15. Monroe
15
MONROE
T he hot water washes over my tight muscles. We landed in Melbourne last night, and I feel like my internal clock is broken with all the time zones we’ve traveled through. It’s somewhere around three in the afternoon local time, but I’m exhausted. I turn the shower off, towel-drying my hair before walking out into the living area of the penthouse suite in a fluffy hotel robe.
Ember is typing away on her laptop. Her eyes rise to meet mine. “How are you feeling, babe?”
I exhale, reaching for a forkful of the pavlova from the extravagant tray of local food that was laid out for me and the team to snack on. “I am feeling … confused.”
It’s been just over a month since we left Seoul. We’ve been traveling through the Eastern Hemisphere relatively quickly. This is our last stop before we hit Europe, where we’ll move slower and hit more countries, but not travel as far to each venue. I’m looking forward to pastries and English accents, but especially the slower feel it will have with so many compact cities clustered together with sold-out stadiums.
Ember nods slowly, still typing. “Confused about the stalker?”
We haven’t heard from him, not since the dead bird in Seoul. The silence is almost more concerning than his activity and vile gift-giving. I’m fearful that once we aren’t hopping around the globe as much, he’ll reappear.
I shrug. “No. I’ve been trying not to think about that.” I pop the sweet dessert into my mouth and collapse on the chair across from hers.
She pauses her typing, pushing the computer back a few inches. The suite has a whole dining room, complete with a crystal chandelier and tufted pink velvet chairs around a glass-top round table. She pulls her legs up onto the chair and sits cross-legged, studying my face carefully.
“Then, what is it? You’ve been withdrawn ever since Korea.”
I finish chewing the bite, savoring all the flavors of fresh fruit and marshmallow before scooping another one up.
“I’ve been having … strange dreams about someone.” I shove the food into my mouth before I dare to elaborate more. My eyes jump up to meet hers.
Ember’s brows rise with interest. “Oh? What kind of dreams?” She reaches for a piece of lamington, the coconut and chocolate dusting her fingertips and lips as she bites into it. She’s wearing a pale blue track suit that compliments her cool-toned skin.
“I … I guess you could say they’re … well, they’re not the kind of dreams that I would want to think about in a church, if you know what I mean.”
Ember purses her lips, trying to hold in a smirk. She nods, like she understands exactly what I mean. “I’ve had dreams like that before too. They were about my track coach in high school.”
My jaw drops open. “What?”
She nods, laughing. “All the girls had a crush on him. He was young, like twenty-four. So hot—like, stupid hot. One day, my boyfriend broke up with me. It just so happened to be the same day my mom caught my dad sleeping with our neighbor. I was crying near the lockers in the field house. He walked in and asked me what was wrong. I pretended I had gotten my period and was cramping.” Her eyes grow distant, like she’s picturing the scene in her mind. “He gave me the keys to his office and told me I could go lie down if I wanted to skip practice. It was the first time in my life I remember feeling like a guy saw me as a human being with emotions that mattered, you know? Not just a girl with inconvenient, irritating emotions that he didn’t have time or patience to deal with.”
My insides feel tingly at her words.
That’s exactly how I feel.
“Like your well-being and emotional state are what matter … and he doesn’t benefit from treating you that way,” I murmur.
She nods knowingly. “Exactly. Exactly that. He wasn’t a predator. He had no interest in a high school–aged girl. He didn’t stand to gain anything. He could’ve turned around and left me to cry or told me to suck it up and get to practice.”
I lean forward. “So, you fell for him after that?”
She laughs, nodding. “Yeah, big time. It was such a turn-on. I had wet dreams for months. I wasn’t really alone or anything. All the girls had the hots for him. But like I said, he was a good man and didn’t do anything except respect us. After my dad’s continual cheating, it was nice to see a man who treated women as equals.” She sighs. “I wonder where Coach D is now.”
“Coach D?!” I cackle at the suggestive name.
She laughs, shaking her head. “His last name did start with a D , but, yeah, we definitely called him that because we were horny teenagers.”
“Damn. Well, I guess the way I’m feeling makes a little more sense now. Glad to know I’m not alone.”
Cash hasn’t brought up leaving the tour and returning to his ranch in Texas, and neither have I. His one-month agreement expired three weeks ago. With no word from the stalker, his services become less necessary every day. I’m terrified one day he’ll just walk out with his bags packed, nod his farewell, and ride off into the sunset, never to be heard from again.
We’ve kept our distance from each other, aside from when we’re in public and he stands within two feet of me or closer in a crowd. I’ve started to hope the crowds get pushy, just so I can feel him standing over me and guarding me until we safely reach our destination. He still works double shifts, guarding me, only taking time away when he needs sleep and Brooks is on duty. Otherwise, he’s my silent protector, lurking in the corners and shadows everywhere we go. I’m painfully aware of his presence. He hasn’t missed a single show, meet and greet, or let me leave the hotels without him. It would feel suffocating if I didn’t have a visceral need to have him near, especially after the “gifts” that were left for me.
Ember finishes off her dessert and wipes her hands on a napkin. “Do you want to go over the itinerary now, or do you need to nap first? Katherine wants to join us on Zoom.”
I sigh, pouring myself a glass of water. “Let’s get it over with. I can’t sleep until it gets a little darker outside.”
Ember nods sympathetically. “This is our last time in another country so far away with so little time to adjust. Europe is going to feel much better.”
She sets her MacBook next to the food tray on the glass dining room table, scooting closer to me so we can both be on the screen as the call goes through to Katherine. Her face appears on the screen, pixelated at first before becoming clear.
“Hello, gorgeous. How’s the weather Down Under?” Katherine smiles from her home office in LA. She’s wearing a cozy-looking sweatshirt and her glasses, her hand clutching a glass of wine.
“I haven’t even been outside yet.” I tip the water over my lips and take a sip. “But I am jealous you have wine.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Ember hops up from her chair.
“Oh, you don’t have to get it, Em. I was half joking.”
“Well, it’s after nine at home, so we would normally already have a glass. ”
Katherine swishes her wine around, nodding her approval. “Have you logged in to your socials lately, honey?”
Judging by the sparkle in her eye, I can sense she has something she’s dying to tell me.
“I’ve been avoiding it.”
Part of me is too centered on the tour, the dances, and the probability of my life being in grave danger to even think about what’s being said online. The other part of me is terrified that the clip of Cash punching the purple-haired content creator is going to resurface in a much darker light—or worse, the clip of us stealing a moped and speeding away is going to suddenly tank my career and paint me as a thief who doesn’t care about my own fans. Thankfully, the police were able to return the moped to the owner from the registration records with no explanation as to who the thief was.
Either way, I find it much better for my mental health to let Katherine keep up with what’s being said about me and the overall tone of my social media presence, only filling me in when it’s absolutely necessary. My nerves can’t take it all. I need to stay focused on my career and performances. No news is good news when it comes to social media.
Ember returns with two large glasses of rosé, filled to the brim, handing me one and plopping down next to me. I take a long sip and nod for Katherine to continue.
Right as she begins to speak, the door to the adjoining hotel room opens, and two heavy sets of footsteps walk into the suite. I don’t have to look to know it’s Cash and probably Brooks.
Great. I can sense what his footsteps sound like now .
I’m overly attuned to his mannerisms, his pattern of breathing, his fucking footsteps.
I force my eyes to dial in on the screen.
Katherine’s face shifts to a tiny corner of the computer as she shares her screen with us. “These are just the highlights, of course, but in the last month, these are the most viral clips of you and what people are saying about the tour.”
The screen fills with a clip from one of my concerts. I’m onstage with Clint, performing our duet. It must’ve been Tokyo because that was his last show before he headed back to the States. The camera shows us singing closely and gazing into each other’s eyes. Sometimes, even my own ability to act surprises me. After ten seconds on us, the camera pans over to show Cash off to the side of the stage, eyes laser-focused on us, his mouth in a hard line. His arms are crossed over his black T-shirt, biceps bulging. My heart rate increases at the clear sign of irritation in his eyes. His jaw tics, almost like he’s … jealous?
That can’t be …
I glance up at him. He’s watching from a few feet away, casually leaning against the wall. His eyes meet mine, revealing nothing before returning to the screen. He hasn’t called me Princess since Seoul either.
“The text reads, The way Monroe Blue’s bodyguard watches her .” There’s a sweating emoji and a fire emoji next to the words. “The caption below says, Has anyone found out who this man is yet? Asking for a friend . We don’t think they have, by the way, which is quite shocking. I guess because he has essentially no digital footprint, aside from a driver’s license and a few arrests, one of them being for the attack on you at the Texas concert over a year ago. I assume it’s still only a matter of time before people connect those dots.”
Katherine scrolls to the next video. I hold my breath at the closeness of the camera. This time, it’s on my face and Cash’s as we enter a hotel in Singapore. I’m wearing his black hoodie again, but it doesn’t help to disguise me anymore now that the fans have caught on. A fan gets close to me, shoving a print-out picture of me from the tour promo, asking for a signature. Cash’s face hardens as I almost trip, and he puts himself between me and the woman, using his corded forearm as a barrier. I smile up at him gently, touching his forearm reassuringly as I reach for the photo and the marker to sign it. He remains where he is until I’m done signing, and he hands the photo back over. My breath catches again when I see myself wrap my hands around his forearm and I let him guide me through the rest of the crowd with a satisfied smile on my lips.
Holy shit, we look like a lovestruck couple. It’s so clear that I’m infatuated with him. He’s going to see it. Everyone can see it. It’s painful how obvious it is.
My stomach muscles are cramped and tight as I remain motionless on the sofa. I don’t dare move or look around and see the reactions from Ember, Brooks, and especially Cash. I have no idea how to play this off.
Katherine scrolls again. I’m desperate to find an excuse to end the call and stop this. I don’t want to see any more. I definitely don’t want Cash to see any more. He might quit right here, right now.
Who would stay after seeing that a professional relationship had been compromised like this ?
A trio of British girls with podcast mics are on the next slide. One of them is speaking excitedly with her hands while the others listen in.
“I just don’t think we’ve seen such a hot, romantic relationship from a celebrity since, like, Prince William and Kate? Brangelina? Jelena? I don’t even know! I’m having trouble sleeping, to tell you the truth. Every single clip of Monroe and her bodyguard has me panting and sweating.”
The next girl on the podcast starts speaking, and an overlay on the screen plays different clips of me and Cash. One is at a concert, where he’s brooding and watching me as I sing with Clint. The next one shows him shoving an excited fan back before protectively placing his hand over my stomach. Butterflies erupt inside me at the memory. He didn’t touch me for a whole seven days after that incident.
“They’re all I can think about too. I mean, look at all the clips of him guarding her. First off, can we take a moment to acknowledge the man’s training regimen? What does he do, bench-press her limo? The man is jacked. I need to know where he’s from so I can relocate. Don’t even get me started on the veins in his forearms, or we’ll be here all day.”
The other girls giggle.
“I just think that with every camera phone around them tuned in on their very public interactions, what could possibly be happening behind closed doors? We already know Zade has been out and about with several of his female costars—basically confirming their relationship is on the rocks, at best. And with the moped ride through Seoul right after the left hook into the face of that YouTuber, the man is clearly obsessed with her. ”
“And she’d be crazy not to feel the same!”
“Just look at her face in this clip. He grabs her stomach, and her lips part like she wants him to touch her. I’m obsessed with them. I need more.”
“I feel like this is only the beginning of this story. Once they start touring Europe, it’s over. I have tickets, and if the tension in person is as serious as it is on film, I’ll be done for.”
Katherine shuts it off, her face filling the screen once more. She’s trying to hold back a smile, but it’s blatantly obvious that she loves the direction of the online rumors.
“I mean, the comment sections are pretty clear. People want to know who he is and if you two are secretly together. They’ve fully turned on Zade—like, to the point that his engagement is down and the predictions for his new movie are very poor. His publicist called me to discuss your relationship.”
Zade’s public persona is the least of my concerns. I’m more worried about how Cash is taking all of this. Considering he barely speaks to me now, I’m sure this is only going to make him more withdrawn and distant if he thinks I’m crushing on him.
“Mr. Redford, would you care to give us your opinion on the situation?” Katherine asks, directing her attention to the man standing a few feet away.
All eyes shift toward Cash. I exhale before following suit, my gaze catching his.