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The old fox came to sit with me again. As I had before, I originally declined, but this time I relented sooner. After a couple weeks in the hospital by Ace's side, I'd learned that the only solace I would find would be sitting with the nurse who cared for me while the doctors cared for my mate. I felt awful for how horrible I'd been up until now. I mean, given the circumstances, it was totally understandable, but I couldn't help feeling bad for making her worry about me. I'd refused to eat anything, wouldn't sleep, I'd even yelled at her once or twice to leave me alone.

And yet here she was, combing her fingers through my bleached out hair again and reminding me how everything was going to be okay. At all protests, she reminded me that the EKG showed his pulse was steady and he was breathing on his own. He was literally just in a deep sleep. The nurse - Ophelia, I'd learned her name was - stopped stroking my hair and took my paw into hers.

"Tell me another story, sweetheart?" she asked.

Where I'd been resistant to talk to her before, I was all too happy to recount the good times for Ophelia. It took my mind off Ace's current state and took me back to the months before.

Sitting in my cage, idly strumming my guitar with my feet crossed on the keyboards before me, I am almost completely detached from the goings-on on the stage around me. One of the other two members of our crew, Veronica Tyler - better known as Vero Vice - dances around with Ace as she sings one of her personal songs, something about neon lights and coming home.

I put the piano, drums and synthesizers together, so I only needed to play the guitar for this number. I grin when Ace provides unrequested backing vocals and Vero has to cover his mouth because he can't sing. It looks like a glamourous hostage situation when the ballroom gown-clad fox gets my silly wolf in a chokehold to make him stop. I pull down my mic and mutter something about technical difficulties to the audience's amusement.

Ace finally breaks free of Vero's deathgrip and I see the wolf glance at me, mouth stapled into a manic grin by mischief. "Fine, V! Imma dance with my boy, Witch!"

Fuck.

I flail at the wolf and shake my head and mouth my protests since my microphone is still close enough for the audience to hear anything I say, but Ace would hear none of it.

Fuck.

The door to the cage is open.

Fuck.

I barely have time to shift my guitar into a wireless setup before I'm snatched out of my comfy, safe sound cage and thrown out where I can be devoured by the media. Ace continues to shout his 'Yeah!'s 'What!'s and C'mons!'s wherever appropriate in Vero's song while I stare daggers at the wolf. Ace's face remains stitched into a cartoony smile, but seeing my distress, he took charge of our impromptu dance number.

Ace leaned in close and held his mic down. "Turn the guitar track on and put this thing down." He whispered, tapping my instrument. "Now, dammit!"

I still wanted no part of this show outside my cage, but I complied. The cowardly voice in my head screamed for me to disobey - to lock myself back in the cage and work my sound equipment - but I return to the Ace, who takes my paws and swings me around before drawing me close and wrapping an arm around my back. "Now just follow me, okay?" he said, before surprising me once more.

Who'd have thought my unruly, foulmouthed, hyperactive, bipolar wolf knew how to ballroom dance? It was silly and completely out of step with Vero's song, but there it was. Ace was whirling me around across the stage and playfully bumping into the fox with the occasional "Move, bitch!"

Being outside my cage was surreal. As a member of The Headliners - our crew's formal name - I only ever really worked with my laptops and instruments surrounding me, or at the back of the stage with only my silhouette visible if I were to play an instrument for one of the other members. I do solo DJ work, but typically very far from sight. Here I was, however, dancing around Vero with Ace in front of millions of our fans.

"I think it's hot!"

"I think it's cute."

KittyMars and Vero Vice - Marielle Zo and Veronica Tyler, the other half of our crew - had predictable reactions when Ace and I explained our impromptu dance number. While the young white tiger, Mars, could hardly seem to hold still and not stare, Vero the fox elegantly tucked her hair behind her ear and shot Ace a look.

"And here I thought the two of us were supposed to be the fan-favorite pairing."

Ace shrugged and laughed. "Shit, girl, we might still have to be. I think Miles expects it."

"So much for my plans for a wedding dress." Vero said with a shrug.

"So who's the top and who's the bottom?!"

I nearly choked on the sucker in my mouth and Vero immediately chimed in. "Wayn, baby, I know this human on YouTube who does this thing with a grapefruit. Pretty sure she could give you some pointers."

"That's a little bit personal, Mars." I answered once I wasn't dying.

"I'm just trying to paint a picture! You're the top, aren't you?" she prodded. "Ace is a closet bottom, right?"

This time the wolf choked on nothing.

I shook my head, having no intention of providing color for that picture Mars wanted to paint. Ace's reaction had said enough, anyway.

"Ignoring her, what about the cameras?" Vero asked, swinging one long leg over the other. "How long's it been? Like, a week? You two could be looking at a paparazzi nightmare."

I had the answer for that one. I lied back to put my head in her lap. With my legs already slung over Ace's lap, I was completely horizontal on the couch. "Same as always. Hotel rooms on the billionth floor, decoy vehicles, et cetera." Vero raised a brow at my response. "V, Ace is a... free spirit when he drinks. How come no nudes have surfaced?"

The fox held her emerald gaze on me for a few more moments before shrugging her shoulders. "I'm just worried about what comes next, baby. If you got this under control, then have fun. Our lips are sealed, RIGHT, MARIELLE?" she growled at the tiger, who'd been suspiciously quiet, playing with her phone.

"What?! I was checking my email!"

"Last time I heard you say that, Ace and me had to start pretending to be together long enough to break up. Seven months, Marielle. Put your phone away."

While the two of them argued about the specifics of Vero and Ace's fake relationship, I couldn't help thinking more in depth about the fox's question. We were famous. Cameras were a part of our lives - especially Ace's. The idea of living under a microscope never really bothered me until now. The music industry was all about appearances and the words 'gay' and 'rapper' did not pair well. My mind began to play out how our careers could turn to dust should word of our relationship get. I found myself staring at Mars's phone and thinking of how small of pieces I could dismantle it into without tools.

"Anyway, me and Mars gotta get ready for curtain." Vero's voice brought me out of the spiraling abyss my thoughts had become and I sat up so she could move. Mars had already skipped off to do her makeup, leaving Ace and me alone with Vero. When the fox was up, she looked between the two of us and smiled. "It's about time." she said before following the tiger.

I couldn't help smiling at Ophelia's occasional 'aww' as I recounted happier times for her. The old fox found it as hysterical as our fans did when Vero tried choking Ace out. Hell, just thinking about it made me laugh for the first time in days.

"Well it's certainly lovely that your friends handled the two of you so well." She said, reaching out to take my paw. "Not many would."

That was when I was reminded of what had happened. Not many would, but one definitely didn't. My smile faded and so did hers. I looked away from her and back to Ace's unconscious body. He's breathing on his own, just in a deep sleep. He's breathing on his own, just in a deep sleep. I repeated to myself.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Ophelia said as if seeing the scene in my thoughts as it played on loop.

For a moment, I was right back in the car with my bleeding mate in my lap. I looked to my paw in hers and it was covered in blood again. Talking with her had made it easier, but Ophelia's comfort couldn't stop the memories. I cringed, but I didn't snatch away from her. I shook my head. "No, talking helps." I said, finally meeting her gray gaze again. "Not everyone did take it well. I'm pretty sure I mentioned something about 'gay' and 'rapper' not mixing."