Chapter 15
I keep the beach memories to myself, not wanting to share them. If I tell Marissa, she’ll want us to re-create them via a photoshoot so we can post the pictures on our socials, and they’ll become part of the lie—part of Sassy’s life.
I wonder if this is what Asher meant, about keeping the real me hidden. That I’m allowed to keep parts of my life to myself.
“So, how did you two meet?” The podcast interviewer adjusts the mic in front of her, snapping me to the present.
She glances between me and Kai on the chair beside me.
The new year is in full swing, and so is press season.
Interviews are ramping up in preparation for the Grammys, but it’s the first time Kai is joining me.
He was only meant to be here to support me, but when the producers saw him, they asked if he wouldn’t mind joining. So here we are.
The cozy lighting in the studio casts a warm glow over the large table that sits at the center of the room, flanked by high-end mics and headphones.
Behind us, soundproof walls are adorned with signed photographs of previous guests, and the whispered voices of the camera crew blend with the hum of the recording equipment.
“We were paired up for a project in high school along with our friend Mia,” Kai says.
He lounges in his seat, slinging his arm over the back of the chair.
To the untrained eye, he doesn’t look nervous, but I know him.
The way his rings keep clinking softly against the table, the way he readjusts his headphones—he hates this.
“Math. I pretty much saved the project.”
“You did not,” I say, forcing some charm into my voice. “Okay, hear me out. To this day, he’s wrong.” I turn toward the interviewer and smile in the way I’ve been trained to do. “Have you heard of the Monty Hall problem?”
We bicker for a while, and I can practically feel Marissa smiling behind us—our fans will love this.
The realization makes me turn quiet. I don’t know how to feel about this level of exposure, about our lives being put on display.
Truth blending with lies. How much are my fans allowed to know? How much do I want them to know?
“Sassy, you must be nervous about the Grammys. We’re all rooting for you.” The interviewer grins. “Is the new album dropping soon?”
“My lips are sealed.” I fiddle with the headphone wire, glancing at Marissa. “Seriously, I can feel a laser dot appearing on my chest through the window if I say too much. My manager is here today, and she’s tense as hell right now.” At this, Marissa laughs. “But stay tuned?”
When Marissa nods approvingly, a giddy feeling courses through my body. The people pleaser in me can’t help but drink up every ounce of validation she gives me.
“Tell us a little bit about you, Kai.” The interviewer leans forward, voice smooth like honey. I look over at Kai, excited for the conversation to move away from our alleged romance for a while. “I understand you’re an artist?”
Kai straightens his spine. “Well, yeah, I…”
I wait for him to speak about his work, giving his sneaker an encouraging nudge under the table. He’s hesitant to share it because he doesn’t think he’s good enough and that people will only like his work because of who he is to me, but I believe people will gravitate toward it regardless.
His art is something special. I can’t wait for him to show it to the world. I can’t wait to write a song about his characters. But in order to do that, he needs to believe in himself first.
“It’s more of a hobby…” His lips purse, and he looks down before resetting his face to an easy smile. “I’m a college student at the moment.”
Something sharp pierces my chest. I want to disagree, but I don’t want to put him on the spot like that. He said he’d rather post his art anonymously for now to see how it does. I should honor that, so I stay quiet, lost in my thoughts until I hear my name again.
“Kai, how did you know Sassy was the one?” The interviewer inches forward with a quizzical look.
My pulse quickens. Kai and I share a quick glance. We’ve rehearsed this question, and I can almost feel Marissa mouthing the words.
Kai is supposed to say something along the lines of: She makes my stomach feel like a butterfly nest. Which is meant to be romantic, but “butterfly nest” sounds like something out of a horror movie.
Then we’re supposed to make lovey-dovey eyes at each other, but I stiffen.
There’s a beat of silence, and the air suddenly feels heavy. Kai looks at me, watching me in that calm way of his. It’s okay, his face seems to say.
“Well, I guess … Sasha’s never asked me to be someone I wasn’t.” An unexpected brightness shines through in his voice. “And I hope it’s the same for her … or at least that it is now.”
My breath catches, and for a moment I forget about the script. What I’m supposed to do. How Sassy is supposed to react. There is something about the way he says it, like he means it. Maybe not in the way everyone thinks he does. But in a way only he and I understand.
Kai nudges my foot under the table, and I smile, nodding slightly. It might not be the full truth, but it’s ours. Maybe it’s all that matters.
The podcast ends soon after, and Kai and I are free to go.
We make our way toward the underground parking lot along with Marissa.
Asher’s waiting there for us, his entourage of security stationed in the background.
He’s grabbing lunch with Kai, and I’m leaving for a few days to visit Mia in New York, so he wanted to say goodbye.
“See you soon. Have fun. Tell Mia she’s ugly and I hate her,” Kai says from behind me as I load my overnight bag into Marissa’s trunk. When I turn to him, he traps me in a tight hug. “Can we talk when you get back?”
“Sure.” I say, my stomach clenching uncomfortably. Talk about what? Is everything okay? Marissa’s gaze is on me from the driver’s seat, urging us to get a move on, so I pull away. She offered to drive me to the airport after the interview, since we need to catch up in person anyway.
“Will you still be here when I come back?” I turn to Asher. He fluffs his hair, looking to the side when I give him a hug. My stomach twists. I know he has to leave for London eventually. But I don’t want him to.
“Yeah, my mum’s in town, and I’m filming a commercial in LA, so I’ll still be here when you come back. It’s a fragrance brand, so they’ll give me free products, too.”
“It’s eau de toilette,” Kai teases.
“Eau de parfum.” Asher rolls his eyes. “Do you even know the difference?”
Kai flashes a grin, mischief dancing in his eyes as he leans in, playfully pressing his shin against the hollow of Asher’s knee. The corners of his lips twitch with amusement when Asher stumbles and nearly falls to the ground, but he catches himself in time.
“What are you, five?” He grunts, shoving Kai aside with his shoulder.
“Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.” I sweep my gaze between them.
“I can’t make any promises,” Kai says. He shrugs and turns to Asher. “I told this guy I’d teach him how to ride a bike, but if you scratch it, I swear…”
Oh? That’s new. Kai rarely lets anyone near his grandpa’s bike, much less ride it. But Asher seems thrilled, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
I wish I could be there to watch him try.
I can’t help but look over my shoulder as Marissa and I drive away, watching my friends’ figures shrink in the distance. These past few weeks have been blissful, but I have this feeling like I just broke the spell, and everything will be different when I return.
I force myself into the present while Marissa and I go over my demos and my upcoming schedule.
The Grammys are in a few weeks, which means I should increase my social media presence, and I’ll have to squeeze in a few more interviews, as well as decide on a single for my next album, which I’ll be performing at the ceremony.
I’m excited about the album, but the idea of having to throw myself into another press cycle makes my head spin.
I feel like I just finished the last one.
Marissa hands me the AUX. I play her the song that I want to be my next single, a tentative smile rising to my lips. It’s so different from anything on the first album. This song is about independence, self-discovery—not love. It’s not even inspired by a fictional story.
This song is just … me.
I’m kind of really proud of it.
“I mean, it’s cool. But is it a single?” Marissa purses her lips.
“Don’t get me wrong. I love it. This song should definitely be part of the album.
It’s just not what we want for a single, considering the way your fans dissect your lyrics.
We need to give them something more cryptic. Like ‘Summer Blues.’”
“Another love song?”
“Love song for now, then a heartbreak one. Anything that will generate engagement.”
I flatten my hands on the dashboard. “I don’t get it. Why can’t my music just be music?”
“Sasha, we need to be careful. This is going to be the lead single of your second album. That’s a major thing—it can make or break your career.
Everyone can write an album and be lucky enough to have a couple of hits chart.
But your next album will decide if you become a household name or a one-hit wonder.
If your first single flops, the rest of the album will, too. ”
“Oh.” My neck prickles at the idea.
“Plus, your album has to be cohesive with the narrative we’ve built so far.
You and Kai are set to break up in a couple of months.
Fans will expect a reaction song. Your first single should be a cryptic love song with a sad undertone.
Get your fans wondering if maybe things between you and Kai aren’t as good as they look.
Then the breakup is announced, and you come up with a second single, a heartbreak anthem, sonically different from the first one.
With fans engaged, the rest of the album will be a success. ”
Fuck. The breakup. I had almost forgotten.