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fucks know nothing about you or what you’ve been through. We’ve talked about this—you were dealt a shitty hand and lost two people you loved dearly. Neither of them would want you to be playing this victim role; they’d want you to put up a fight and show these dumb asses that despite what they print, you are a young woman full of life, love, and laughter.”
    I collapsed on the couch and sighed dramatically. “What am I supposed to do, Heather?”
    “You can start with taking a shower and getting dressed. I’ve been here less than five minutes and you’re already depressing me,” she snapped, sitting down next to me. “Don’t you see you’re letting them win? You’ve already had Evie and Ash ripped from your life—you had no choice in that—but you can choose whether to allow them to take Mason and your current happiness, or to stand up and fight for him, yourself, and what you know is the truth. He loves you. He wants to be with you. He knows that you had nothing to do with what happened to them. Shouldn’t he be all that matters? Not a bunch of strangers that truly know nothing?”
    I found it hard to argue with her logic, so I said nothing. Over the next few days, Heather stayed on the bus with us as we slowly traveled down the west coast. By the third day, I’m not sure if I was convinced all of her positive mumbo-jumbo talk was true, or if I was simply tired of listening to her, but I promised her if she went home I would get back out in the public eye, let Mason back in again—emotionally and physically—and ignore all of the haters in my life.
    The morning we pulled into San Francisco, the guys left for a round of radio station interviews and photo shoots, so Heather took it upon herself to make me an appointment at a local hair salon. After I’d been shampooed, colored, cut, and styled, I really did feel like a new person. In actuality, it wasn’t a huge change from my usual look, but considering I’d been rocking a bun for quite some time, the highlights and trim provided just enough newness to put a spring in my step. After the salon, we spent a few hours shopping, and I picked up several new outfits to wear to the upcoming California concerts. I wanted to look my best for Mason, knowing that the next week was a big deal for the band as they performed their way down the California coast, especially the show at the Staples Center in Los Angeles the following Thursday.
    That night, Heather flew back to Houston, claiming that her job was done, and I surprised Mase by showing up at the concert presenting my freshly-styled locks and a sexy new dress. I’ll never forget seeing his eyes light up when he caught a glimpse of me enjoying his voice in the right wing of the stage. As soon as they finished the show, he hurried over to me and picked me up in his strong arms, twirling me around while kissing all over my face. We didn’t make it to the after-party that night; we had lost time to make up for.
    Almost instantly, Mase and I found our groove as a couple again, and by the time we crossed into Orange County, it was as if nothing had ever happened. During the first couple of days, pictures of the two of us back together out in public made a few headlines, but I avoided the media like the plague and focused on what I knew to be the truth.
    Everyone on the tour was overly-excited about the LA show. Not only did performing in the entertainment capital of the world incite an electrifying buzz, but we were staying there four days for two shows, which meant three nights in a hotel, and a day-and-a-half of free time! I couldn’t wait to soak in a bathtub, and to sprawl out naked across a big bed without worrying about other people sleeping a few feet from Mase’s and my bed.
    The first night, they played at the Staples Center, and everything about it was insane. The intensity of the crowd overpowered the massive venue, the band unveiled their new single—which the concert-goers responded wildly to,