𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 1

Chapter 1:

The Offer

Lena Carter wasn't expecting anything special when she woke up that morning.

She rolled over in bed, groaning at the sound of her phone buzzing nonstop.

"Eli, what the fuck?" she mumbled, grabbing it from her nightstand.

27 missed calls from Eli Parker.

Her best friend. Her manager. And apparently, a fucking maniac.

She sighed and pressed call.

The second he picked up, she had to pull the phone away from her ear.

"LENA, GET YOUR ASS UP RIGHT NOW!"

She winced. "Jesus, what? What happened? Did my album flop? Did I get canceled overnight?"

"No, dumbass." She could hear his heavy breathing. "Check your fucking email. Right now."

Lena frowned, dragging herself out of bed. Her laptop sat open on her desk, the screen dim. She shook the mouse, waiting for it to wake up.

"I swear to God, Eli, if this is about some dumb brand deal again—"

"It's not a brand deal." He was pacing, she could tell. "Just look."

Her email loaded.

And then she saw it.

Subject: Tour Opportunity with Gracie Abrams

Her heart stopped.

"What the fuck?"

"Told you."

She clicked on it, scanning the message so fast that the words barely made sense.

Hi Lena,

I'm reaching out on behalf of Gracie Abrams and her team. We're currently looking for an opener for the Secret of Us Tour, and Gracie recently discovered your music. She loves your sound and thinks you'd be a great fit. We'd love to discuss the opportunity with you.

Let us know if you're interested.

Lena's hands were shaking.

No fucking way.

Gracie Abrams?

Gracie fucking Abrams?

She leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen. This had to be a joke. A prank. Something.

Because there was no way Gracie Abrams—one of the biggest rising artists in the world—had listened to her music and thought, Yeah, I want her on tour with me.

"This isn't real," she muttered.

"It's real," Eli said. "I already triple-checked the sender. It's from her actual team."

Lena blinked. "But... why?"

"Because you're fucking good, Lena."

Her heart was pounding.

She had been making music for years. Writing songs in her bedroom. Playing tiny shows in coffee shops. She had a small but loyal fanbase, enough to make a living, but nothing crazy.

Opening for Gracie Abrams? That was a whole different level.

She swallowed hard. "I don't know, man. This is a lot."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Eli sounded like he was about to have a stroke. "This is literally the opportunity. It could change everything."

She exhaled.

He wasn't wrong.

But it was terrifying.

She knew Gracie's fans. They were intense.

They would rip her apart if they didn't think she was good enough.

And right now? She wasn't sure she was.

—

Two days later, Lena was sitting in a fancy-ass LA office, waiting to meet Gracie Abrams.

She tapped her foot against the floor, heart racing.

The email had led to a phone call. The phone call had led to a meeting.

And now she was here.

Eli sat next to her, scrolling through his phone like they weren't about to walk into one of the biggest moments of her career.

"You good?" he asked.

She clenched her fists. "Not really."

He glanced up. "You should be excited."

"I am. But I'm also about to shit myself."

He snorted. "Please don't."

Before she could respond, the door opened.

And then—

There she was.

Gracie Abrams.

Standing right in front of her.

She looked exactly like she did in every picture. Soft brown hair. Oversized hoodie. Big, warm eyes.

And she was smiling.

"Lena?"

Lena scrambled to her feet. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

Gracie grinned. "It's so nice to meet you. I've been listening to your music non-stop."

Lena blinked. "Wait, seriously?"

"Of course! I found your song July Rain a few months ago, and I fell in love. I showed it to my band, and we all agreed—you'd be perfect for the tour."

Lena's brain short-circuited.

Gracie Abrams had listened to her music.

Not only that—she had liked it.

"Oh, uh... wow. Thank you," she stammered. "That's crazy."

Gracie smiled again. "Come on in. Let's talk."

The meeting went better than Lena expected.

Gracie was—annoyingly—really nice.

She talked about how much she loved music. How she wanted the tour to feel intimate, personal. How she wanted an opener who fit the vibe.

"I know my fans can be kind of... intense," she admitted with a sheepish laugh. "But I really think they'll love you once they hear you."

Lena nodded slowly. "And if they don't?"

Gracie's smile faded. "Then fuck them."

Lena blinked.

Gracie laughed. "I'm serious. You're incredibly talented. If they don't see it at first, that's their problem."

Lena studied her.

She didn't seem like she was bullshitting.

She actually believed what she was saying.

And for some reason... that made Lena believe it too.

Two weeks later, the announcement went live.

GRACIE ABRAMS ANNOUNCES OPENING ACT FOR 'SECRET OF US TOUR'

Lena Carter was officially opening for Gracie Abrams on the Secret of Us Tour.

And the internet lost its fucking mind.

@gracieupdates: who the fuck is lena carter??????

@graciesangel: we wanted someone BIGGER this is so disappointing.

@abramsbabe: im sorry but she has like 10 followers this is so embarrassing

Lena sat in her hotel room, scrolling through the comments.

She knew this would happen.

She knew.

But it still fucking sucked.

Eli plopped onto the bed beside her. "Alright, give me the phone."

She ignored him. Kept scrolling.

@graciesstan: Hope she's good because I've never heard of her in my life.

Ouch.

"Lena," Eli warned.

She sighed, locking her phone and tossing it onto the bed. "They hate me."

"They don't hate you. They just don't know you yet."

"Same thing."

Eli rolled his eyes. "You haven't even played a single show. They'll come around."

Lena wasn't so sure.

But it was too late to back out now.