Chapter 10
“What were you thinking? A picture of you flipping someone off?” Marissa’s voice crackles through the phone.
“I’m sorry.” I pace the length of Asher’s bedroom, trailing a hand across his spotless shelves. We had wanted to rush Kai to the emergency room, but one of his bodyguards (I didn’t even know he had them) confirmed it was a minor injury.
Asher insisted on at least taking us to his penthouse, since the building has a medical bay, and we could be away from the media frenzy. He made a couple of calls, and by the time we arrived at his place, a doctor was already waiting.
My eyes dart around his bedroom, moonlight filtering through half-drawn curtains.
A tower of pillows guards the king-size bed, and there’s a cat bed next to his nightstand.
I expect his shelves to be full of awards, but the only things there are different kinds of crocheted items in various stages of completion—cat mittens, a little frog—as well as a music box model kit, propped against a framed picture of him and Rosa, his ex.
They’re at a farm, and Asher is kissing her cheek, so my theory about him wanting to date me to make her jealous tracks.
“Sasha, are you listening?” Marissa’s voice snaps me from my thoughts. “It’s not a big deal, but we don’t want any photos of you looking unhinged. You’ll give the tabloids ground to run with the narrative that you’re just another young female artist, spiraling out of control.”
“So what am I supposed to do as a young female artist, smile all the time?”
This is starting to piss me off. When my life doesn’t revolve around who I’m dating, it revolves around how nice or palatable I am.
“I’m not saying that, but kind of? It will make your life easier if you do,” she says.
“Look, my job is to anticipate people’s reactions.
I don’t want you to be seen as rude. We’re doing all of this to shed your teenage persona and transition to a more adult approach.
You’re almost twenty. Adult means contained.
The older you get, the more contained and measured you have to be. ”
Do I? Is that it? What’s adulthood even supposed to look like?
I’ve noticed that people talk about aging like it strips you of your personhood.
Like the older you get, the fewer spaces you’re allowed to inhabit.
Take Mom, for example. When she decided to go back to college in her forties to get her master’s, some of her and Mamá’s friends gave her looks, because what was the point of going back to school at her age?
She kept asking them why they thought that, but no one could give her a real answer.
I know this isn’t the same, but how many years do I have left before it’s no longer acceptable for me to … I don’t know, be me? If being an adult means becoming contained, am I slowly losing my freedom?
“I pulled some strings, and they won’t post the picture. The only thing people on social media are focusing on is Kai and Asher’s race anyway.”
I navigate to my feed. It is flooded with videos from the bouldering place.
@sassyswisdomtooth didn’t know these three were friends. so wholesome!
@sassysguitar_ maybe they’re helping asher through his breakup with rosa.
There are also links to multiple articles.
Sassy’s boyfriend injured during outing with Nadia’s son—Friday star Asher Grish. Find out everything about their surprising friendship!
Definitely not the gentle first love narrative Marissa wanted to push. But it’s not bad, either, I guess. It just focuses on a nonexistent friendship between Asher and us.
“How’s Kai?” Marissa asks with a sigh, gentler.
“He’s—”
“Is he going to be able to make it to tomorrow’s Homes for Change event?”
“Fuck. I forgot it’s tomorrow.” Tomorrow is supposed to be our first red carpet as a couple.
A fundraiser to improve housing and rehabilitation programs for people that struggle with substance abuse or face housing insecurity.
Kai and I were supposed to attend the masquerade ball together, followed by a silent auction, for which I donated a handful of guitars and a private concert.
I prop the door open and steal a look at the living room. Kai is on Asher’s couch, a mountain of pillows propping his foot up on the leaf-shaped coffee table. Asher sits beside him on the carpet, wrapping an ice packet in paper towels and slicing a weed gummy in half.
He offers it to Kai, but considering he already had a gummy an hour ago—
“Did you know my name was supposed to be Caio, but my mom wanted a more American-sounding name? So now I’m Kai.
Kaiiiii. If you think about it, it sounds like key,” Kai says as he stares at the ceiling, gesturing dramatically.
“Like I’m the key to something. But Kai also has AI, as in artificial intelligence, so maybe me studying computer science wasn’t random.
I have no escape. Maybe I am the key to AI. ”
He’s definitely high.
“You don’t seem happy about it.” Asher places the ice packet on Kai’s ankle, seemingly enjoying his weed-infused confessions.
“I just want people to appreciate my silly little drawings,” Kai whines into a pillow. “Your cushions smell like peppermint.”
Maybe I should call us a cab and head home.
“I don’t think tomorrow is happening,” I tell Marissa. “He’s fine, but he has to wear a boot, and the doctor said he should use compression gear and keep his foot elevated for a few days.”
“Ugh.” Marissa rolls the g to make it obvious she’s annoyed.
“Girl, chill, I’m the one who was invited to the event. Am I suddenly not enough?”
“You know what they say: Two is better than one. I already told the press you two were going together. But it’s fine, I guess. Are you still good to go alone?”
“Sure,” I lie. I have mixed feelings about these fundraisers.
I like the idea of helping communities that need it, but I’m not sure how organizing a silent auction and a ball for rich people helps anyone.
It’s like I have to parade down the red carpet to announce I’m a good person.
Am I even? The only thing I did was donate a few items for an auction; it’s not a hands-on effort.
I haven’t helped anyone directly. It feels like Marissa and my label just want me there for optics and networking.
“I’ll tell the makeup team and your stylist to be there at eleven AM, sharp.” Marissa injects some enthusiasm into her voice. “Don’t be picky about makeup, please. Change your look a bit.”
“I’m not…” Am I? I love makeup, but I need to stick to a handful of familiar products or else I have to fight the urge to wash it all off. Eyeliner, eye shadow, highlighter, and lip gloss are all fine, but heavy foundations and certain textures of lipstick make me want to scratch my skin off.
“I’m excited to see your dress! Send me pictures, okay?” Marissa hangs up before I can get another word in. I exhale a tight breath and rub my temples before making my way to the living room.
“Everything all right?” Asher asks, turning to look at me. He’s toying with a spaceship model kit on his shelf and showing it to an impressed Kai. His curiosity sounds genuine, but I still don’t trust him. Who the fuck are you? What version of you should I believe?
“Angry manager,” I huff, plopping down on the love seat next to them.
“A kitty!” Kai opens his arms when Asher’s orange tabby cat emerges from another room. He perches on the edge of the couch with a loud meow.
“This is Muse.” Asher picks him up and places him on Kai’s lap. I expect orange-cat behavior, but he just lies down on Kai’s chest and starts purring when he pets him.
“I know. Sasha and I stalked your socials,” Kai says.
“Oh, have you?” Asher swivels like a cartoon villain and gives me a smirk.
“Guys, what if we’re just characters in someone’s story?” Kai gasps. “Do we even have free will?”
My cheeks burn. “I thought you said these gummies were mild and could help with the pain.”
“They are. I take them before bed and they knock me out,” Asher admits. Does he have trouble sleeping? “Have you tried them before? I thought this stuff was legal in California.”
“We did a few times in high school, but neither of us liked it,” I say, catching myself too late. I shouldn’t be sharing that kind of thing with him, but I’m tired, and Asher’s finally dropped his guard. I can’t tell if it’s just an act to make me drop mine.
“I’m really sorry.” Asher rubs his forehead, putting the model kit back on the shelf. The bags under his eyes look more prominent under the dim, warm light. “This is all my fault.”
“It is,” I say, not dropping my gaze. At least he’s remorseful and can admit he fucked up.
“Well, a bet’s a bet. I lost. I’ll do whatever you want.” He reaches for his phone and turns to Kai. “I know everyone. And everyone who knows anyone, so what do you want? I have access to everything you could possibly want. Just name it and it’s yours.”
It should have come off as cocky, but something about the way he said it feels … empty.
“Your cat. I’m keeping Muse,” Kai says. He grabs Muse by the paws and makes him dance. “Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena…”
I’m never letting him do weed again.
“Muse is off-limits.” Asher pulls Muse off Kai’s lap. He heads to the kitchen on the other side of the room and refills his water bowl.
“Liar.” Kai pouts. “You said anything.”
“I have something,” I say. “That thing you keep asking me about … about me and Kai? Don’t ever mention it again.” Asher and I lock eyes. My heart thumps, but I will my voice not to shake. “There’s no reason for me to date you. Ever. In a real or a fake way. I’m not interested.”
Asher nods, his eyes apologetic. For a moment, I feel like I see him, the real him, whoever he is, but a second later, he’s gone.
“Fair enough,” Asher says. He rummages through his cabinets and produces a can of wet food for Muse, then cracks a tiny egg over the bowl.
“Damn, your cat eats better than me,” I mumble.