The world seemed to stand still.

Finn stared at me, an awful look in his eyes, like I'd just cracked him open and ripped out his heart.

I immediately ended the call, even as Louise was saying something, but it was too late, far too fucking late.

"Who was that?" Finn said. His voice was steady, but it was a forced steadiness, like he was fighting hard not to show me what he was really feeling.

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I couldn't lie to him, but I didn't know how to tell him that I'd been lying and hiding things from him this entire time.

"You said Louise. I can guess which fucking Louise, but I want to hear you say it," Finn said, and his voice wasn't as steady this time.

I'd forgotten that Finn would know who Louise was, but of course he would. Clash was the biggest music publication in the UK and Finn was one of the biggest rockstars in the world. He'd have encountered her name one way or another.

"Say it," Finn repeated. "Fucking say it."

I closed my eyes, feeling everything that we'd built crumbling to dust. "Louise Hoffman," I said.

"Louise Hoffman of Clash?" Even now it seemed like Finn couldn't quite believe that I'd done this.

Fresh tears stung my eyes, and I furiously blinked them away. I had no right to cry, not now. "Yes," I whispered.

Finn actually recoiled a little. "You're just like all the others, aren't you?" he said.

"No, Finn –"

"I trusted you." His voice rose over mine. "I trusted you more than I've trusted anyone in a very long time, and all this time you were gathering material for fucking stories on me."

I tried to speak but the words still wouldn't come.

"I came to find you just now because I was notified about these rumours about the woman who was living with me, and I was confused as hell because how could anyone know you were here?" Finn looked me up and down, his lip curling with sheer contempt. "Now I know. You sold the fucking story yourself."

"No," I cried, finding my voice. "Finn, that's not true. I had nothing to do with this. That's why Louise called –"

"Don't." Finn held up a hand. "I fucking heard enough. A new angle, Louise said. That means you two already had a fucking angle, and it wasn't that interview, was it?"

"Finn," I whispered, and a couple of tears escaped. "Please, just let me explain –"

"Fuck you." The quiet defeat in Finn's voice was worse than if he'd shouted. "We're done here, Tasha. I don't want anything more to fucking do with you."

There was nothing I could say, nothing I could to stop him from turning his back and walking away.

My knees suddenly buckled and I reached for something to steady myself, but nothing was within reach. I folded to the floor, my phone still clutched tight in my hand.

There was a shaky, shuddery feeling in my chest, a tightness in my lungs like I couldn't get enough air.

The last time Finn had got angry with me, when he'd caught me in his bedroom, I'd got angry right back, even though I'd been in the wrong.

Now I was so fucking far in the wrong that there was no room for anything but bitter, searing regret.

Realistically, as much as I'd never wanted to admit to myself, this thing with Finn could never have lasted, but it wasn't meant to end with Finn absolutely hating my fucking guts.

I didn't even have anyone to turn to.

I'd told Camden that I wasn't Finn's girlfriend, which was true, but talking to her about this would mean admitting that we had been sleeping together, and that really wasn't a conversation that I wanted to have.

I couldn't turn to my parents for the same reason.

Nola was out, obviously.

Lily?

No. Telling her about this would be a further betrayal.

I dragged myself to my feet and wobbled over to the sofa where I slumped down again, my head spinning.

Against my better instincts, I found myself scouring social media again, trying to make sense of how quickly this had happened. I knew from both Jude and Camden that celebrity gossip travelled fast, but I hadn't realised it was this fast, or that so many people would care this much. Hearing about it wasn't the same as experiencing it.

I paused on one post expressing confusion that Finn was apparently living with someone when he and Penny Lang had been rumoured to be getting back together. I delved deeper down that particular rabbit hole, and quickly wished I hadn't.

Which cunt is coming between Finn and Penny? one woman posted.

I bet she's a slut, another woman replied.

Probably only after his money, like the rest of you gold-digging bitches, another user chimed in. I couldn't tell if it was a man or woman, though I assumed a man.

The comments went on and on, and far too many of them were from women.

Can we find out who this whore is?

Someone fucking expose her!

Hands off. Finn's spoken for.

Finn and Penny belong together. No one can come between #Pinn

Find the bitch and warn her that the Pinn army is coming for her.

Pinn. That stupid name that fans and media had coined when Finn and Penny were dating.

Bile rose in my throat as I read on and on.

Jude had warned me that fans could be crazy, but Jesus, I'd never been on the receiving end of anything like this. These people were beyond crazy.

How could they have so much vitriol for someone they'd never met, someone they didn't even know was real yet? I was nothing but a rumour to them, and yet so many of them already hated me enough to wish me physical harm.

What the fuck was wrong with people?

Within a couple of hours, Penny Lang herself had posted about the rumours, expressing surprise and confusion as she'd been under the impression that she and Finn were getting back together, and receiving a flood of support in return. Thousands of fans commented on her post, assuring her that Pinn was destiny, and no other bitch would keep her and Finn apart, or telling her how sorry they were and that whoever the secret girlfriend was, she couldn't compare to Penny. Others promised her that they'd find this other woman and make her pay.

I wondered if Penny actually read these comments, and if she did, what she thought about them.

Did she ever find it weird that people she'd never met – would likely never meet – cared this much about her private life? Wasn't she disturbed that her fans were making threats against another woman simply because there was a rumour that Finn was dating her?

Hell, weren't any of Penny's fans themselves disturbed by what was being said? I spotted several death threats in the comments, receiving absolutely no pushback from anyone.

And almost no one directed any anger towards Finn. A handful of comments called him a shithead and a cheater, some claiming they'd never listen to Momentum again – as if Finn would care about that – but most of the bile was directed solely at me.

A chill ran down my spine.

If things were this bad now, how much fucking worse would they get if Izzy released my name?

When Jude's fans had found out about Camden, things had got pretty ugly for a while – and sometimes they still were. They'd been together long enough now that most people accepted and even supported their marriage, but my sister still received online threats from time to time. She didn't seem too bothered by it now, telling me that she could ignore words on a screen. It was the physical confrontations that had scared her, and those hadn't happened in a while.

Would that happen to me too?

If Izzy released my name, would Penny's fans come after me, like Jude's had done to Camden when their marriage was first made public?

Would Finn's fans?

Louise tried several times to call me back, but I ignored her every time.

She left voicemails. I deleted them.

I didn't call Camden back, just texted her to let her know I needed some space. Luckily my sister respected that.

Fuck, I needed a drink.

I rummaged through the cabinets until I found a bottle of gin. I sloshed it into a glass, topped it up with some tonic water, and drank it in one. Then I poured another.

Somewhere in the house – probably Finn's bedroom or music studio – Rammstein was playing at full volume, the heavy music pounding against the walls.

"Well, Tasha," I said, gazing down into my drink. "You brought this on your-fucking-self."

I felt sorry for myself, and I had no right to. Okay, maybe I did about the online stuff because I really didn't deserve any of that viciousness, but that wasn't the only thing chipping away at me.

I couldn't stop thinking about the look in Finn's eyes when he caught me talking to Louise – that, and the disgusted expression he'd given me before he walked away.

He hated me, and I absolutely deserved that.

When I'd first decided I could use this opportunity to gather material on him, I hadn't really known him. He'd just been some asshole rockstar, a guy I owed nothing. Except of course that he'd come into a blizzard to help me, had given me a room in his house to stay, had provided me with clothes and food, the list went on.

Even when I hadn't known him, even when he'd been kind of a dick, he'd still made sure I was taken care of. I hadn't fully appreciated that at the time.

But the worst betrayal was continuing to humour Louise. I'd decided ages ago that I wasn't going to sell anything on Finn, but that didn't matter now, did it? I'd still kept in contact with Louise. I'd still led her on, still pretended I was going to sell Finn out, because I'd been too weak to come clean. If I had, then Louise wouldn't have phoned me today. Finn would never have overheard that conversation, and he would still be looking at me like he had last night in the pool, like I was worth something to him.

I'd ruined everything.

***

Unsurprisingly I didn't see Finn again that day.

He continued to play loud music from wherever he was, and I stayed in the kitchen, getting absolutely shit-faced because I didn't know what else to do.

I wanted my friends here. I wanted Nola and Lily to hug me and tell me everything would be okay, only they couldn't because Nola wasn't speaking to me, Lily had no idea what was going on, and nothing was going to be okay. I'd spectacularly fucked up, and I couldn't see any way to fix it.

"You've got no one to blame but yourself," I muttered as I sloshed more gin into my glass. I'd given up on the tonic, but I wasn't sure when. It was getting hard to think; parts of this evening were just a black hole.

Maybe if I drank enough, I could wipe the whole day from memory.

I raised my glass to my lips but wobbled off balance and spilled half of it down myself.

Huh.

When had the room started spinning?

I turned, tripped over my own feet, and managed to grab the countertop to keep me from falling. My head felt foggy and loose, too heavy on my neck. I needed to lie down before I fell down.

"Bed," I mumbled. My tongue felt thick and dry.

I lurched toward the entryway, still clutching my glass. Out in the hall, I bounced off one wall then another, and then reeled against a door, catching my hip on the handle. If it hurt, I didn't feel it.

Something wet was running down my hand; I raised my hand and sniffed. Gin. Was there anything left in my glass now? I squinted into it. It looked pretty empty.

Leaning against the wall, I peered down the revolving hallway. How far away was my room? Was it that door just ahead?

I stumbled forward, ricocheting off the walls again, trying to stay upright. I just needed to go a little further –

Wait, why was I on the floor?

I planted both palms on the bare boards and tried to push myself up but my legs refused to cooperate.

Maybe I could just sleep here . . .

Strong hands gently lifted me, and my head hurt, and everything was spinning, including my stomach, but I knew those hands, I knew the hard chest I was cradled against, and I wanted to cry, both because I hadn't thought he'd ever touch me again and because this was probably the last time.

I closed my eyes and nestled my head against Finn's shoulder. I heard a door opening, and then suddenly I was moving away from Finn, lowering through the air until my back touched the softness of a mattress.

Finn rolled me onto my side, and goddamn that pillow felt nice. The covers rustled as he pulled them over me, and my eyelids fluttered, trying to fight off the blackness that was trying to suck me under.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

If Finn said anything back, I didn't hear it.

I fell into the dark.