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he scored the James Gallagher part Jeremy Hill had a total hard-on for, he didn’t really give a shit. “They said I’d need to gain like ten, fifteen pounds of muscle.” He side-eyes the bottle. “This probably isn’t helping.”
    â€œThey always say that shit. Anyway, a little protein powder and you’re golden.”
    â€œPatchett was there, though. And Gray. And Valenti. Valenti almost beat me out last year for
History
.”
    â€œYeah, but he didn’t. Dude, you’ve gotta get a little more of an ego, or little dicks like Valenti and Hudson are gonna walk all over you. You’ve got this shit. Trust.”
    â€œDoesn’t even matter if I do. There’s no way I can work it out with the show.”
    â€œMan, you really love excuses. Isn’t it filming mostly in Imperial Valley? If you got a reduced storyline on the show and basically busted your ass, you could do it. You get a callback?”
    â€œYeah.” He takes another long drink. “Friday.”
    Ah, fuck.
So that’s the real problem; he’s gotta act his ass off the day after he sends Ally off to New York. “So, that could be cool, right? Channel your pain into some sort of war-torn PTSD shit?”
    He snorts. “Yeah, maybe.” Then he pulls out his phone. “Still no text from Van. Guess they’re still shopping.”
    â€œHey, Josh Chester!” a voice calls out from behind us. We turn, but I don’t recognize the guy coming toward us.
    â€œWho are you?” I raise my sunglasses, but I’ve definitely never seen this guy before in my life. “Are you one of the bartenders?”
    He laughs and holds out a hand. “I’m Chuck. Joe Perotti sent me.”
    Joe Perotti…
Why does that name sound so familiar?
    â€œThe reality show guy?” asks Liam.
    Motherf—
    â€œI didn’t realize you decided to do it,” Liam says slowly.
    â€œThat’s because I didn’t.” I turn back to Chuck, who’s finally figured out I won’t be touching his slimy hand. “This is a private party. Invited guests only.”
    â€œYour mother
did
invite me,” says Chuck, his stupid sleazy smile not wavering for a second. “Said this would be a great opportunity for some preliminary footage. Joe loved the idea.”
    â€œHow did my mother even
know
about it?” I ask Liam, ignoring Chuck completely.
    â€œUm, look at this place, Chester. They can probably see that light-up ice sculpture of the Empire State Building from space. Doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out you’re doing
something
here tonight.”
    â€œWell, what I’m
doing
,” I spit, half-looking at Chuck now, half-hoping he’ll just disappear if I ignore him long enough, “is throwing a party for a friend, and I’d really like for everyone who shouldn’t have gotten past security to get the hell out.”
    â€œLike I said”—Chuck grins like an asshole—“your mom set this up. And seeing as apparently this is her house…”
    â€œDon’t kid yourself, Chucky. I earn more in a fucking day of modeling than my mother earns in six months as a has-been drama queen. If she weren’t holding onto this place as tightly as humanly possible in her little ferret paws—”
    â€œOooookay.” I feel a hand on my arm and look down to see Liam pulling me away. “Chester, how many times have we discussed the fact that you cannot just say whatever the hell you feel like?” he mutters under his breath. “Guys like him live to rile you up to get footage like this.”
    â€œWell, I’m not signing a damn thing, so good luck to him if he’s got a creep filming me from somewhere.” I realize right then that I’m still holding a half-full bottle of Stella, and I chug the rest, hoping it’ll calm me down, because I know Liam’s right.
    Of course, it’s warm by