Musicians, actresses, actors... Fake relationships are a great way to solve any problem, whether it’s marketing or, in this case, to recover someone’s dignity when they’re about to destroy everyone’s career around them." She throws me an angry glance, and I shrink. "You’re the perfect option, Gravity."

"Why me? He’s been with so many women this last year, any one of them could take this role."

"Because the story would be absolutely believable." Jared justifies. "You and Ashton have a past." She turns to me, and I lock her gaze with mine. "You two were in a relationship before."

"Did he say that?"

"No, but if you hate him, we don’t need much more to know it’s true." He continues. "It’s an eight-month contract. Dating, engagement, marriage. Dating and engagement for three months, marriage for the other five. You can use that time to get visibility. We hired you as a stylist for The Reckless to finish the tour and you’ll add that job to your resume. You’ll make more money in a year than you would in ten. Only a few people will know the truth, and for the world out there, you two will be living an intense love that’s been brewing since you lived in Humperville." I can see in his eyes that this is the moment he’ll start appealing. "You’re unemployed, Gravity, and you know Magdalene can stain your career if she wants. No matter how much you plan on crawling back to that studio, you don’t want to work with her again."

Gravity’s breathing falters. I try to keep her attention on me, but as Jared speaks, she shifts her focus to our manager, forming a crease in my forehead that deepens with each minute I watch her give in to the dumbest proposal I’ve ever heard.

All for money. That doesn’t make her different from the others I’ve been with. It doesn’t make her different from Nicola.