Page 85 of The Ex Factor

‘And you told me you were completely over Elena!’ Toby rounded on Jax, his voice cracking slightly. ‘We talked about a mini-break in Venice!’

‘You talked about the mini-break, and I know full well if I didn’t go, she would be,’ Jax said, jerking a thumb at Elena. ‘But that is completely beside the point. The point is this: we are a logistical nightmare.’

‘I’m perfectly happy,’ Elena said. ‘It’s you two being the drama queens.’

‘You sent me a picture of my toothbrush the other day and told me to leave Jax alone,’ Toby pointed out. He turned to Jax with fear in his eyes. ‘The threat was implied.’

‘Look at us!’ Jax gestured wildly between the three of them. ‘None of us belong together! In no shape or form does any of this work.’

Ashley watched them from the mirror, her head throbbing. ‘Can you three please schedule your polyamorous collapse for after the encore?’

‘No,’ Toby said. ‘Because I love them.’

‘Who?’ Ashley asked, though she was well past caring.

‘Everyone.’

‘You love drama,’ Jax corrected calmly. ‘Which is why, as of right now, all romantic, sexual, and semi-emotional ties between the three of us are officially severed. We are a band. That’s it. If anyone tries to kiss anyone after the gig, I am throwing them into the crowd.’

Elena huffed, crossing her arms and turning her back. ‘Fine. You can have him.’

Jax tutted. ‘I don’t bloody want him, you nutjob!’

Toby’s shoulders slumped.

‘Because you want me?’ Elena asked, turning back.

‘NO!’ Jax roared.

Toby looked at Elena, a question in his eyes.

Elena considered, then smiled. ‘No. This is boring now.’

Toby shook his head. ‘I’m so fucking sick of this. It’s over.’

‘Yes, we know,’ Jax said, exhausted.

Before Ashley could even absorb the surreal absurdity of their breakup, the green room door swung open, and Simon stepped in.

He looked, as always, polished and smug. He beamed at Ashley. ‘There she is!’ he boomed, completely oblivious to the radioactive tension vibrating off the band. ‘The energy out there is insane. Birmingham has completely sold out.’

Ashley didn’t smile. She didn’t move. ‘What are you doing here, Simon?’

‘I came in from London to give you the brilliant news in person,’ Simon said. ‘The fake-dating push with Molly worked like a dream. Spotify streams on the new single are up forty percent week-on-week. Merch sales in Manchester broke venue records. The label bosses are over the moon. They’re already talking about extending the tour into Asia next spring. After that, we’ve always talked about you breaking the US—’

Ashley stared at him. ‘No,’ she said.

Simon paused, his professional smile flickering. ‘Sorry? No to Asia? We can discuss dates—’

‘No to all of it,’ Ashley said. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was firm. Concrete, in fact.

The band was silent, but definitely watching.

‘Ash, let’s not do this now, five minutes before—’

‘I don’t give a shit, Simon,’ Ashley interrupted, stepping right into his space. ‘I don’t give a single shit about the Spotify streams, or the merch, or your fucking Asian extension.’

Simon’s eyes narrowed slightly, his corporate veneer slipping. ‘Ashley, calm down. You’re stressed. It’s tour fatigue—’