Chapter Twenty-One
Violet
Morning light is pouring in through the gaps in the hotel curtains.
I didn’t sleep.
I’m still wearing last night’s hoodie, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed with my elbows on my knees, staring at the small box in front of me.
My phone replacement.
Delivered twenty minutes ago by hotel staff who were nice enough to offer complimentary room service.
Thankfully, I’m not hurting financially and still get the benefits of being treated like royalty, even though I’m not here as Solace or the girlfriend of an Olympic hockey player.
If only I could wear that title because of Skye and not because of Theo.
I get that Skye’s team knows about us. I just wish I could be one of those floopy women who gush about it all over social media. Too bad I don’t really use social media.
I exhale slowly and run a hand through my hair.
Last night plays through my head again, and I can’t stop the feeling.
The concert. The crowd and the moment I locked eyes with Skye.
That look. There was no confusion in it. No curiosity.
Just cold and quiet understanding.
Skye knows, and I almost feel better now that my secret is out.
I wanted to tell her, but couldn’t find a good time to do so.
I know all the stories say that, but this time I mean it.
She was going through some things, and I didn’t think I could slash into our few deep moments with my oh-by-the-way-I’m-famous speech.
Ugh.
Last night was too chaotic. I would have called her as soon as I got back to the hotel.
It’s not like I could break character on stage.
And the moment I stepped off the stage, everything went south.
I grabbed my bag from my changing room and slipped through the service corridor like I always do after big shows.
Only this time, the back entrance had been chaos.
Fans. So many of them. Not even Michel could hold them all off.
The crowd surged when security opened the door, people pushing forward to get a glimpse of Solace. What they didn’t know was that I had slipped out of my disguise and managed to join the stampede to get to my car.
Michel moved quickly when he saw how antsy the fans were getting toward the end of the show.
Somewhere in the middle of him getting Violet through Solace’s doors, my phone slipped out of my hand, hitting the pavement.
RIP.
The screen shattered instantly. I know, typical cliche, but it was bound to happen. I never put cases on my phones. It’s too hard to pick just one vibe, ya know?
I’m sure Skye tried to reach me, though she didn’t bother coming to my hotel room. She was probably busy with the real reason she’s here in Milan. Being a famous hockey player and all.
I pick up the new phone that’s been swapping data for the last ten minutes, and follow the prompts to turn it on, keying in my new passcode: zero-two-zero-four. The day I met Skye.
Once the phone registers that I’ve brought it to life like the next Frankenstein’s Monster, it starts to explode with notifications.
Messages, emails, missed calls. I stare at it, equal parts exhaustion and irritation.
“Jeez,” I groan, putting it down so my hand doesn’t go numb from the vibrations.
When it finally slows, I scroll.
The first thing that catches my eye is a message from Ollie.
Ollie: Have you put any real time into the new album yet?
She’s been awfully pushy lately, and every time I ask her about it, she flips on me. Super out of character for her, but it’s not like I can do anything about it. She’s my agent. She makes the calls.
Another two messages from Ollie.
Nope. Three.
Ollie: The label wants updates.
Ollie: We need to keep the momentum after that concert last night.
Ollie: Call me.
My mouth tightens at the push I’m getting from her. The pressure and the tone, it’s not new. But something’s definitely been off. Little things I’ve noticed. Too many questions and interest in details that shouldn’t matter.
The feeling has been hitting me for a week or so now, like an itch I can’t quite reach.
I scroll past the next few messages.
Leah: You can’t just ignore me forever.
Leah: What happened wasn’t entirely my fault.
I let out a laugh. “Right.”
The memory flashes in my mind, the betrayal and the fallout that followed. I haven’t spoken to her since the last message when I told her I’d need to think about speaking to her again. I just wasn’t ready, and now with everything that’s about to unfold, I’m putting her on the back burner yet again.
She deserves it.
Next, a missed call from Mom. This one softens something in my chest, and I smile. I’ll call her back in a few minutes. Because next, my thumb freezes over the next set of notifications.
Skye.
My pulse jumps at the number of messages and calls from her. All were timestamped last night and early this morning. My chest tightens again as I open our message thread.
Skye: We need to talk.
A few minutes later.
Skye: Violet. Answer your phone.
Skye: I know.
I inhale slowly at that message. Of course, she does; she’s not stupid. Then another message.
Skye: Call me.
And another.
Skye: Don’t disappear on me now.
The last message came a few hours ago, before the media interviews, which I heard about at the coffee stand down the street. No anger or accusations, which somehow makes me feel even worse. I lean back slightly, resting the phone in my hands.
Everything is changing. My two worlds are finally going to collide. Solace, and the girl who somehow managed to matter more than either identity was ever supposed to.
Skye knows now. Which means the question isn’t if we’re going to talk, it’s how bad it’s going to be when we do.
I look back down at the screen, at the messages, and at Skye’s name. My thumb hovers over the call button, and I exhale before tapping the button.
“Alright,” I say, listening to it ring.
And ring.
And ring.
Her voicemail picks up, and I end the call before hearing the introduction. The next time I hear her speak, I want it to be face-to-face. I want to tell her everything she already knows, but needs to hear it from my lips. My confession.
I’ll try her again soon, but first, I’ll call my mom back. Talking to her will hopefully help ease the tension in my chest.
“Violet Rae,” my mom shrieks into my ear, so loud I have to put some distance between myself and the phone. “How could you? How dare you.”
Okay, so we’re skipping the warm-up conversation.
“Mom?” I’m confused by the urgency in her tone. “Are you okay?”
“How could you lie to me?” she sighs, and I swear I hear her crying.
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
My pulse begins to quicken, and I feel like something very bad is coming my way.
“You’re a famous pop star, and you thought it best to keep it from the person who raised you?”
“Mom—”
“No,” she cuts in, her voice cracking. “No, don’t ‘Mom’ me. Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”
“That wasn’t my intention.” I get to my feet so I can pace. Pacing always helps my words flow when my brain falters.
“Then what was the intention, Violet? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like my daughter built an entire life and decided I didn’t deserve to know about it.
I deserved to be lied to and look like a fool when I tell my friends that my daughter is a world-renowned surgeon at a local hospital.
” She exhales with what almost sounds like a laugh, but I know better. “What a fool I’ve been.”
Her words land harder than I expected.
“Who told you?” It’s the one thought I can’t seem to let go of. Who would have broken their NDA to out me like this?
Has it made it to social media?
She goes quiet on the other end of the phone.
“Mom?”
I hear her click her tongue. “I’m calling you, Violet, to tell you that I’ve found out something huge. Some major truth that you’ve been hiding, and your one concern is how I found out?”
My heart shatters as my face falls into my hands.
“I worked two jobs so you could have opportunities. I drove you to every music lesson as a child, and every competition. And somehow, in the middle of all that, you found the ability to lie to me about medical school and went on to become, what do they call you? A ‘global pop phenomenon’.”
She says the phrase like it personally insults her.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three sharp raps on my door have me dropping the phone from my ear.
Skye.
“Mom, I’m sorry to do this—”
“You better not hang up on me!”
“I’m not,” I tell her as another knock hits the outside of my hotel room door, louder this time.
I reach for the door, opening it without checking the peephole, and my stomach drops.
Oh.
You have got to be kidding me.
Theo is standing there with his hair a mess and his eyes blazing with some kind of rage that usually starts a public drama.
Fantastic.
He pushes past me before I can even say anything.
“Are you serious right now?” he demands.
My mom’s voice crackles faintly through my phone speaker.
“Violet? Who is that?”
“Give me a second,” I mutter.
“Oh, you take your time,” Theo laughs. “It’s not like my team is losing its mind over the fact that my girlfriend is apparently dating some woman on the other Olympic team.”
I blink at him.
“We broke up, Theo,” I snap.
“WHAT?” my mom barks through the phone.
“Mom, I have to call you back,” I say quickly, hitting the red button before my heart has a chance to hear the added hurt in her voice.
“Did we?” he snaps. “Because I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“You cheated on me,” I hiss. “With my cousin!”
“That’s not the point!”
I stare at him. He cannot actually think we’d make it through that. Or that I’d even want to.
“That is exactly the point.”
His hands fly through the air. “No, the point is that everyone thinks you dumped me for a woman. A woman, Violet. Doesn’t that sound insane to you?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m sure most people struggle with the coming-out phase, but this feels surreal.
“You cheated,” I repeat slowly.
“ONCE.”
“Multiple times,” I correct. “With my cousin. In my house.”
“That was a mistake.”
“And now you’re screaming in my hotel room. Because I’m seeing someone you don’t approve of?”
His face twists. “Oh, so it is true then. You really are dating that girl.”
“We’re not discussing Skye.”
“Well, the whole world is,” he snaps. “Olympic hero and secret girlfriend. People are eating it up.”
My stomach drops at that.
People know about us.
How on earth would people know about us?
My life feels like it’s quickly becoming a circus, and all my animals are eating the fans without my permission.
Chaos.
I walk to the door and open it. “Get out.”
His mouth falls open. “You’re seriously a dike? You’ll fuck anything as long as it has the Olympic logo, won’t you?”
Without thinking, I storm across the room and slap him across the face.
I’ve never done that before or ever had the urge to go through with it.
Not when he treated me like shit. Not when I caught him cheating on me.
But the moment he threw my life choices back in my face and stomped on what I have with Skye, I burned from the inside out.
“I can’t believe you just did that.” He’s actually stunned. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
Bullshit is what I want to say. If he wanted to come here to talk, then he wouldn’t be throwing around accusations and hurtful words.
“No. Now, please leave.” Please is a hard word to say in this moment, but I’m running low on options.
“Oh, great.” He looks behind me. “You’re just in time for the show.”
I turn my head back toward my door and make eye contact with the one person I’ve been trying to get a hold of. The one person I’ve wanted to tell the truth to since I got here.
Skye is standing in the doorway, her eyes burning holes into Theo as he stands there with a red mark across his cheek.
I’m not sure how much she’s heard, but I’m certain it was just enough to understand what’s going on.
My knees go weak as soon as she speaks. “It seems you need a reminder that ‘no’ is a complete sentence, and I’m the only one that gets to hear her beg.”