"You don't have to do that, just stop moping and live! We're in f.u.c.king Amsterdam, man. And stop checking in with her all the time. Me and Nate, we're gonna check out the places from a couple of years ago. Now that was a great weekend!"

"I intend to. Come on." I stand, p.i.s.sed off at his goading. After talking to Tegan, I need something to fill the gap left by her absence. Plus, yeah, I'm in f.u.c.king Amsterdam.

A tall building on the outskirts of the city houses the TV studio. The twins and me grab a taxi and arrive at the allotted time; I'm impressed we manage because the world's become increasingly hazy. Once inside, I squint at the bright orange and yellow walls as the stage manager leads us to the dressing room. Will and Nate stumble along next to me, whispering.

The chick opens a door to a brightly lit room with chairs and mirrors, and disappears. Unsure what else to do, I sit on one of the four high-backed leather chairs.

In the mirror, a dishevelled guy with huge pupils looks back and I point. "f.u.c.k! Look at me!"

Will practically sticks his nose on the mirror, and casts a glance at the counter covered in bottles and tubes. "They gonna put make-up on us?"

Nate giggles. Full on giggles like a girl, and pushes through the carefully sorted box of cosmetics. He pulls out a pencil.

"Will! You would look f.u.c.king awesome in guy-liner." He splutters out another laugh.

Will s.n.a.t.c.hes the pencil off him, removes the lid, and studies the tip. "Reckon?"

"Yeah, come here."

I sink down in the seat and watch Nate's clumsy attempt to draw around Will's eyes. "f.u.c.k! Don't poke my eye out, dude." Will s.n.a.t.c.hes the pencil.

"I've only done one!"

"I'll do you." Will holds Nate's head and a few moments later, he has an uneven streak of black beneath his eyes to match.

A young woman with brown, curly hair and a ha.s.sled look walks into the room and her mouth drops as she looks at us. "You started without me?" she asks in a local accent.

"Sorry, sweetheart," smiles Will.

"Reckon you can cope with three of us?" asks Nate flicking her a suggestive smile.

The chick throws him back a look that suggests she's dealt with stars like him before. "More than capable," she retorts.

I watch in the mirror as she crosses the room and gathers sponges and a container of brown cream. Seriously, she's going to put make up on my face? I'm only playing on the show for five minutes, no interview. I hope.

The sounds in the room fade as I disappear into thoughts of Tegan, while my band mates continue their private jokes. Another woman appears, older, with the demeanour of a nanny and she soon shuts up Will and Nate. At least until one of them escapes from the chair and heads to the Green Room.

Ten minutes later, feeling as if somebody's covered my face in a layer of mud, I stumble out of the door into the hallway. The discordant noise around confuses me, the drugged feeling growing. I should've stuck with beers, at least until the show is over.

The Green Room contains three talk-show guests and the band. Including Ruby. She takes one look at me before heading over, grabbing my arm, and pulling me into a corner.

"Don't tell me you're f.u.c.king high too!" she hisses.

I blink. "What? No."

"Bulls.h.i.t. Have you seen the state of those two?"

Will and Nate lounge on a plush sofa in the corner of a room with two blonde-haired, orange-faced chicks with huge t.i.ts. A mutual appreciation society has been formed; I recognise the looks between the brothers.

"They're always like that," I reply.

"You're lucky Jem isn't here," she growls.

"It's all good, Rube."

"You f.u.c.k this up and..." She waves her hands in exasperation. "I can't believe you got stoned!"

Another guest, a middle-aged actress I recognise from minor Hollywood films, looks up in surprise. Ruby lowers her voice. "What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you, Jax?"

"All right, I'm stoned."

"No, the f.u.c.king drinking! I know you like partying but you're hardly sober these days and when you do drink, you don't know when to stop!"

"Yeah, I know, it's all good."

"No. It isn't." I focus on Ruby's face, expecting a sour look, but concern frames her features. "I'm worried."

"I'm a rock star," I say and hiccup. Ruby's face expression shifts to dismay and an idea floats across my dulled mind. "I'm not like him. I'm not taking drugs."

"Umm. You clearly are."

"No, like real drugs." I wave my hand dismissively.

"f.u.c.k, Jax," she mutters. "Just think about what you're doing."

I'm about to make a comment about her f.u.c.king her life up getting pregnant and how she has no right to lecture me about my choices, but I swallow down the words. "Yeah. 'Kay."

"Sit down and sober up. We have half an hour."

"Is there anything for us to eat?" I ask and scout the room. "Oh. Nice. Beers."

"Don't you dare! I don't care what you do later, but I don't want the band playing like s.h.i.t on live TV!"

Ruby's right. I help myself to the sandwiches on a table nearby, and slump back in my seat. When I'm with Will and Nate, my self-control takes a backseat in the interest of maximum fun. Since Tegan isn't around, and p.i.s.sed off she isn't, I launch myself too hard into the evening. Telling myself I'll be fine on TV would've worked if I'd stuck to beer, but we didn't.

Will heads over to Ruby and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "We're good. I could play 'My Kinda Disaster' in my sleep; we've performed it that much in the last few months."

"I b.l.o.o.d.y hope so!" She shrugs his arm away.

The door opens and Riley walks in, face thunderous.

"Hey, it's Smiley Riley," I call. "She's come to see her favourite boys!"

"Can I talk to the three of you?" she barks. "Out here."

Nate drops the hand he has on the blonde chick's leg and their eyes meet briefly, before Riley glances away.

"Yes, Miss!" Will stands and strides to the door.

We head after Riley and I lean against the wall in the quiet hallway, arms crossed. Riley continues to look as if her dog died. "We had a complaint from the make-up girl. Who groped her a.s.s?"

Will giggles. "Will did." He points at Nate.

I groan inwardly, here we go.

"I did not!" protests Nate.

Nate's refusal to deny he's Will ill.u.s.trates the insane direction this evening is heading.

"Somebody did!" says Riley.

I hold my hands up. "Nope. Not me."

"Wait, what? Groped whose a.s.s?" asks Will.

"The chick with the brushes and the brown c.r.a.p she put on your face." Nate rubs his brother's cheeks.

"Oh! Right. My hand slipped," says Will with a sly smile.

Riley stares at Will, cheeks turning pinker. Does she believe he's Nate? "You can't do that!"

"Why? It was an accident," replies Will.

"Sure, dude," I mutter.

"Jesus! There're plenty of girls who want my hands on them; she shouldn't have got so close!" says Will.

Curiously, Riley continues to stare at Will who leans close to her and stares back, noses almost touching. "You have to apologise," she says, not flinching.

"Whoa! Fine!" Will steps away.

Riley steps backwards too. "And you both look b.l.o.o.d.y ridiculous in eyeliner!"

I rub my head. I'm keeping my mouth shut, too drunk to deal with her in this mood.

"Now, Nate?" she says, gesturing at Will.

"Ah. Right." He loops a friendly arm across her shoulders and she flinches.

"Don't touch me!" Riley practically flings herself across the hallway to escape him.

We watch her go and I turn to Nate. "What the h.e.l.l is going on with you and her? Why did you let Riley think Will is you?"

"Nothing," he mutters. "Nothing."

"Do me a favour, don't swap ident.i.ties tonight, please. I'm confused enough."

"Dude, you know how to tell us apart."

"I'm not stripping your t-shirt off half way through the night to check your tattoos! We'll be all over the internet in a gay relationship by the time the evening ends."

Nate shakes his head. "Just ask me. I'll tell you." He inclines his head to the door. "The girls in there. They're twins too. How awesome is that?"

I groan. "Who are they?"

"Stars of some Dutch reality TV show. More importantly, up for some fun with Ruby Riot!"

Twins on twins. Nate's eyes shine and I close mine. I know the twins too well, and what they get up to sometimes. "Lucky you, your own personal p.o.r.n show. Ever think you're being set up?"

"Who cares?" He pushes open the door and heads back inside the Green Room.

31.

TEGAN.

My phone alert sounds again. I'm losing count now, p.i.s.sed off the incessant beeping finally has woken me up and isn't a random noise in my dream. I grab the phone and focus on the screen. 9 a.m..

Can't be Jax, way too early for him after his night out in Amsterdam.

I squint at the phone. Twitter alerts.

The social media poison has receded in the last day; but if the hatred is starting again, I don't want to see. The fans think Jax is fickle, obviously, and I'm no longer a threat. For now. What the h.e.l.l happens when I go back to the tour? Nope, not looking. Bad for my health. I set the phone back down and head for the shower.

By 12 p.m., Jax hasn't called and unease sets in. So far, I've refused to go online to look at his Amsterdam escapades, because the night will be doc.u.mented on there. Jax and his behaviour when he drinks plus Will plus Nate plus Amsterdam undoubtedly equals dodgy photos constructed into scandal by the gutter press. I'm not being swayed by any reports until I've spoken to him, which means I can't look.

Another Twitter alert lights up my phone, tagging me, and the unease grows. s.h.i.t, I'll regret this, but I can't hold off checking any longer.

There's a link attached to a Tweet with hundreds of shares and I click on it. Immediately a clip of the Dutch TV show appears.

There's footage of Ruby Riot lined up on a red leather sofa. The host is a guy, age indeterminate due to plastic surgery around his eyes and dyed hair, who enthuses about Ruby Riot's performance in English.

Ruby's on the opposite edge of the sofa, as far away from the host as possible, her eyes fixed on Jax who's fielding questions. Or attempting to. He lounges on the seat, one leg crossed over his knee, and arm draped over the low back. Jax with full-on rock star att.i.tude. He's blinking at the audience, smiling and running a hand through his hair in the annoyingly s.e.xy way that grabbed me the first time I saw him on stage.

Will's next to him; he and Nate are either side of a couple of blonde girls, their legs touching. A distinctly unimpressed looking actress sits next to Ruby, and their sour faces rival each other for who wants to be there the least.

Why was this was uploaded?

The host takes a handheld mic and walks over to the eager audience. Next, he makes a big deal of choosing one of the excited members to talk to. Once full dramatic effect is achieved, he asks a question in Dutch to a breathless girl clutching a picture of Jax. I cringe for her. She responds in excited chatter and the man nods.