His laughter was the soundtrack of my heart. And I played it on repeat until life's streetlights flickered on and stole him away. Riot Blu. Top 40 fuckboi. Paparazzi player. Trashy reality TV trainwreck. But once upon a time, he was the boy next door. Once upon a time, he was every note in every song on every mixtape he had ever made for me. Now he's back. A lot more arrogant. A little more tortured. And more gorgeous than any memory I held dear could do justice. I know no good can come from being anywhere near him. But Seattle is only so big, and if I'm going to get the exclusive of my career, I have to swallow my pride, take that dreaded walk down memory lane and agree to his terms. Move in with him. Immerse myself in his life-the life he left me to build. And try not to fall back in love with the man who ripped my world in two.