“Just let me try his phone one more time?”
We round a corner and turn onto a busy main street. The relative anonymity of the previous alley is lost as the orange glow of streetlights and headlights washes over us. I scan our surroundings, taking in the rows of uniform trees, bustling outdoor dining spots, and ancient stone buildings decorated with towering cream columns. Then I grab Zach’s shoulder excitedly. Separating two multi-laned roads is a wide pedestrian strip lined with park benches and shrubs, and walking down the middle of that strip are Angel and Lina.
We break into a jog again. They have their backs to us, so they don’t hear us approach until we’re upon them. When he finally does notice us, Angel doesn’t exactly look pleased for the company.
“Can’t I have five minutes to myself?” he snaps, ripping his hand away from Lina’s. She gives him a wounded look as he raises his voice further. “Not even five minutes?”
We slow to a stop, and he takes a few steps back. His eyes are wild and unfocused, and he’s breathing heavily. Jon was right. We shouldn’t technically be out here alone for a variety of reasons, but Angel, in particular, should not be out right now.
A prickling on my peripheries tells me there are already curious eyes fixed on us. I ignore them for now. Time’s slowed down, measurable by tasks on my to-do list. Task one: try to calm Angel down. “You invited everyone over to your room,” I remind him in a measured voice. “Everyone’s missing you.”
He looks from me to Zach to Jon and plants his feet apart. “I spend all day, every day, with you three,” he says in a rush. “No one else. Aren’t I allowed to have some fun with some friends sometimes? Can’t I have that?”
“Of course you can,” Zach says. “That’s what we’re saying. All your friends are in your room, waiting for you.”
“They’re not my friends. Lina is my friend. And Lina and I want to explore Berlin. You know, given I traveled five thousand fucking miles and haven’t seen any of Europe.”
“We know,” I say, stepping forward. Angel takes another step back. His knees are slightly bent, like he’s poised to run. “It’s shit. It’s totally bullshit. Maybe we should ask for a meeting with Erin, see if we can—”
“You two,” Angel cries, interrupting me, “already went out. You’ve been having fun. And you won’t let me do it? What makes you so special?”
“Angel, people are looking,” Jon pleads. And they are. We’ve attracted the full attention of several people on the street, as well as some people drinking in front of cafés. A few phones are already out.
Angel throws his arms to the side. “Let them look, Jon! You’re so fucking preoccupied with what people think of us. Relax, pull the goddamn stick out your ass, please.”
“He’s worried about us, not himself,” I cut in with a firm voice. “You’re embarrassing all of us right now.”
“Oh, now I’m an embarrassment, Lina,” Angel shouts. “I’m the only one of us who doesn’t act like a goddamn robot, and I’m an embarrassment! Oh, Geoff says I have to make people wanna fuck me, so I’ll strip. Geoff says I can’t write my own music, so I’ll write his music. Geoff says I can’t tell anyone about our secret—”
“Angel,” Zach cries.
“GOD-FUCKING-DAMNIT, ZACH,” Angel roars. “I LITERALLY JUST TOLD YOU I WOULDN’T TELL ANYONE. Why do you all think I’m an idiot?”
There’s about two dozen phones, now. And down the street, there are people running toward us. A lot of them look like young girls.
Shit.
They’ll be on us in a minute or less. Word spreads fast.
“Jon,” I say under my breath. “I think you can call Keegan now.”
“You think?” he hisses.
Zach’s spotted the approaching hordes. “Angel, we’ve got to go,” he says.
They’re calling our names. Screaming our names, really. Louder, and louder, as they get closer. Our onlookers turn from the girls to us, putting two and two together. More phones are whipped out, like a ripple. The lights glow brighter and brighter until I feel like I need to squeeze my eyes shut before my vision closes in.
Zach steps forward, arm outstretched, and that’s a step too far for Angel. With a strangled noise that doesn’t sound quite human, Angel grabs Lina’s arm and breaks into a sprint, launching onto the road.
Time slows down even further. Headlights flash in the distance. Far enough away that Angel and Lina can make it across both lanes. Just. But then Zach moves. Darts forward to chase Angel.
The headlights are too close for him to make it.
I don’t make the decision to move. But I move.
I grab Zach in a bear hug and wrench him back onto the pedestrian strip. Headlights flash, and horns blare, and they’re screaming our names. They’re screaming for Angel. I think I’m screaming, too.
Zach and I stumble together, and I catch us before we hit the ground.
Finally, time catches back up.
“Jesus, Zach,” I’m shouting, still gripping him. “Watch what you’re doing!”
Angel’s made it to the other side of the street. He falters, as he realizes there are fans closing in from both ends of the street. Lina is looking around at the cameras like a cornered rabbit searching for an escape route that doesn’t exist.
I remember when the sight of that many photographers freaked me out, too. Now they only worry me if they’re recording, oh, a heated argument between our group, in the middle of the night, while one of us is obviously off his face and getting dangerously close to publicly defaming our management team. That would be the sort of contract breach that’d see us bankrupt in a finger’s snap.
One of the blinding headlights pulls to the side of the road, beside Angel. My heart jumps into my chest as I let Zach go. Is it a fan? Or someone who knows who Angel is, and also knows how much money he can get if he pulls him into his car? It probably wouldn’t be a difficult feat with Angel in this state.
But the driver steps out, and I almost pass out with relief. It’s Keegan.