𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 7

Chapter 7:

Breaking Point

Lena never thought she'd get used to this.

The tour. The crowds. The feeling of stepping onstage every night, knowing people were actually there to see her.

But somehow, she had.

The fear that had gripped her during those first few shows had slowly started to fade. The boos had turned into cheers. The hate comments were still there, but they were drowned out by people who actually gave a shit.

She wasn't just "the random opener" anymore.

People knew her now.

They sang her lyrics back to her. They held up signs with her name on them. Some even called themselves fans.

It felt surreal.

And for the first time in her career, Lena actually let herself believe—maybe she was good enough for this.

But the one thing she wasn't good at?

Pretending she didn't care about Gracie Abrams.

She should have seen it coming.

She had been on edge all day.

The tour was almost over—only a handful of shows left before everything ended, before she and Gracie had to figure out what the fuck came next.

And Lena hated it.

She hated the uncertainty, the way time was running out, the way they had spent weeks sneaking around and pretending and biting their tongues when all she wanted to do was exist next to Gracie without thinking about who was watching.

So, yeah. She had been tense all day.

And then that happened.

Lena had been backstage, leaning against a speaker, minding her own business. The crew was running around, people laughing and shouting and getting ready for the show.

And then she saw her.

Some girl.

Tall, blonde, effortlessly cool in the way that made Lena irrationally annoyed.

And she was standing way too close to Gracie.

Lena watched as Gracie laughed at something the girl said, touching her arm, the way she leaned in slightly, like they had a whole world between just the two of them.

And Lena?

Lena had to pretend she didn't care.

She had to stand there, arms crossed, expression blank, while something ugly twisted inside her.

Because no one knew.

No one knew that Gracie Abrams was hers.

And the worst part?

She wasn't even mad at Gracie.

She was mad at the fact that she couldn't do anything about it.

She wasn't going to say anything.

She wasn't.

She had promised herself she wouldn't be the jealous type, wouldn't be that person.

But the second they were alone, the words were out before she could stop them.

"So, who was she?"

Gracie blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What?"

Lena folded her arms, voice sharper than she intended. "That girl. The one you were talking to."

Gracie frowned. "Oh. That's just Elise."

Elise.

Lena already hated her.

"She seemed close," Lena said, hating how bitter she sounded.

Gracie's brows furrowed. "Are you serious right now?"

Lena exhaled, trying to keep her frustration in check. "I don't know, Gracie. It's just annoying. Watching you stand there and laugh with her like—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "Never mind."

Gracie's expression softened. "Like what?"

Lena looked away. "Like I don't exist."

Gracie was silent for a moment. Then—

"Lena." Her voice was quieter now.

Lena sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I know I'm being stupid."

"You're not," Gracie said firmly.

Lena let out a dry laugh. "I kind of am."

Gracie stepped closer, hesitant. "It's not fair, is it?"

Lena swallowed hard. "No. It's not."

Gracie exhaled, voice thick with something Lena couldn't quite place. "I hate it too."

Lena glanced up. "Yeah?"

Gracie nodded. "Every time I have to walk past you without touching you. Every time I have to pretend I don't care that you're in the same room. Every time someone flirts with you and I have to act normal about it."

Lena's breath hitched. "Gracie..."

Gracie's gaze was steady. "I don't want to keep hiding."

Lena's heart pounded.

"Me neither."

Gracie reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. "Then maybe we don't."

Lena squeezed her hand back.

Maybe they didn't.

They spent the rest of the night tangled together in Gracie's hotel bed.

Not in a sexual way—just in a them way.

Soft. Warm. Safe.

Gracie was curled into Lena's side, her head resting against her chest, their fingers lazily tracing patterns on each other's skin.

"I'm still mad at you for talking to Elise," Lena murmured, half-asleep.

Gracie huffed a quiet laugh. "You're ridiculous."

Lena smirked. "I know."

Gracie tilted her head, pressing a slow, sleepy kiss to Lena's jaw. "For the record, she's just a friend."

Lena hummed, eyes fluttering shut. "Mm-hmm."

Gracie smiled against her skin.

They fell asleep like that.

Wrapped up in each other.

And for the first time in weeks, Lena didn't feel like she was hiding.