e screen the moment she stepped off the bus. Her finger

ers Creative Residency

Layla cooked up. But the sender was legit. The contract was attached. There

t even au

And somehow, Harper Lane-broke, unknown, w

collapsing career. The public wanted a scandal. The label wanted sales. The PR team wanted to light a f

heir charisma and chemistry. But Harper? Layla had lied. Told them Harp

w, it

t hear the train's whistle as it pulled into the station. It was a grimy, cramped platform, just another forgott

her way to

her girls-more confident, better dressed, and with fancier smiles than hers. What did she have? A broken past, a ragged note

ing in her hand and a ticket to Eli R

ide blurred past, Harper tried to gather her thoughts, but the rhythm of the train had a way of quieting everything else. No d

of orange and purple. The light was kind of beautiful, almost like the beginning of a new chapter.The town of Blackridge Hills was polished and quiet, like it had been made fo

Her name didn't belo

an nodded. "Ms. Lane, we

ys forward, the only sound the soft hum of the engine as they cut through the city and into a quieter, more secluded area. They pa

ll she could do was

't just big. It

never known dust, and the air smelled faintly of white roses and money. Too much money.The driver opened the door. Harper s

m PR-was talking into her earpiece while typing rapidly on a tablet. When she noticed Harper still lingering by the door, she gestured impatiently to woman with a c

t the polished floor.You're in Room 8, East Wing. Orientation

ass, revealing manicured gardens and a pool shaped like a musical note. The other half were filled w

o... congratulations. Mr. River

oat dried. "

t night. Said it was the only on

g her forward, but her brain had stalled somewh

ng bathroom. Harper stood in front of the mirror, trying to make sense of her reflection. Her curls were half-tamed, her boots still

n't time

acket and hurried down th

rong turn. T

ing her steps and trying not to look suspiciou

f the hall. Out of desperation, Harper bolted

it!" she

d out to sto

ped in-t

as r

glasses on. Even hidden like that, she knew him instantly. The jaw

aned against the wall, music

od very, v

o not speak. Do n

ith a soft hiss, and then-i

hts fli

ed, panic rising. Of course

one earbud.

han it sounded in interviews. Rough

en. Kind of hard to

ing. Then sighed, like th

d. "They really nee

e stre

her welcome fold

at her. "You one of

her voice might cra

out a han

ok it. Warm. Solid. D

much," he said,

ing not to say s

into a crooked gri

groaned again

he wall. "You here for th

I didn't audition, actually.

ued. "So you're t

t skippe

he writing. I read two lines and knew it. You weren't writing a chara

s breat

lightly behind the sunglasses, "wasn't flatte

think you'

. "I almost didn't

again, this

ck in an elevator

shook h

you're in for a re

cky

e. Then-finally-a buzz sounded.

ed, a panicked staf

ne! We're so sorry,

off. "Happens

n the elevator frame. "See you

ed. "How

mple. "I read be

n he wa

hall, folder clutched to her

icially collide

wasn't sure sh