Blacklist (Beautiful Idols 2)

I guess I should be feeling more reflective, or melancholy, or something, to be ending the life I’ve lived all these years. But the truth is, tomorrow can’t come quickly enough. I’ve been waiting for this moment since the day I was born.

Though I guess I might end up missing X just the tiniest bit. I mean, he was my first after all! (Just not my first-first like he thinks ?). Though he is the first person I sort of found myself kind of caring about.

Which is another reason why it’s time to move on. I can’t waste my time on small-time boys with minuscule dreams and no future to speak of.

Besides, I’m sure it won’t be all that hard to move on.

It’s crazy to think how next time I write in here, I’ll be living an entirely different life!

? ? ?

Tommy stared at the screen long after he’d finished scrolling down it. Yeah, Madison’s diary entry was juicy—in an ambitious, starry-eyed, teenage-girl way. And it also helped to prove their theory that Madison was hiding some deep, dark secrets and that Paul, aka the Ghost, aka her fixer, had, for whatever reason, buried them for her. Still, he hoped Layla wasn’t seriously planning to post it. Though the threats she received seemed serious enough, he feared that caving in to the sender’s demands would only cause them to escalate. After all, blackmailers rarely went away quietly.

But Layla refused to involve the police, and it wasn’t like he blamed her. After Larsen had pulled them over for no other reason than to flex his muscle and show them who was boss, he agreed they couldn’t be trusted. Still, there had to be some other way to handle it—someone who could help make it all go away. Question was who?

He rubbed at his eyes, having spent the bulk of the morning trying to overcome some major sleep deprivation, thanks to the crazy events of the previous night, while fielding constant texts and phone calls from Malina, who’d booked him for a long list of meetings that would take up the better part of the upcoming week.

“And what about my job working for Ira?” he’d said, voice groggy and partially muffled by his pillow.

“Quit,” she’d replied, as though he was in any position to do that.

While it was undeniably tempting, Tommy was smart enough to know that one semi-successful gig did not a rock star make. Quitting his real job before things truly took off for him wasn’t something he could even consider. For now, his rock god dreams were primarily fueled by speculation and wishful thinking. The future was hopeful, but at the moment, it ended with a question mark, not a period.

Though when it did come time to quit, Tommy knew exactly how it would go down. The plan was to look Ira right in the eye and tell him (in the most casual voice possible) that he was about to embark on a sold-out world tour, and then, oh yeah, just so you know, I’m the long-lost son you never knew about. Got the birth certificate right here to prove it. Then, after Ira had time to review the document and adjust to the shock, he’d gaze at Tommy with eyes filled with pride and maybe even give him a dad hug.

But he wasn’t ready yet, not even close, and he’d told Malina in no uncertain terms that quitting wasn’t even negotiable.

The rest of his day was spent fighting the urge to call Layla. He missed her. Wanted to see her—like, really wanted to see her. But Layla was skittish, and any display of interest might push her away. So instead he’d worked on a new song about a snarky waif of a girl who’d cast a spell over him.

When Aster had texted and told him everyone was meeting up at her place, Tommy had readily agreed, only to discover Layla was already there, with Mateo sitting comfortably, a little too comfortably, beside her. And for the first time in his life Tommy felt the sharp sting of jealousy. Like a blunt object to the side of the head, it rocked him so off balance, he had no idea how to deal.

“So, now that you’re up to speed . . .” Aster spoke pointedly, as Tommy stared blankly. “I mean, you have finished reading it by now?”

He set the laptop on the table before him, and ran a hand over his face.

Were Layla and Mateo back together again?

Was Layla so horrified by their hookup she’d gone straight from Tommy’s bed to Mateo’s in an attempt to erase what she’d done?

Was last night really the quickest rebound in the history of rebounds?

“Just wondering what your thoughts are?” Aster shot him an annoyed look, and Tommy sat up straighter, forced himself to focus on the subject at hand.

“Uh, yeah, well, I’m not sure Layla should post that,” he said, worried for Layla’s welfare both if she did, and if she didn’t.

“Me neither.” Layla frowned and studied his face. Her look was so scrutinizing, Tommy quickly averted his gaze. “I don’t like being threatened. But I have to admit, part of me is afraid not to post it. Whoever it is has access and reach—they seem to always know where I am. This latest message was sent to me in Valentina’s hospital room! That alone changes everything. It’s one thing to threaten me, but when it extends to innocent people . . .” She paused for a moment. “Anyway, for now at least, I’m still holding out. But in the future, who knows?”

Tommy nodded, relieved to know she was taking the time to think it through, as opposed to being driven by fear, which would only lead to a reckless act that might make the situation worse. He pushed away from the couch and went to stand before the window. His emotions were all over the place, and though he was aware of Aster sighing in frustration behind him, he needed a moment to get a grip on himself.

“But what if they post it for you?” Ryan said. “You already said they hacked into your email account, so what’s to stop them from hacking into your blog and publishing whatever they want?”

Layla shrugged. “If they do, then maybe they’ll leave some sort of electronic trail that Javen might be able to trace?” She cast a hopeful glance in his direction, but Javen was too busy working to respond.

“So, what if this X guy is real?” Mateo ventured. The mere sound of his voice instantly filled Tommy with an irrational hatred he could barely contain, so he didn’t.

“So what if he is?” Tommy turned away from the window and glared at Mateo. His tone was so combative, everyone met it with a confused stare—all except for Layla, who seemed to see right through him. He looked away and sank his hands in his pockets, feeling ridiculous for being so trans

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