I bury my face into his shoulder, every instinct screaming to hide. The lights from their cameras flash brightly through my closed eyelids. Finally, we seem to make some progress. I hear other voices shouting, ordering the throng away. Security from the hotel must have figured out what’s going on and come to help. They manage to hold back the reporters, forming a path for us to reach the door.
“Daisy, one picture!”
“Daisy, how do you feel?”
“Daisy, do you feel responsible for this?”
“Has Daltrey seen the pictures?”
With one final push from Levi, I’m inside the lobby. The noise from outside immediately fades a bit when the glass doors close behind us. I hear the remaining security guards yelling that everyone needs to back off, that they’re trespassing, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
I peek out from Levi’s chest and see the desk staff and several guests staring at us. I close my eyes again and allow Levi to lead me to the elevators.
“Okay, Daisy,” Levi whispers into my hair. “It’s okay.”
I hear a ping and open my eyes as I’m pulled into the elevator.
The guards come with us. “Are you okay?” one asks.
I nod, burying my face into Levi’s shirt again. I take deep breaths, the familiar smell of him washing over me, calming me slightly.
“What the hell was that?” Levi asks the guards.
“I have no idea. The crowd out there was bigger than normal, but I figured it was because it was the last show. We didn’t hear anything from the band indicating we should be on higher alert. We weren’t expecting any of you to be back for a while.”
“There was an arrest tonight,” Levi says, his voice soft as if he can stop me from hearing it. “One of the band members. We came back early.”
“If someone would have called,” the guard says, sounding upset, “we would have—”
“I’m sorry,” Levi tells him. “Don’t worry. None of this is your fault.”
“Can we expect more of the same when the band gets back? We have a call in to the police.”
“I’ll tell the band manager to call,” Levi responds.
The doors open with another ping. I need to get off this elevator, away from these security guards. I can’t hear any more of this, can’t think about what’s happening. I just need to get away. I pull away from Levi and rush down the hall to my room, fumbling with my key.
He catches up to me just as I manage to get the door open. “Daisy—”
“Leave me alone, Levi.”
“Yeah, right,” he mutters, following me into my room.
I collapse on the couch, my head in my hands. The reporters’ words are chasing each other through my brain on a constant loop. They know. They know about all of it: that I’m the reason Daltrey got into that fight, that I spent time in a mental hospital. Did Daltrey see the pictures?
“Oh, God,” I moan. If they know about the pictures, does that mean they found them? Are they going to be published? Will everyone see?
I thought that the worst thing that could happen to me was for the kids at my high school to see those pictures, pass them around, and put them all over the Internet. But that is far from the worst thing. Because this is a completely different level. National entertainment reporters. Magazines. Websites.
“I’m going to be sick!” I barely make it into the bathroom in time. I kneel in front of the toilet and empty the contents of my stomach.
Levi crouches beside me, holding my hair back and rubbing my back. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. “It’s going to be okay.”
I can’t even argue with him. I continue to dry heave long after my stomach is empty. I know I should get up and call my dad, let him know what’s going on. The pictures are supposed to be sealed. Maybe there’s something his lawyer can do to stop all this before it gets out of control.
Before it gets out of control. As if we’re not already miles past that point. I let out a strangled laugh and raise my head. Levi looks at me as if he’s worried for my sanity.
I shake my head. “Sorry.”
“What can I get you? Sprite? Juice?”
“Sprite would be great.”
He rushes out into the main room, and I lean back against the tub, wiping my mouth.
Levi returns, Sprite in hand. “Here you go.” He grabs a tissue from the counter and sinks down to the floor, handing me the tissue then the glass.
“Thank you, Levi.”
He sits next to me while I carefully sip the soda. My breathing is still way too fast, so fast the room is spinning. I know from experience that I’m in danger of fainting if I can’t calm down. I concentrate on taking slow and steady sips with deep breaths in between, trying to keep my mind empty and blank.