Seven Minutes ’til Midnight by Sunniva Dee

A legendary drummer. An outrageous music video… and little me blowing his ever-loving mind in it.
Next thing I knew, my anonymity was a thing of the past.
“Clown Irruption’s smash hit goes from hawt to adult!”— Star Report, April Edition.
The uncensored, all-bared footage was leaked.
And here I was, forced to stare down the same paparazzi lenses the band did.
“Meet Aishe Xodyar, the vixen who made Troy Armstrong reach Heaven on tape!”—Fan Chicks, May Edition.
I cowered behind enemy lines.
Aka joined the band on their worldwide arena tour.

It was another one of my unfortunate miscalculations.
See, Troy Armstrong was formidable.
We were polar opposites, but he still sucked me in like a magnet.
A fragile truce set in between us. Then, a mutual crush.
I had an obsessive nature, but my fixation on him was downright wholesome compared to their new merch girl’s.
“Meet Hailey Pawter, secret stalker, fangirl, and dangerously gifted lookalike.”—Tabloid Minute, June Edition.
As Hailey’s web tightened around us, love in the limelight turned from complicated to impossible.