Chapter 7 #3
“Maybe we can continue that conversation after we wrap up here, because girl, we want to know the details and if his BDE is the real deal! Hahaha! Thanks so much for taking the time to visit with me, Tinsley. We adore you and can’t wait to see you soon in concert.
You guys can find Tinsley out on tour this summer; we have her links on our socials, and maybe, if we’re lucky, she and her boyfriend Roman Cash will gift us some kind of collab! ”
Let it go, woman. Sheesh. “Thanks so much for having me; I appreciate you and all of your listeners!” My smile falls as soon as the producer chimes in to let me know it’s over, and the DJ comes on as though we’re going to actually continue the call.
“Okay, we aren’t live anymore. I have to know, is he as good in bed as we all hope he is? I’m a girl’s girl, give me the deets!”
I rear my head back from the phone and look at Allie, who steps in like a pro. “Thank you so much for having Tinsley today; she’s already stepped away for another call, but she really appreciates you. Have a lovely day!” Allie is the best buffer.
Allie reaches to end the call on her phone as the DJ squeaks, “Oh, shoot. Maybe I can give you my personal cell and Tins can—” Click. Allie hung up on her, and I don’t hold back my laugh.
“Yeah, like you’re going to ooooo and ahh on the phone with her about the amazing Roman Cash.
Maybe you guys can get together and braid each other’s hair too,” Allie deadpans.
“I think she wanted to be your bestie—uh, rude—role is filled with her amazing cousin and another mega pop star, babe. You can’t rock with us.
Application denied.” Allie scowls at her phone as though the woman can see her.
Now it’s my turn to giggle. “Down, killer.”
My cell vibrates, and I think maybe Fiona caught my interview on the satellite radio station, but no, it’s the second biggest piece of trash in my life.
Roman
Srsly? Babe. That’s ur best effort? Wtf.
Roman
Preston is pissed and I can’t blame him. U could’ve been more complimentary on that interview. No one is going to believe us if u don’t put in the effort.
Roman
Six weeks is too long w/out a photo op. Preston said Rick suggested a public date. It’s a good idea. That DJ was right, u should come to Music Fest in August. It’d be sick. I’ll have Preston call Rick.
Me
Don’t call Rick! That’s not necessary, Roman.
Roman
Can I trust u to show up then??? I know Rick will make sure ur sweet ass is there.
Each and every time Roman’s manager Preston and so-called Sober Coach has called Rick, it results in the same outcome, and I really don’t want to try and hide new bruises in the summertime.
One summer, Rick left finger bruises along one of my forearms two days before a concert, and I had to wear long sleeves while performing in ninety-degree weather outside.
Allie sees the bruises, but she knows that I’m legally stuck with Rick.
If she were to confront him, he would remove her from my team, and I can’t lose Allie.
She’s the only person on my team that I actually trust. Even my bodyguards report to Rick—no one else is looking out for me beyond what money I can make them.
Me
Don’t call Rick. Please. I’ve asked you that multiple times.
Roman
Then don’t make me and be a good little show pony… but I do like when u beg. We could have fun w/that babe.
Me
Hell no. Allie will coordinate with Preston.
Roman
Now that’s a good girl.
Roman
I knew u could be smart. Saw a video from ur concert last night...
Last night’s concert had been a sellout, and for one of my outfits, I rocked these purple sequined shorts that Fiona talked me into with a white sequined halter top.
The crowd had great energy and I thought it was a great set.
Roman doesn’t usually comment about my concerts, or anything that isn’t about him, so maybe he’s trying here.
Roman
Did u gain more weight? Maybe like, IDK, eat salads or cut out carbs. Just sayin but don’t lose the boobs, it’s believable that I would be w/u for those alone & ur amazing lips. Speaking of, I think we should see what they look like wrapped around me.
Me
Gross. Don’t look at my lips or comment about my body, asshole.
Roman
I love our chats, babe. So great. Can’t wait to see u and show u how much I miss u and ur juicy ass.
“You look like you’re going to be sick.” Allie pulls my attention away from the sleazebag. I shake my head and hand her my phone so she can read the conversation.
“How long do I really have until my next interview?”
Allie checks the time on her phone. “Uh … eight minutes.”
“I need a minute.” I walk into my bathroom connected to my bedroom in the hotel suite.
Leaning my hands against the countertop, I look at my reflection and try to shake off Roman’s comments about my body.
I know I need a lot more than the one minute I have until the next press call, but like most of my life, it’s not up to me how I spend my time or live my life.
Before I can spiral, Allie calls out a warning from the kitchen that I have less than a minute until the interview starts.
“I’ll be right there,” I call back and splash some cold water on my face. I quickly look away from my reflection before I glance back at the sad girl in the mirror, because if I look too long and too closely, I might break, but the reality is, no one ever really sees that girl.
They only see what they want to see—and it isn’t me.