Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 104448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
And now here I was, on the floor, face swamped with tears of exhaustion, fear, and a desperate, bone-deep need to go home and see my family.
To forget that someone had touched me without my knowledge. Had managed to pull aside my shirt and ink my skin. Had tried sending me a message of some kind without explaining what the fucking point was.
I let out a shaky breath and tried to get control of my emotions.
I was the king of good fortune, I knew that.
In the grand scheme of things, my current hardships were small potatoes, and I had no right to complain.
Not only was I a megastar, one of the rare unicorns who’d dreamed of being a rock star and had actually made it happen, but I was also part of an incredible family, a priceless brotherhood of lifelong friends, and a rags-to-riches story even before I’d started my music career.
My life was comfortable and easy. I was living my dream. And by living my own dream, I was able to help others reach theirs. That was a privilege as well as a responsibility.
So yeah, I was Mr. fucking Fine, as Ryan called me. And I damn well should be.
I damn well had to be.
Too many people were counting on me for me to be anything else.
So even if I was scared, even if I was freaked-out and violated and outraged and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball under the covers, I was going to remind myself of how freaking lucky I was. Then, I was gonna smile and get on with the show.
And I did…
Until the emails started.