Chapter Seventeen - Kayla
Kayla
”Why did we say yes to this?” Millie hisses, a tight smile stretching her face into a grimace and panic shining through her eyes.
The day of the match has finally come. Today we’re going to perform in front of thousands of people live and ideally millions more on TV.
We’ve played in stadiums before, but none of them compares to this giant of a venue in the slightest.
I never once thought about what the stadium would look like filled with people. If I had, I’d probably have begged Naroa to call everything off. No wonder that Mia, the pop-icon who was supposed to perform originally, said no.
But I can do this. We can do this. By now I could do our choreography in my sleep with how Mike has drilled it into our heads, but I am scared shitless nonetheless. So much could go wrong.
It”s somehow bittersweet that the day is finally here. We”ve worked for this so long and now it”s going to be over before we even know it.
I”m sure to anyone else it looks like we”re enjoying ourselves in this fucking aquarium-like VIP box as we pretend to watch the first half of the match while, internally, both of us are freaking out.
We”re supposed to watch the match from here, then we”ll give our performance and afterward watch the rest of the match with Millie”s parents in their booth.
And holy fuck do I want this to be over.
”Relax. Everything”s going to be fine,” I assure Millie and pat her shoulder, swallowing down my own restlessness. To be honest, I”m just as nervous as she is; I’m just better at hiding it. ”We got this.” I say it more to assure myself than her.
”Do we? What if I slip? Oh God, millions of people are going to be laughing at me.” She bites the nail of her thumb and starts pacing the room.
Instead of rolling my eyes, I take a deep breath and shake my head. ”You won”t slip.”
”What if the campaign didn”t work and they boo me off stage?” she asks, turning to walk in the other direction.
I gulp. It”s a very real possibility. One I”ve been trying very hard not to think about.
For the rest of that evening two days ago, Asher and I continued to call around and get our celebrity friends to join our ”We Love Millie” campaign. All of them came through, without any exception. They shot videos, posted memories with Millie, and all around just showed up to advertise their support.
I”m pretty sure it worked. Fans who have met her chimed in and it became a bigger and bigger online wave of positivity. But how sure can you really be with stuff like this? Especially about how well and quickly an online campaign translates into real-life events such as today.
”Ain”t gonna happen,” I say confidently, despite my doubts. ”Don”t focus on the haters, focus on our fans.”
”What if I forget the text?” I sigh. In all the years we’ve been on tour, she hasn’t forgotten the lyrics to our songs even once. And I doubt it will happen today.
”Just look cute while you”re doing it and improvise, nobody will care.” I mean, we do look cute today in our matching sparkly body suits, hers pink, mine a deep red, our signature stage colours.
”But hear me out, what if—” She’s talking herself into a panic and I need to stop her.
”Millie!” I step in front of her, forcing her to stop walking and take her hands in mine. ”It”s. Going. To. Be. Fine.” I wait for her to calm down and nod.
”Come on,” I say more softly, reaching for her hand and pulling her after me. ”Let’s go downstairs. We need to get ready anyway.”
As we walk out, I hand her a champagne flute and she greedily takes a big sip. I”m not trying to get her drunk, but I assume a gulp or two might help her relax.
We make our way down many flights of stairs to get ready for the show—get our in-ears before someone hands us our bedazzled microphones.
Then we huddle in a corner and, after a few encouraging words, it”s finally time to fucking go.
The applause and cheers are fucking deafening as the final note of our last song fades. Millie and I look at each other in disbelief, breathing heavily as we stay in the final position of our choreography. Then we break after three seconds and she runs toward me, panting an ”Oh my God, we did it,” as she throws her arms around me.
I hug her back out of reflex, emotion clogging my throat and stinging in my eyes. ”And we were amazing.”
She lets me go and I take her hand. Together we walk to the front of the stage for our final bow before a lift in the ground will let us disappear under the stage.
”Oh my God, oh my God, Kayla, we fucking did it!” She starts jumping around me, her face stretched in a smile so wide I”m afraid it will make her face burst. ”Oh my fucking God.”
I laugh and pull her with me, past people scurrying to take down the stage so the match can resume, to the backstage labyrinth. Fuck yeah, we did it. And there was no hiccup at all. She wasn’t booed off stage, none of us forgot their steps or lyrics—it couldn’t have gone any better.
Now I can”t wait to get out of this damn bodysuit. It looks amazing, but holy shit, is it uncomfortable, and now it”s sweaty and I just want to wear some comfortable pants and a t-shirt.
I look up when suddenly, Millie rushes past me and jumps at a person waiting for us behind the stage. A grin tugs at my lips when I realize it”s Luca, then my face freezes when I realize that Asher is right next to him, looking at me with a bright smile on his face.
And there”s a camera trying to catch every moment for the viewers at home and probably a documentary they”re selling for more charity donations.
”You did amazing, Sweetheart,” Asher says, his voice full of pride. He”s wearing his team’s shirt with the shoulder pads, and it makes him look even more giant and way bigger than he actually is. Wider shoulders definitely suit him.
”Thank you, Honey,” I say sweetly and narrow my eyes at him, but I don”t dare give my voice quite the sarcastic undertone I want to. Not on camera.
I step up to his outstretched arms and he doesn”t hesitate to lay his hand at the small of my back and lean down for a kiss.
With both of us sweaty, he from the match, me from my performance, still trying to catch my breath, our tongues dance with each other as we try to convince the world that this is real.
It”s not our first kiss, not by far. But it”s definitely one of the hottest, only beat by the one he gave me as both of us reached our orgasms. And that one is pretty hard to beat.
My heart drops as my thoughts wander to our future.
The match is almost over now, only half to go. Then the only thing left is his parents” charity dinner and a few more weeks of accidental paparazzi sightings so it”s not too obvious that this whole relationship was a farce.
Then it”s over.
Just like that.
So why am I sad about it? I should be thrilled, jumping in excitement, right along Millie, and shouting from the rooftops that this clusterfuck is going to be over soon and I’ll never see Asher again. Well, maybe not ‘ever’ with both of our best friends dating, but definitely less.
Yet I’m not happy at all. And I know exactly why, I just don’t dare entertain that I might actually have feelings for Asher.
”Is everything okay?” Asher whispers against my lips. “You’re suddenly all tense.”
I keep my eyes closed and gulp before I give him the slightest nod.
”Yeah,” I answer softly and when I finally blink my eyes open, I can see anger in his.
”That”s bullshit and you know it.” His voice is quiet but not any less angry, his hand on the small of my back flexing as he pulls me closer to him, his mouth now right next to my ear. ”You”ll tell me after the match.”
I swallow past the emotion in my throat. I want to give him a sassy answer and ask him where he takes the audacity from to order me to talk to him, but all I can do is nod.
”Where are you watching the rest of the match?”
”Millie”s parents are in a VIP booth, we”re changing and then going there,” I mumble, blinking away the sting behind my eyes.
I don”t even know what”s going on. I”ve just played the biggest show of my career; there’s not a rational thought going through my head and my emotions are all over the goddamn place.
”Mine and Luca”s parents are in 6-12 if you”d prefer to watch there.”
I raise my eyebrow at him. In what world would I want to hang out with his parents alone? Then it dawns on me that he probably means for Millie and me to go there to watch as a way for her to meet his parents, maybe. I shake my head.
”Nah, I”ll hang out with them. I haven”t seen them in a while.”
Suddenly someone shouts for Luca and Asher from somewhere behind me and he shoots me a sheepish smile.
”Gotta go, girlfriend. See you later.” He leans down and smushes another kiss against my lips before he runs off.
”The stars of the day!” Millie”s mom gushes as we walk into their VIP box. Millie and I have pulled on some jeans and jerseys that Naroa handed us, both of them of course with our ”boyfriends” numbers and names plastered across the back, still wearing the body suits underneath.
I’m just mad that nobody warned us before the show that we wouldn’t be able to jump into a quick shower afterwards.
I feel disgusting. There’s still sweaty makeup on my face, hanging by a thread, and my hair is full of hairspray.
Once again, I wish I could just wear it natural without having it fried straight, but oh God, the way waves in my hair would destroy our ”entirely opposites” image. The horror.
Millie steps into her mom”s hug and I stand back to watch them.
My family was never warm. With my parents always busy with work and my brother somehow always being the one everyone fawned over, I can”t remember the last time my mom even gave me a hug, much less my dad.
Living with them was pretty much only co-existing, like much older roommates who gave me an allowance and occasionally told me I couldn’t do something.
It shouldn”t have been that hard to go through with cutting contact with them. After all, they”ve pushed me aside for my whole life already.
But I can”t help it. Whenever I see functioning families, like Millie”s, there’s just this nagging feeling of jealousy that rises up my esophagus like bile.
”I’m so proud. You girls were wonderful out there,” her mom gushes, putting her hands on Millie’s shoulders as she looks at both of us with tears in her eyes. ”How do the young people say nowadays? You had a meal?”
I shake my head and chuckle. God, Sonia is just hilarious as she tries to keep up with the young kids.
”We ate?” I laugh and accept her hug as she approaches me with arms stretched wide for me to step into.
”And we left no damn crumbs,” Millie adds and all of us break into laughter. God, saying and hearing that makes me cringe.
The three of them catch up and I chime in when Millie brings up our plans to change labels. Other than that, I fade into the background, watching them, mind trailing after my own thoughts.
The three of them are really the perfect family, aren”t they?
Humble parents who need to be all but forced to enjoy themselves using Millie”s money and Millie, who loves them so much, that the possibility of making her parents retire early pushes her through all the media shitstorms heading her way without even so much as a complaint.
I adore the way they love each other.
Tristan, her dad, pulls me back into the conversation when he asks if we plan to record a new album soon.
”That depends on how long everything is going to take,” I tell them with a big sigh, sinking into one of the padded chairs. I’d love to resolve the whole label conflict quickly, but especially if we need to involve lawyers, I know it’s going to take a while.
”I”m not recording another album with Starlet Sounds but if the negotiations take forever, so will making new music and touring. Plus, with a legal fight, money running out at one point is a possibility we definitely have to keep in mind. I”m not sure how Millie feels about everything, but I for one would love to find a way to release our music by ourselves.”
I shoot Millie a glance from the corner of my eyes. I didn”t get around to talking about this possibility with her yet, but the way that everything has played out, I think it”s the best way to protect ourselves from other predatory companies in the business.
As we”ve learned, labels don”t show their true selves until you”re in a pickle, and in a crunch, they will always pick the side of media, because they don”t want to be blacklisted.
But doing our own thing? God, the possibility of being completely free to do what I want just sounds amazing. I want that.
”What would that look like?” Millie tilts her head and looks at me with wide eyes like a golden retriever puppy.
”We”d found our own label and hire people to take care of everything that comes with it,” I explain with a shrug, cringing a bit at how easy I”m trying to make it sound. ”I have no exact plan yet, but if we”re already scouting lawyers, we might as well keep an eye out for firms who deal with that kind of stuff as well.”
”How about we meet up tomorrow and do a bit of research?” she asks and I nod. I would love to get the ball rolling on this as soon as possible.
A muffled announcement outside makes the crowd cheer and I stand up from my seat, curious what’s happening.
”Sure,” I tell her absentmindedly as I step up to the window. ”Let”s do that. Now let”s watch the second half of the game and cheer for our guys.”
Now that we’re done with our show, I”m actually curious to watch Luca and Asher play. If what Asher told me is correct, his only job is pushing and tackling people out of Luca”s way, which is either going to be hilarious or nail-bitingly exciting to look at.
Tristan is trying to explain to his wife and daughter how exactly football works, but I completely tune out, my eyes scanning the field as the players run out, searching for Asher’s number.
When Asher runs into the field, I see his eyes scan the VIP boxes. He can”t see us from down there, can he?
He”s probably looking for his parents anyway. But then he points at our booth and blows a kiss into its direction.
And I fucking giggle. Hiding my red cheeks behind my hands, all worries about our label temporarily forgotten.
I can’t believe he has that kind of effect on me.
A few minutes before the match time is up, Millie and I come to a stand at the side of the field for what Naroa calls ‘aesthetic reasons.’ Apparently, a bunch of cameras will be on the field after the final call and they want to have Millie and me down here so people keep watching, thus bringing in more sweet, sweet, advertising money for charity.
The whole stadium is buzzing with excitement as the announcer’s voices echo through the stadium.
”This match has exceeded all donation goals by twice the amount,” one of the announcers shouts into his microphone and Millie punches the air, then does a little dance.
I grin, satisfied. at least this whole thing has a good outcome. That’s all that matters. ”Now the only question remaining is, who will get to pick the charity?”
”Team Friendship is ahead by two points. Team Hollywood has one chance to take the win, will they take it?” another voice adds, and the stadium becomes quiet. Eerily quiet as the players get into their last maneuver and then suddenly, chaos erupts.
”And the win goes to Team Friendship!” the announcer shouts and I take Millie”s hand. People on the stands are shouting, dancing and laughing as they celebrate the win. Even Team Hollywood’s fans don’t seem too disappointed. It’s an amazing atmosphere in here.
One of the event staff members motions for us to go over to the players and I pull Millie after me, maneuvering the two of us through the crowd of happy coaches, staff members, players and families who ran onto the field.
As soon as she sees Luca, Millie lets go of my hand and runs the remaining steps to her boyfriend.
I stop and watch them. She deserves the wide smile he has on his face, the way he leans down to kiss her.
A pang of disappointment hits me. Until Luca turned up, Millie was my person. My bestie, my confidante, the one person who was always there for me.
Things will change with Luca in the picture. Hell, they have already changed.
And that scares the crap out of me. Is this where I lose her too?
I try to push those thoughts away and stand aside with a forced smile on my face as I watch the chaos on the field unfold. The players are shouting and jumping at each other, clapping hands, even with their opponents, and I see a few exploding champagne bottles all around, ducking when a foamy stream shoots right past me.
Trying to keep out of any champagne sprays, I attempt to find Asher. We’ll give the cameras what they asked for and then I’ll slowly disappear and drive home.
Home. Where it’s quiet and I can recharge my social battery.
When I finally find him, he’s in a huddle of men, all laughing and congratulating each other.
”Hi, Kayla.” A strange voice suddenly appears beside me, and I startle when I realize his mom is next to me and linking her arm with mine.
”Hi, Mrs. McDaniels,” I say softly and smile at her.
”Please. It”s Jade.” She pats my arm, her eyes scanning the crowd for her son. “Ah, there he is.”
She raises her arm to wave at Asher before she turns to me. ”You did amazing in the half time. I”ve never seen such a professional set. You and your friend were wonderful to watch on that stage.” She shoots me a warm smile and I gulp.
”Thank you so much, Jade,” I press out.
When I look up, Asher is in front of us, leaning down to accept a kiss on the cheek from his mom and letting her congratulate him before he turns to me.
He raises his eyebrow in question, and I can only assume that even though we fucked right afterwards, he actually remembers what a sensitive topic parents are. I give him a slight nod.
”I”m stealing my girlfriend from you, Mom,” he says, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he takes my hand and pulls my arm out of her grasp.
I”m not sure where he”s leading me, but he throws his arm over my shoulder, pressing his lips against my temple as we walk, evading the ton of players and cameramen who have flooded the field.
”You were great!” I tell him and lean my head against his shoulder as he navigates us past people. ”Sorry for ambushing you down here. Naroa wants a good, final shot for this game.”
”Well, then how about we give her just that?” He chuckles and then I squeal when the whole world suddenly turns and I lose my balance. Asher is tipping me over, holding me in his strong arms as he leans down and kisses me, the players around us cheering.