Chapter Twenty-Six. Luna
Chapter Twenty-Six
Luna
I’ve worked so hard to do everything right to get my career to where it finally is, and now my entire world is crumbling. I don’t know what to do.
“Can we stop at Big Ben?” I say to my driver.
“Of course, miss,” he agrees without hesitation. We’re five minutes from the studio, and this detour will take thirty minutes each way with the traffic right now. But I’m grateful he doesn’t question why I need to go there.
We drive to Big Ben and I can see my bodyguard’s hand rest on the door handle as he waits to see if I leave the car.
At the start of this tour I wouldn’t have worried about security at all, but now I’m afraid I’ll get mobbed if I step out alone in London when people know I’m here for a show.
“Can you pull over here?” I ask, and we pull up behind the red phone booth that has a perfect view of the clock tower.
I watch tourists line up to take pictures outside the phone booth, teenage girls striking poses and families pulling their children close.
The first time I came to London was to open for the Smith Squad tour.
My mom and I took a red-eye here, and it was our first time flying overseas.
I stayed up the entire flight with my mom, telling her all about the plane and the seats and trying everything on the menu.
After the shows we spent a day sightseeing in London, and this was my mom’s favorite spot.
Every subsequent trip to London we ended it by coming here.
I wish my mom were here.
It always seemed so easy for her to know the right thing to do.
That it was worth pushing through a cold to sing at my first football game, but also when it was time to call a recording session or rehearsal quits for the day, even though I hadn’t gotten it yet, because I was exhausted.
Now I’m living with no guardrails, just working and working and striving until one day maybe I’ll fall. But it’s gotten me here.
I remember the last time my mom and I came here.
I was crying over a boy, the boy before Hudson, another guy who didn’t really seem to like me that much when it came down to it.
And even though I now can see I hadn’t even truly fallen for him, I was still heartbroken, because why couldn’t I find it?
How come no matter how much I gave, I was always alone?
I don’t even have friends, not really. Not like when I was five and all we worried about was playing pretend.
It’s like I never left my make-believe world because it became real and everyone else moved on.
If I called my childhood best friend now, we’d have nothing to say because the only time we’ve talked in the last seven years is when my mother died.
I watch more groups of girls take photos at the phone booth, and finally a mother-daughter duo takes one. They look so happy. My heart aches and I know that I would give up everything to have my mom back. Forget my career—it doesn’t matter compared to my mom.
And I think I know what I need to do.
I pull out my phone and call Riley. “Hey,” I say when she picks up.
“Hi. Are you okay?” She sounds surprised. Which I guess makes sense, given the circumstances. I was so distant at the hotel, and I feel badly about it, because Riley is so warm and open and doesn’t play games like the other people I’ve dated.
“Yes,” I say firmly. “Listen, I saw your text.… We can circle back now if you still want to come to the studio.”
Riley hesitates. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I say, and I hope she can hear that I mean it. I want to fight for us. I want to fight to have both my career and Riley.
“Then I’ll see you soon.”