Chapter 13
Thursday rolls around faster than expected.
Between private gigs, kids’ birthday parties, and evening performances at the restaurant, I’ve spent more time in the water than on dry land.
But that’s the reality of being a professional mermaid—part fantasy, part business.
It’s more than just glitter and smiles—it’s lugging fifty-pound tails, squeezing into wetsuits backstage, staying in shape to swim long routines, and managing bookings, invoices, and social media.
My bookings have been steady, and for once, I’m ahead instead of just staying afloat.
I’ve paid off my credit cards, and I’m finally able to set money aside for my next trip—something strategic to boost my social media presence.
The goal is to invest in a few top-tier custom tails and hit some of the most iconic beach locations in the United States I follow other pro mermaids online to track trends—new tail designs, choreography, even waterproof makeup hacks.
It’s not just about playing dress-up—it’s a brand I’m building, and every splash counts.
I’m sitting on the bench in the break room enjoying a chicken salad between performances when Chloe walks in to grab her pink seashell bra from her locker.
“Hey, Chloe. Thanks again for covering my shift the other weekend last minute.”
She smiles, tossing her long raven hair over her shoulder. “Happy to. Alice said something about a trip to Vegas with a hot guy?” she asks, watching me with her steely green eyes, wanting me to spill the tea.
“Yeah,” I nervously chuckle and take a bite of my chicken salad. “He invited me to see a concert. It was a blast.”
“Sweet.” She tucks her pink bra gently into her bag. “Rachel, me, and some other mergirls were thinking about going to the Mermaid Con in Maryland that’s coming up. Do you wanna join? We can all share a hotel room.”
I take another bite, chewing slowly to buy a few extra seconds.
Chloe’s the same age as me and has been a mermaid for three years.
She’s talented, even landed a commercial for sunscreen a few months ago.
Sometimes we perform in the same shows. Rachel’s about three years younger than both of us and still fairly new.
She passed her deep dive certification just six months ago.
Part of me knows I should be more social with the other mermaids and make more of an effort to connect with them, to be part of the team.
But deep down, I’m focused on my solo career—and it’s hard not to see them as competition.
After taking a sip of water, I reply, “Thanks for the invite. But I need to check my calendar.” A polite way of saying no thank you.
She scratches the purple octopus tattoo on her left forearm. “No worries. Just let me know if your schedule clears up.”
As Chloe walks out, Alice breezes in, smelling of violets and vodka.
“Shouldn’t that be tuna?” she mocks, opening her locker and grabbing an apple to snack on.
“Don’t start.” I point my fork at her.
She sits beside me and takes a giant bite out of her apple.
“Can you not chew like a horse? Geez.” I flick a piece of apple that landed on my leg to the floor.
She swallows, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “What bit your ass today?”
I scoop another bite of chicken salad onto a cracker and sigh. “I’m sorry. I like being busy, and all these events mean my name is getting out there, but it also means no sleep.” I shove food in my mouth before saying more.
Alice bumps her shoulder against mine. “I hear you, girl. Respect for all this hard work you’re doing.”
“How are you and Emily?”
Alice turns her apple and sinks her teeth into its red skin, but doesn’t bite down. “It’s complicated. We’re too alike.”
“Dating yourself can be exhausting.” I squeeze her thigh. “I think you two are cute together.”
Alice shrugs, losing interest in the apple, and drops it into her lap. “There’s no argument there. Did you see the pics I posted? We’re gorgeous.” She adjusts the arrow ring around her middle finger. “I just don’t want to lose our spark if we get serious. You know?”
“Yeah.” I give her a side hug. “It’s fun to hook up and fool around, but sometimes the heart does want to settle and focus on one person.”
She leans her head against my shoulder, scrolling through her phone. The words between us trail off, as if the air’s been sucked out of the conversation, leaving it suspended in awkward silence.
Suddenly, Alice sits up so fast it makes my heart leap. She covers her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide as saucers.
“Listen to this,” she says in a sing-song voice. Her lips curl in a mischievous smirk. “Playing my guitar on the beach while missing my girl.” She shows me a picture of Sully with a red wooden guitar on his lap staring out over the ocean.
A sinking feeling takes over as if the bench suddenly turned into quicksand and is swallowing me whole. “He could be talking about anyone.” I pop the last bite of cracker into my mouth and stand, hoping to avoid seeing Sully’s gorgeous face anymore.
But I’ve been avoiding him. The week’s almost over, and I still haven’t replied to him.
“I don’t know. People are commenting, asking who the mystery girl is, and he’s replying.
In one, he writes, I might not have known her long, but she’s the type of person who just fits into my life.
Like she belonged there all along, and now the puzzle is complete.
Now I sound cliché. And in another, he talks about your eyes.
Evergreen eyes stare back at me. Full of secrets and sorrow, yet sparkle brighter than the most priceless jade when she laughs.
He’s pouring his heart out on social media.
Kinda sounds like a Hallmark card, but he’s trying. ”
The floor beneath me seems to drop, as if everything around me is shifting out of place. My phone buzzes, cutting through the chaos of thoughts spiraling in my mind.
Dinner tonight? I can pick you up. Promise not to bite. Unless you want me to.
Arthur enters the room and tosses a thumb over his shoulder. “You ready? The crowd is getting restless.”
I have to work late. Sorry.
Where do you work? I can meet you there.
I bite my lip, feeling a little mischievous.
Wouldn’t you like to know?
I lock my phone inside my locker. “See you out there,” I say to Alice and climb the stairs to the top of the tank.
She waves half-heartedly. “Yeah…see ya.”
Tonight, I’m wearing my midnight blue tail that lights up. I do a quick breathing exercise before diving in and giving the people what they want.
When the curtains part and the lights turn on inside the water tank, I swim out from behind the rocks. As I do my routine, I wave to amazed customers and blow the occasional bubble kisses.
A couple is having a romantic dinner with a candle in the center of their table. I swim over to them and interact. The woman smiles and waves. After doing a backflip, I motion to the man who’s now on his knee proposing. I draw a heart with my hands when she nods yes.
With everyone clapping for the happy couple, I take a moment to hide behind seaweed and take a few breaths from my oxygen mask. The diver gives me a thumbs up and I give him one in return.
As I swim out, someone catches my eye at a table in the corner of the tank. My heart thunders in my skull as the man looks a lot like Sully, but that’s impossible. I never told him where I work.
But when I press myself to the glass, he smiles at me and I could never mistake those blue eyes. It is Sully! And he’s holding his phone up.
Is he…is he recording my show?
I flick my fins and twist to face away from him. What the hell? I need to remain calm.
Just focus on the show. With that advice, I swim in circles and twirl. But when I do another lap, he’s still there, smiling.
The tables have turned. Just a week ago, I was filming Sully killing it on stage with his bass guitar, and now he’s behind the camera filming me swim.
A provocative thought slips into my mind, distracting and tempting. I beckon him closer and press my forehead to the glass. He moves forward, zooming in on me. I do a backflip, letting my hair float wildly behind me. I wink at the camera and swim away, surfacing for a breath and a short break.
I’m giddy thinking about my video in his media library, and later, we can exchange autographed pictures. I laugh at myself. Maybe having this fling last longer than a weekend isn’t so bad.
Arthur scoops me up and carries me to the meet and greet like we do almost every night. My fins sway as Arthur cradles me against his chest. I gather my hair and rest it over my left shoulder to keep it from getting tangled in his gold chain necklace.
“My daughter hasn’t stopped talking about you giving her a private lesson. She keeps telling her friends how her dad’s friends with a mermaid,” he chuckles, smiling like a proud papa.
“Awe, that’s precious.” I place a hand over my heart. “She’s a natural. Maybe in a few years, she can be my trainee.”
He lifts a brow. “There’s no way I can afford those fancy tails. Don’t get my girl hooked.” His laughter is deep, making his chest rumble.
When he turns the corner and the kids spot me, they gasp and giggle. I turn on my Disney princess voice and prepare myself to answer all their burning questions.
“Can I touch your tail?” A little red-headed girl, around six, asks, already reaching out to touch my fins.
“Of course,” I say with a friendly smile, flopping my tail closer.
Ten hands shoot out. Some are brave and pet my tail like they would a dolphin. Others are shy and keep jerking their hand away as if they’re about to touch a snapping turtle.
“How can you live out of the ocean?” A boy with wild blond curls asks.
I brush a piece of hair out of my face and say, “Mermaids have a special ability to stay out of water for a little while.”