***"Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me***
***Oh, and I rush to the start***
***Running in circles, chasing our tails***
***Coming back as we are."*** *\- Coldplay*
***Alissa Blake***
My job at the bar lasted only one night, thanks to Cyrus. I never imagined that Holden’s manager would be the one to get me my first job close to the field I had chosen. I’ve always loved being surrounded by music, so working with it was an obvious choice when I decided to go to college. I just didn’t expect how hard it would be to find work with a criminal record.
I mean, I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t expect it to be this brutal. I had committed crimes as a teenager, stealing from small markets and grocery stores.
But it didn’t matter. Once you have a record, you’re branded forever. Since then, my place has been in bars, diners, and any kind of job where the need to fill the position outweighs the prejudice.
So my surprise upon arriving at the place where I would start my first real job was far greater than I expected. I felt like a kid at Disney, taking in the beautiful setting where the structure was being assembled.
The event would take place outdoors, and the space was impeccable, with lights strung between trees, creating a soft glow that resembled a starry night. It was the kind of place you’d expect to see in decoration magazines, where everything seemed carefully planned to look casual yet perfect.
Being there, working as part of the production team, felt surreal. It paid well, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was doing something meaningful. Of course, Cyrus had a hand in it.
He was direct and irritatingly blunt, but he seemed genuinely interested in helping me. I just didn’t want Holden to know about it.
“You’re adapting quickly,” one of the other crew members commented as he adjusted one of the spotlights.
I shrugged, pretending a confidence I didn’t feel. “Just trying not to break anything expensive.”
I was getting used to the pace, focused on staying unnoticed and absorbing as much information and experience as possible, at least until I saw him.
Holden Young, with his hypnotic smile, walked around the venue, greeting people with waves, looking so at ease that I wondered if he had ever felt out of place in his life.
I saw him on the big screen they had set up near the equipment I was in charge of. He was being affectionate—extremely affectionate—with some fans who were already waiting in front of the event.
I felt strange but decided not to dwell on it. As always, he was being meddlesome; artists never get involved in the organizational side. They just stay in their dressing rooms, making demands and preparing, while we do the hard work.
But Holden wasn’t just any artist.
When our eyes met, he stopped for a moment, as if he were analyzing me, and then came straight toward me.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, but with a smile on his face. At least he wasn’t mad to see me, considering the cold shoulder he’d been giving me.
I had expected this to happen. It would’ve been too much for him to handle all the drama and history between us. I understood.
I pretended to shuffle the papers in my hand, trying to look busier than I was. “Working.”
“Working?” he repeated, surprise evident. “That’s cool, Alissa. I had no idea you worked with this, but I’m happy—maybe we’ll get to see each other more often now.”
I shrugged, muttering, “Pretending to be busy while you jet off to France isn’t exactly a way to show you want to be with me.”
I couldn’t control my tongue; it seemed to have a life of its own when it came to saying too much. He stopped, the surprise on his face morphing into a mix of guilt.
“Okay. That was harsh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was unexpected.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, avoiding his gaze. “I know this isn’t ideal. Maybe you’ve come to your senses and lost interest. I know memories can make things feel sentimental, but…”
Holden laughed, crossing his arms and leaning against a nearby structure. “Wait. Is that jealousy I hear?”
“Of course not,” I replied quickly—maybe too quickly.
“Oh, Alissa,” he said, tilting his head with that teasing smile on his face. “I saw the look you gave the TV when they were showing the fans.”
“I didn’t give any look,” I retorted, trying to sound indifferent.
“You did,” he insisted, the amusement in his voice obvious. “But you know what we have goes beyond that, don’t you?”
I froze for a moment. He always knew what to say to disarm me.
“You don’t need to pretend you’re not affected by what you found out about your father,” I said, more to change the subject than for any other reason.
I saw his posture shift. He looked away for a second, uncomfortable.
“Alissa…” he began, but then stopped, taking a deep breath.
“It’s not simple; I know,” I continued.
“I’ve never liked anything simple,” he replied, as sincere as ever, the intensity in his eyes hitting me hard.
Holden took a step toward me, and I felt the tension in the air rise. He always knew how to make me nervous, but now it was different. It was as if he was trying to break down every wall I had built.
And the bastard knew exactly how to do it.
“Holden, stop this,” I murmured, glancing around. “Someone might see us.” I had barely started, and he was already finding a way to get me fired.
He smiled, that smile full of hidden intentions, the same one he had when we were teenagers. “You need to understand, Alissa, that you’re the reason I keep trying.” He tilted his head, his eyes locked on mine. “I’ve always loved a challenge.”
My heart was racing, and I knew that if I stayed there, close to him, I’d give in. It was always like this—Holden made me lose control.
Before things went too far, I noticed Cyrus approaching, and the distraction was welcome. I never thought I’d feel so relieved to see him.
“Well, well,” Cyrus began with a slightly sarcastic tone. “I thought putting you on the production team would keep you two from running into each other so much. Looks like I underestimated your determination.”
“Sorry, Cyrus,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Maybe you should tighten Holden’s leash. He’s still… uncontrollable.”
Holden laughed, winking at me, which only made me more aware of the tension still lingering between us.
“I’ll think about it,” Cyrus replied, looking at Holden with a mock-serious expression. “The kid’s a handful, but he’s talented. Look at those girls out there, going crazy for him.” Cyrus laughed, proud.
Holden scratched his neck, embarrassed. “It’s just work,” he tried to justify as if there were something between us.
“I’d better get back to work. I don’t want to get fired on my first day,” I said, making up some excuse. I left before he could draw me even further into that infuriating magnetism.
I felt the heat in my face and the weight of his words in my chest, and as I walked away, I thought about everything he had said—about me being the reason he kept trying, about him loving challenges.
Holden must spend hours rehearsing this stuff in the mirror.
But even though I found his cheesy lines and constant flirting amusing, I felt myself falling deeper into the charm and power he held over me.
He was managing to get in little by little, and I no longer knew what to do.
More than anything, he made me want to give in more and more.