She hadn't talked to him for four days. After their show in Phoenix, all of girlcrush decided to take the night off and head back to the buses while the boys split up immediately. Ambrose made the point of staying with Sky for the night and the following day of travel to Colorado, and Jude avoided Ezra at all costs. The guitarist had been giving him the cold shoulder ever since he found out Ezra had disobeyed orders while Jude had followed them.

He still expected to see Billie while giving her the space she needed, but she remained elusive during their next stop. In fact, the only time he was able to catch a glimpse of her was when she was out on stage singing. He couldn't stay in the wings for long, though, with her soft, sultry voice nearly breaking his heart.

So, instead, Ezra spent a majority of his time in Colorado getting high and making calls to his team in an attempt to try and dig him and her out of this hole. No one seemed to mind the way he had withdrawn himself from the public eye by hiding out in his tour bus. Time began to morph slowly while they traveled up to Saint Paul, Minnesota.

Ezra, by this point, was inconsolable. He hadn't attempted to reach out to Billie out of fear he'd scare her away. He needed to give her this time, but he couldn't help but wonder what space would do to them. Perhaps she'd clear her head and realize Ezra Moore was no good for her or her career. That thought alone causes him to swallow a few more pills and await for the show the following evening.

He was woken up around two in the afternoon with a throbbing headache. Jeff had coaxed him out of bed with a coffee and cigarette, to which Ezra begrudgingly obliged. Skipping out on soundcheck, he hid on the roof of the venue in an attempt to clear his mind. Waiting to hear from Billie felt like a weight on his chest he couldn't quite shake, and all the terrible things he felt about himself began to cloud his mind.

He wasn't good for her or capable of loving. She was smart for running far away from him. Even if she was willing to give their relationship a chance, that voicemail and all the trauma it contained would ruin it anyways.

The show began and ended in a blur. Ezra couldn't really even remember performing. All he could see was those green eyes refusing to look at him as he passed by her on his way out to the stage. Suddenly, all the songs he was singing felt meaningless unless they were about her.

None of them were, though. The ones about Billie remained trapped in his mind or scribbled in an old notebook for no one to see or hear. He wouldn't put her out on display like he'd done for Madison. He refused to mock the relationship he'd cultivated with inadequate lyrics. No words would do justice in explaining the depth of his emotions for Billie Fields.

When they complete their set, Ezra makes a point of pushing past his bandmates and the crowd of crew members towards the back exit of the venue. He couldn't stand to see Billie in the green room after another dismissal. Besides, he destroyed any connection the two bands had with each other, leaving only room for awkward greetings before the two groups separated for the night.

His fingertips pull on the bus door, a soft groan leaving his lips as he moves for the liquor cabinet. He reaches for a bottle of amber liquid before swinging towards the direction of the couch. His heart nearly stops when he's greeted by a familiar brunette. She's looking at him with such intensity that Ezra cannot tell if she's real or not. Perhaps he's hallucinating.

"Are you really gonna stand there and say nothing?" She spits, and Ezra's grip on the bottle loosens. It slips from his grasp and falls to the carpeted floor. Thankfully, it doesn't shatter and, instead, rolls underneath a chair.

"Madison," he breathes, voice hoarse and withered.

"Keep going," she demands, arms crossed over her chest.

"What ... what are you doing here?" His attention falls to the stack of papers placed on the table beside her, which he only assumes is the contract she hasn't signed.

"You know what I'm doing here," she insists, "Try harder."

"You flew out all this way to see me beg for you to sign that damn thing," he adds exasperatedly while pointing to the papers, feet unwilling to bring himself any closer to her.

"I happened to be in town for promos," she explains, but Ezra isn't stupid enough to believe her. "The album releases tomorrow."

"Right," he croaks, "So, why don't you just tell me what you want me to say so you can sign and get the fuck out of my bus?"

"I don't want you to say anything, Ezra," she assures with a snicker, "I just want to understand what kind of fool you think I am. More importantly, what kind of fool you think this new girl of yours is, too."

"There's no girl," he lies, "Don't tell me you believe everything TMZ posts."

"When it comes to you, I do."

"So, that's what this is about? You're jealous that I went out in public with some girl. What's so special about this one, huh? Were the other ones not that threatening to you?"

"Don't make me laugh," she warns, "I don't feel threatened by any of your whores. I'm the one you sing about, I'm the one you need to think about to get off."

"Are you that fucking desperate?" He questions with a dry laugh and disappointed shake of his head.

"I'm just repeating what you've told me," she mocks.

"Addicts are compulsive liars," he corrects, "You should know better to believe anything I say."

"Does she know that?" Madison questions with a raise of her brow, "Or have you been able to hide that nasty habit of yours well enough for her to pretend it doesn't exist?"

"I'm doing a lot better, actually. I know you were worried sick about me," he retorts.

"I've spent enough of my time worrying about you," she assures, "But eventually I came to terms with the fact that you will never get clean."

"That's quite the pep talk," he laughs before his tone grows serious, "Now, sign the fucking papers."

"Not until you admit that the only reason you want me to is so that you can hide what happened from her," she demands, and Ezra can feel his stomach twist. "You didn't give a damn what I did with that voicemail until she came along."

"I had a change of heart. Turns out I don't want the entire world knowing about my overdose," he states dryly. It's the first time he's said the word outright, and something inside him crumbles.

"The only people who are going to know the weight of that voicemail are the ones who were there that night," she assures, "Your team did an excellent job covering up any trace of it. So, lie a little bit better if you want me to believe you."

"That voicemail is personal, Madison," he croaks, "You know damn well that putting it out for everyone to hear will destroy me. I'm not talking about my career or relationship or anything else but me. Why do you not get that?"

"You haven't hit your rock bottom yet," she points out, "Otherwise, you would've checked yourself into rehab and got clean. Have you even tried to stop after that night?"

Ezra scoffs, fingertips instinctively pinching at his nose. "You don't know a goddamn thing about me."

"Really?" She questions, "You're high right now, and you have the fucking nerve to tell me I don't know you." Ezra stands there in silence, eyes burning into hers. "Does she know?" The words come out slow and stern, as if it's her final time asking.

Ezra shakes his head reluctantly. "No," he replies, "She doesn't."

"Do you plan on telling her or are you going to fuck up another girl's life all because of your selfishness?"

Ezra can feel his eyes water. Had he ruined everything for Madison, and would he do it again with Billie? He's not sure. "I don't know," he croaks, "I just wanted it to be different."

"Different from what? All the hell you put me through?" She questions, tone cracking, "She got a cutesy ice cream date. You remember what I got three years ago on your birthday? Do you?" Her tone raises and he nearly flinches. "I got the lovely scene of you fucking some other girl in our bed. Our bed, Ezra."

"I'm sorry that I wasn't the man I should've been. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to be better for someone else."

"You're still a lying son of a bitch!" She yells as tears begin to prick her eyes, "You're trying to get rid of this voicemail so she doesn't have to know what kind of a shit person you are. And the worst fucking part is you want me to live with it so you can go play pretend with her."

"Why are you so intent on destroying me?" He rasps, "Haven't we done enough of that to each other? I'm tired, Madison. So fucking tired. I can't do this with you anymore."

"I'm tired too, Ezra. So fucking tired. All I ever did was love and try to fix you. But you wouldn't let me," she laments, "And now you want to fix yourself for someone else. Do you know how that feels?"

He shakes his head, and for once, Ezra swallows his pride. He wouldn't let her ruin things between him and Billie. He couldn't lose Billie, not when there's a chance she'd still want him when the dust settled. He moves towards Madison until he's standing right in front of her, and Ezra falls to his knees.

"Please," he begs, "Please don't release the voicemail. I am sorry for everything that I did to you, and I don't want to hurt you anymore. Just please, don't do this to me."

He's looking up at her with pleading eyes, and Ezra reaches for her hands while still kneeling. "Please, Madison. Sign the papers, and give us both a chance to be happy."

Madison is blinking at him, lips parted to respond before the bus door pushes open.

"Ezra!" Billie exclaims with an excited tone, "You'll never believe it. The investor —" Her words taper off as her eyes fall upon the sight of him on his knees with his hands grasping Madison's. For a moment, she stands there like a deer caught in headlights, and Ezra's heart cracks.

He scrambles to get up off the floor, fingertips pulling away from Madison, while she still clings on to his. "Billie," he breathes, and the name feels foreign in his mouth. "I was just —" He begins, but she's quick to interrupt.

"Sorry," she manages to get out while backing towards the door, "I should've knocked. I'm just gonna ... go."

"Billie, wait," he breathes, trying to rack his muddled brain with a way to explain what she's just witnessed.

"We're almost finished here," Madison interjects with a devilish grin, "Aren't we, baby?" Ezra nearly cringes at the nickname, attention turning to his ex while the bus door slams shut.

"You're unbelievable," he seethes, before moving towards the door.

"If you choose to leave right now, then you can forget me signing this contract," she threatens, "and that song will be released with other ones tomorrow."

"Your threats don't work anymore," he assures through gritted teeth as he white knuckles the handle of the door, "Voicemail or not, I choose her."

As he steps out of the bus, Ezra can feel an immense weight lifted from his shoulders. It's as if he's finally free of Madison Hart and all the ties that bind them. He wouldn't let fear consume him any longer. Come what may of that voicemail, he would tell Billie the truth. He wouldn't lie any longer.

He just hopes he isn't too late.