Brandon's POV
Something was wrong.
I felt it the moment I saw Chloe backstage.
The feeling clung to me like an itch beneath my skin, impossible to ignore no matter how hard I tried.
But I couldn't place it.
Every time I thought I had figured it out, the answer slipped through my fingers.
"Brandon!"
Mr. Pat's voice snapped me back to reality.
I looked up.
Our manager stood near the stage entrance looking like he was seconds away from a heart attack.
"Where the hell have you been?" he barked.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"Just checking on something."
"Well stop checking on things and get your ass ready. We open in two minutes."
I nodded immediately.
"Sorry."
The tension backstage was electric.
Crew members rushed around with headsets.
Designers adjusted outfits.
Models lined up in perfect rows.
Stage managers shouted instructions.
Cameras rolled.
Photographers crowded every available corner.
