Chapter 7
I groan, stretching. I don’t know what time it is, but I must have slept for a long time, based on the light pouring in from my window directly onto my face.
A headache lingers, but I no longer have a fever.
I push myself up on my elbows, smiling. My family is home, Kai and I had fun yesterday, Mia is coming back for the holidays, and we’re having a sleepover on Monday.
Today, the centrifuge spins slowly, and all is good.
My fingers ache for the soothing touch of my piano, so I spend the next few hours texting with Shirley about the new song.
We can’t seem to agree on the violins. I think it makes the bridge more emotionally impactful, but they think it distracts from my vocals.
Maybe I should do a Live and ask my fans?
It’s been a while since I was able to talk to them in real time, and I miss it.
I crave the intimacy of my earlier days, when I’d go live and play covers while they told me about their day.
And yet, as I navigate to my social media, something gives me pause. The number of comments on one of my posts seems to have doubled overnight. A sense of dread washes over me. Did I like something by mistake again?
When I browse through a handful of comments on my latest post, they all seem to be in response to a picture Kai posted of us playing board games last night. He tagged me, as per my label’s request.
sasshaaaaaa YOU GUYS ARE THE BLUEPRINT
sashaissopretty SCREAMS INTO THE VOID
sashaplsnoticemesenpai how long have you been dating? who made the first move?
kassyismyotp THE WAY HE LOOKS AT YOU LIKE YOU HUNG THE MOON AND THE STARS … I CAN’T!
sashanationbrasil COME TO brAZIL!
sassysbellybuttonpiercing you guys are so CUTE and i’m SO SINGLE
A tinge of self-hatred simmers beneath my skin.
Their comments are well intentioned, but it’s a lot to take in.
I don’t like that I’m contributing to the idea that life is better when you’re in love.
But it’s only for six months, I remind myself, and then I’ll be free.
Kai and I will “break up” amicably, and my music will just be my music again.
For now, however, I guess Kai and I have officially hard-launched.
My fans are into it—a few are a little too into it, I decide, when someone sends me a DM with an AI picture of what our six (huh?) children would look like.
I’m about to close out the app when another DM catches my eye. I can’t read them all, but I like to leave them open in case anyone wants to reach out privately.
@SASHAWORLDDOMINATION
hii! i just wanna say thank you. ur music is one of the reasons i’m alive today.
Oh.
I pause as the message sinks in. I— There must be a mistake. Has my music really helped someone like that? Me?
A blend of gratitude and responsibility crashes over me as I type a reply.
Moments like these remind me why I share my songs.
It almost makes it all worth it—the lies, the fake relationship, the person I pretend to be for them.
If I … or well, Sassy—if Sassy can touch someone on such a deep level, then it’s all worth it.
Marissa’s name obscures the screen before I can respond. She’s calling. With a sigh, I answer.
“Good morning!” she says. She tells me how happy my label is that Kai posted about us, and then adds, “Guess who got you a small part on the new season of Friday, the Netflix show.”
I bolt upright. “No fucking way.”
Friday is a popular YA show that combines dark academia with elements of fantasy and horror. Mia and I binged the entire first season last year over FaceTime.
“And the best part is that it films in London for two weeks! You leave on Monday.”
“What?” My body turns cold. Monday? That’s in two days. Wait, what does she mean I leave on Monday? I was supposed to have time off, and Mia and I were going to have a sleepover. I mean, this is great, but my family just got back and I can finally rest here and—
“You don’t seem excited,” Marissa deadpans.
“I am. I’m just in shock. I mean, my family just came back. I wanted to spend some time with them … Let me think about it?”
“Think about it?” Marissa sighs. I hate that I can hear the disappointment in her voice.
“Sasha, I worked my ass off for this. It’s a great opportunity to branch out, and to be known for something other than your music and your relationship, like you wanted.
And, you know, it’s your favorite show. I thought you’d be happy. ”
“I am.” I think. I love the show, and I’ve always wanted to meet Rosa, the actress who plays the lead, and Asher, who plays the golden-retriever love interest. Most of all, I’d love to meet the writers so I can bribe them into telling me what happens after the first season’s cliffhanger.
“You can bring Kai. You should bring Kai, actually. You two will have plenty of time to sightsee, too. It’ll be great for PR. I bet he’d love to travel. You’d be doing him a favor.”
“I—” The room spins around me. “I’ll call you later.”
The echo of tires screeching against the pavement slices through the street. I take a few steps back on the sidewalk as Mia rounds the corner, her SUV narrowly avoiding a collision with a tree when she attempts to parallel park.
“Sorry I’m late!” She waves at me through the window. “LA traffic can suck my dick.”
A gentle afternoon breeze tousles my hair as a grin lights up my face.
“Don’t worry! It’s okay!” I reassure her as she hops out of the car. If there’s one thing Mia hates, it’s being late, so she’s probably stressing out. “Hola, fea.”
“?Hola, feísima!” She throws her arms open, the sunlight casting a warm glow on her face. I jump into her arms, and she squeezes me. “I’ve missed you, Sash.”
“Me too, Mimi.” I hold her tight. Neither of us lets go. It’s strange. There was a time when being apart for more than a week felt like an eternity. Now it’s been months.
“Are you ready?”
“I’m starving!” I race her to the car. Mia and I started this tradition of getting pizza and driving to the beach to watch the sunset when she first got her license.
The day she found out she was going to college in New York, I’d taken her to Santa Monica to ease her nerves.
She screamed when she opened the acceptance email, and we both jumped into the water with all our clothes on.
We catch up while she drives, browsing through each other’s playlists and singing at the top of our lungs.
She tells me about the classes she’s taking and her internship, and I tell her about the music I’m planning to write.
Everything is familiar—the way her car smells like her strawberry perfume, the friendship bracelet on her wrist, the duck with sunglasses I got for her dashboard that has almost melted from the sun.
And yet, those pauses on the phone have made their way into real life. Silences between us that I don’t know how to fill.
“Hey, you missed our exit,” I say when we drive past the Santa Monica sign.
“Oh, I thought we could go to the hills instead of the beach?” Mia taps her finger against the steering wheel.
“But we always go to the beach?” It’s our tradition. “I don’t mind if you want to try a new place though.”
I like the view from the mountains. The houses are also pretty to look at. When we were little, Mia and I used to pretend to be house hunters, imagining what our lives would be like if we could actually afford one of them. Now I probably could, if I wanted to live there. But I’m not sure I do.
When I imagine myself living in a big house, I don’t see Sasha. I can only see Sassy.
“Yeah, I know, I just—” Her grip tightens around the steering wheel. “Está lejos, and I don’t want to get stuck in traffic again. I sort of promised Jason I’d meet him later?”
“Jason?” I turn to her. What’s Mia’s situationship gotta do with our beach plan?
“He’s in town for a couple of days visiting family, and I said we could meet for a bit at his place?” She gives me an apologetic expression. “He’s closer to the hills.”
“?Me estás dando plantón para quedar con Jason?” My voice tinges with frustration. Are you standing me up to hang out with Jason? “I thought you said you weren’t serious.”
She sets her jaw. “No te estoy ignorando. You’re my priority. That’s why I’m hanging out with you first and meeting him later.”
“You see Jason all the time at school. It’s the first time we’ve hung out in months. I feel like we’re on a schedule now.” I turn my head to look out the window.
She’s not technically bailing on me, but … it’s like she just wants to get this through so she can go hang out with him.
“Why are you being difficult right now?” Her eyes narrow, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. “It’s not like you haven’t had to reschedule a dozen times, or cut a FaceTime short because you had somewhere to be or something to film, and I’ve never complained.”
I swallow hard, the weight of her words landing like a boulder on my chest. She’s right, and I’m being unfair.
“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to dispel the thin veil of unease that has settled upon us.
Mia shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorrier.”
“I’m sorriest. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t want to spend time with you.”
“Neither do I. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I wasn’t making time for you,” I say.
“And we still have our sleepover on Monday.” Her face lights up. “I have it all planned out. We could go to the arcade and then hang out at home and make air-dry clay figures. Also I found my skates! We could go to the park in the morning and have a little picnic.”
“That sounds gre—” My chest swells with excitement, then a text from Marissa flashes across my screen—she just sent me the script for the show. “I … can’t. I’m going to London on Monday. I’m sorry. But I’ll be back soon, and I can visit you after.”
I haven’t confirmed it with Marissa, but she’s right. It’s a good opportunity. I shouldn’t pass on it. And maybe I’m being unreasonable about being tired.
I’m lucky, so lucky. I should appreciate that.
“To London? Sasha, what? I thought you finally got time off.” Mia frowns, a flicker of disappointment passing through her face. “You’re so overworked you got sick.”
I mean, I think it was the nerves from the PR contract that made me sick. Mia knows about it. She thinks Kai and I should be careful, but as long as we get paid, she’s not against it.
“Marissa got me a small role on Friday, that show we like?”
“Shit, Sash, no, I know what Friday is.” Her eyes widen in shock. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah. It’s a small role, though.”
We used to binge-watch shows over FaceTime all the time last year when she first moved to New York, but lately it’s been difficult to find time with my schedule and her classes.
“Remember when I used to ask you to come to parties with me because I didn’t want to go alone?” Mia purses her lips. “You used to disappear for a bit halfway through. I always knew where to find you, though. Especially if there was a dog or a cat around.”
A little smile touches my lips. Whenever I used to sneak out to recharge, Mia would always come find me.
“You would get really quiet at a certain point, and I always knew it was time to go home.”
“Yeah.” I’m not sure why she’s bringing it up now. “Why?”
“Don’t forget to come home, Sash.” She hesitates. “Don’t forget to recharge.”
Her brow knits into two concerned lines. I squeeze her hand, a surge of affection coursing through me. I don’t want to worry her. “I won’t. I promise. Sorry I have to cancel our sleepover.”
Silence weaves its web between us for a few moments.
“It’s … okay. Congrats on the role. You’re going to be a whole new level of famous. Holy fuck.” A thread of unease runs through her voice. She stares at the road ahead, but her mind is somewhere else.
“I can come visit you on campus before Christmas though,” I offer.
“Yeah, that could be fun.” She changes to the high-pitched register she uses when she makes plans with someone but doesn’t mean it.
But maybe I’m reading into it.
The rest of the drive is quiet. We end up taking a walk across the hills, sitting on the hood of her car while we eat a pack of Oreos, gazing out over the city and the layer of pollution that grays the sky. But Mia keeps checking her phone and smiling at her screen.
A sliver of annoyance spears through my chest. She’s going to see him later. Can’t they just talk in person? It’s obvious that whatever she has going on with Jason is more than a hookup. I don’t like the guy, but I don’t want to dislike him if he makes my friend happy. I need to try harder.
“?Me presentas a Jason cuando te vaya a visitar?” I ask. Introduce me to Jason when I visit you?
“Sure…” Mia fidgets with the string of her sweater. It’s a little oversized on her, and I wonder if it’s his. “Cuando me visites.” Whenever you visit me. She leans her head on my shoulder.
“Cuando te visite,” I repeat. Maybe saying it out loud will turn my words into a promise.
I hope it’s sooner than later.