The Girl Who Loved a Stranger
The Man in the Doorway I knew Julian Cross for eleven years. I knew him when he was a skinny kid with too-big hair and a guitar he'd bought from a pawn shop in Greenwich Village for forty dollars. I knew him when he won The Rising Star and the world decided he was a "voice for a generation"—which is what the tabloids call someone they don't know what else to call. I knew him when he fell in...
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