“Hi, are you Queenie?” she asked in a light French accent.

I turned to her with a smile, thinking I remembered seeing her during my set. She’d been sitting in the very front row with two other girls.

“Yes, I am,” I answered, then gestured her closer to whisper conspiratorially. “But just between you and me, that’s not really my name.”

She gave a small chuckle. “Well, just between you and me, I already knew who you were. I have no idea why I asked that. I’m just nervous.”

I warmed to her candour. “No need to be nervous, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m Reya.”

“I’m Marlene,” she replied shyly.

“Did you like the show?”

She nodded profusely. “Yes, I actually, well, I’ve been following your YouTube videos for a while now. When I saw you post that you’d be playing in Paris, I just had to come see you perform.”

Her statement took me by surprise. I often uploaded videos of my gigs to YouTube, but other than those and the odd tweet, I didn’t have much of an online presence. “Oh, really? That’s so cool.” My smile widened.

“I just wanted to let you know how much I love your songs. When I first found them it felt like . . . I can’t think of the right word in English, but it was like someone had taken all of my feelings and made them their own,” she said, gesticulating passionately.

“That’s so kind of you to say, and it means a lot to hear it.”

“When I came out to my parents, they decided they didn’t want me as their daughter anymore. When you sing about your family, it feels so vindicating to know I’m not alone,” she went on, her eyes turning glassy.

Emotion fisted my heart in a vice-like grip, and in that split second as those words tumbled out of her mouth, I strangely felt like hugging her. And now my eyes were turning glassy, too. “I’m glad,” I said in a whisper. We just stared at one another for a few moments before I asked, “Would it be weird if I hugged you?”

She shook her head, her cheeks going a little pink. “Not at all.”

So we hugged. Passers-by were probably shooting us strange looks, but I didn’t care. I was too busy feeling the moment, sharing a connection with this stranger I’d somehow touched through a few blurrily shot YouTube videos.

When we broke apart we shared a smile. Then she lifted her camera. “I, um . . . Photography is a hobby of mine and I hope you don’t mind, but I took some pictures of the show tonight. I could email them to you if you’d like? You could use them for whatever you wanted, promotional or online things.”

“Oh my goodness, yes, I’d love that,” I exclaimed.

We exchanged information, chatted a little more, and then I headed for my taxi.

The following day the group had a free morning, with filming not scheduled until the late afternoon. I slept in after my gig and took a leisurely shower. I must’ve been the last to wake up because everyone was gone by the time I left my room. Paul, James and Leanne decided to go sightseeing, while Callum took a trip to a chiropractor because he was having some trouble with his shoulder. That left only Trev, Neil and me in the apartment.

Neil sat on the couch with his computer on his lap. The door to the balcony was open and a cool morning breeze drifted in.

Deciding to make brunch, I asked Neil if he was hungry then texted Isaac to see if he wanted to come over for food.

“Where’s Trev?” I asked Neil, and he glanced up from his laptop.

“In his room, I think.”

I nodded and headed toward the bedrooms. When I reached the one he was sharing with Callum, the door was left slightly ajar. I lifted my hand to push it open, then hesitated. I could hear Trev talking inside and I didn’t want to interrupt. When I took a peek around the doorframe I saw he was on a Skype call.

“And how do you feel about the possibility of rekindling a relationship?” an older male voice asked. He sounded thoughtful but clinical, and I couldn’t think of who it might be until I remembered Trev mentioning his doctor. They’d arranged weekly online therapy sessions while he was away.

“To be honest, it’s difficult not to let my head run away with itself. When I’m around her I know I need to take things slow, but I just want to talk about everything. I want to ask how she feels, demand that she tell me where I stand. It makes me crazy not knowing.”

“Go on.”

“It’s just so difficult not to regress.”

The doctor’s voice was soothing. “When you feel that way it’s probably a good idea to take a step back. Assess the situation from a distance. Diving into things without thinking is one of your biggest issues. Not only might you scare Reya away, but you could also damage the progress you’ve made.”

I stifled a gasp when the doctor mentioned my name, my heart pounding rapidly to discover they were talking about me.

“I just want things to go back to how they were.”

“We can’t go back, Trevor, only forward. After all, you aren’t who you were back then, therefore, it can’t really be the same, can it?”

He sounded frustrated when he responded, “But that’s just the thing, doc. I am the same. Don’t get me wrong, some days I really do feel like I’ve changed, but then I have these moments of clarity. I see how brittle my progress is, how easily I can ruin it all. I’ll always be the bloke I was before, no matter how much I try. He’s a forgotten pill away, or a missed therapy session. I’m not sure I can keep living on this edge all the time. I can’t spend my entire life at war with my own head. It’s exhausting.”

The doctor was sympathetic now. “Unfortunately, there are only two options, and that is the better one. There is a consolation though, the war gets easier.”

“So, I just keep going through every day like this? That’s not how I want to live. I don’t want to give Reya this half-broken excuse for a man. I want to give her something solid and reliable. I want to give her everything she deserves.”

“This isn’t a new sentiment for you, Trevor. We spoke in depth about how you distanced yourself from her romantically during the early days of your friendship because you thought she wouldn’t be able to rely on you.”

“She wouldn’t have. Before I met Reya I’d already had a string of girlfriends and it was the same cycle every time. We got together, a few weeks went by, and they started to want a proper relationship. I couldn’t give them that, not consistently, anyway. Some days I’d feel solid and could act like the perfect boyfriend, but then other days I couldn’t focus at all. I’d get distracted and forget to call, or forget a date we’d planned. In the end they’d get so fed up with my unpredictable behaviour that they’d break it off. Or I’d get sick of their nagging and break things off myself.”