Until I died.
Or at least I did in that dream. And let's be realI was on my way to the same fate in real life if I didn't wake the fuck up and clean up my act.
It took me way too long to figure out that my stepmom's five-meals-a-day routine wasn't loveit was control. That my stepsister's so-called compliments were just dressed-up insults. That my dad giving me space was just a polite way of saying he couldn't be bothered.
So I left. Moved out. Struck out on my own.
With a littleokay, a lotof help from a man who would become my mentor, my producer, my roommate.
But my boyfriend? No.
Music trumps men. Every single time.
But can I really build a life that's fulfillingwithout a loving family, without a relationship, without anyone to lean on but myself?
I guess I'm about to find out.
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