𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 3

Chapter 3:

A Shoulder to Lean On

Lena sat in her dressing room, staring at her phone, debating whether she should check Twitter again.

She already knew what she'd find.

More hate. More Who even is she? More I'm skipping the opener.

She wasn't new to criticism. She'd been making music long enough to know that not everyone was going to like her.

But this?

This was different.

This was an entire fanbase treating her like she didn't deserve to be here.

Like she wasn't good enough.

She tossed her phone onto the couch and groaned, rubbing her hands over her face.

It had only been two shows.

Two.

And it already felt like she was drowning.

A knock at the door made her jump.

She already knew who it was before she even looked up.

Gracie.

Again.

Just like last night.

Just like after the first show.

Lena hesitated before calling out, "Yeah?"

The door opened, and there she was.

Soft brown hair. Oversized hoodie. That same warm look in her eyes.

"Hey." Gracie smiled. "How are you feeling?"

Lena forced a smirk. "Oh, you know. Living the dream."

Gracie's smile faded a little.

She closed the door behind her and sat down next to Lena on the couch, tucking her legs up beneath her.

Lena swallowed.

She was too close.

Not too close, but—close enough that Lena could smell her shampoo.

Vanilla and something else. Something soft.

Gracie tilted her head. "You sure you're okay?"

Lena exhaled, leaning back against the couch.

She wasn't okay.

But she didn't want to say it out loud.

Didn't want to sound weak.

She glanced at Gracie, ready to deflect with a joke—

But Gracie was looking at her like she knew.

Like she already saw through the act.

Lena hesitated.

Then, finally, she let out a breath.

"No," she admitted. "Not really."

Gracie's face softened. "Yeah?"

Lena nodded, staring at the floor. "I knew people weren't gonna be excited about me being on this tour. I knew that. But... I don't know. It still fucking sucks."

Gracie was quiet for a second.

Then she said, softly, "I get it."

Lena let out a dry laugh. "Do you, though? You're Gracie Abrams. Everyone loves you."

Gracie huffed. "That is not true."

Lena frowned.

Gracie leaned back against the couch, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "When I first started, people hated me. Said I was only getting opportunities because of my dad, said I was just another industry plant."

Lena blinked.

She had seen some of that, years ago.

But now? It was hard to imagine anyone saying anything bad about Gracie Abrams.

"I used to obsess over the comments," Gracie continued. "Like, every night after a show, I'd scroll for hours, just looking for the worst ones. It fucked with my head so bad."

Lena stared at her. "How'd you stop?"

Gracie sighed. "I don't know if I ever really stopped. But I guess at some point, I just... realized it wasn't worth it."

Lena stayed quiet.

Because she wasn't there yet.

Not even close.

Gracie nudged her knee. "I know it's easier said than done. But I promise you—once they actually listen, once they see you up there every night, they will come around."

Lena exhaled. "And if they don't?"

Gracie smiled.

"That's their fucking loss."

Lena huffed out a laugh. "You always this optimistic?"

Gracie grinned. "Nope. Just for you."

Lena's stomach did something weird.

Something she didn't have time to think about.

Gracie stood up, stretching her arms over her head. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Lena frowned. "Where?"

"Coffee."

"It's midnight."

Gracie shrugged. "So?"

Lena hesitated.

Her first instinct was to say no.

To stay in here, wallow in self-pity, maybe doomscroll until she fell asleep.

But then Gracie tilted her head, eyes warm and expectant, and—

Fuck.

"Fine," Lena muttered, standing up. "But if I fall asleep on my feet, it's on you."

Gracie beamed. "Deal."

Noah and Maya were already waiting in the lobby when they got there.

Noah—Gracie's guitarist—was half-asleep, leaning against the wall. Maya—Gracie's tour photographer—was scrolling through her phone, looking significantly more awake.

Eli was the last to arrive, yawning dramatically as he walked over. "Why the fuck are we getting coffee at midnight?"

Gracie grinned. "Because we can."

Eli narrowed his eyes. "You're unhinged."

Gracie laughed. "You love it."

Lena shook her head, smiling despite herself.

They ended up walking a few blocks to a tiny 24-hour café, piling into a booth in the back.

Noah ordered tea instead of coffee, claiming he needed to be "well-rested for the real job"—which apparently meant playing guitar and looking cool.

Maya rolled her eyes at him, camera slung over her shoulder as always.

Eli was already giving Lena shit. "Oh, so now you're in a good mood? All it takes is a cute girl dragging you out for coffee?"

Lena kicked him under the table. "Shut the fuck up."

Eli just smirked.

Gracie laughed, stirring sugar into her coffee.

Lena couldn't help but glance at her.

She looked so—

At ease.

Even in an ugly hoodie and no makeup, she still somehow managed to look ridiculously pretty.

Lena swallowed and looked away.

The five of them ended up staying there for almost two hours.

Talking.

Laughing.

Lena had been on the road before, but this? This felt different.

She wasn't used to this.

She wasn't used to feeling—

Included.

By the time they walked back to the hotel, Lena felt lighter than she had in days.

She still had to go onstage tomorrow.

People would probably still talk shit.

But at least she wasn't alone in it.

That had to count for something.