Luna
The notes on my desk and my laptop start to blur together, and I have to blink several times before my vision clears.
“I need a break.” I toss my pen down on the desk and close my laptop.
I have enough written down to get a clear view of what book three will look like, and I'm confident that my readers will enjoy this one as much as the first.
I pick up my phone from my desk, intending to doomscroll before making myself some food, but when I turn it on, a VidTok notification pops up. The timestamp in the corner reads ‘Just Now’. I click the notification, and it takes me to Wolfy’s profile. “Oh fuck,” I say, my mouth hanging open.
The video starts with a well-dressed man leaning against a motorcycle —the kind all the hot masktokers have. He wears his full-face helmet, which tilts through several angles until he’s looking down at the viewer. “Good girl,” he says, using the voice modulator from the last VidTok.
I’m the first to like the video, and it reminds me I didn’t post the one I made. “Shit.” There’s no caption on this video, but I have been added as a collaborator.
I’m going to have to reshoot that video now. Great. I think quickly and decide to comment on the video, making it sound like I hired him:
“This’ll help get the tea pages off my back.” That hope was dashed the moment I got another notification from Wolfy —this time, a reply to my comment:
I stare at the comment for a few minutes, my brain short-circuiting. There’s no way he’s asking me to meet him, right? I refresh the page, and his comment already has over 100 likes in such a short time. I turn off my screen and set my phone down on my desk.
This can’t be happening.
My phone buzzes loudly against my desk, making me jump. I turn the phone over to see Olivia’s name, and I already know what she’s going to say. “Hell–”
“You have to do it! This would bring so much publicity to your book! You have to meet him, Luna!” Olivia shouts on the other end.
“Olivia, please think rationally here for a second. You want me to meet a strange masked man from the internet?”
“Not any, strange masked man, a hot, popular masked man. It’s Wolfy! He’s different!” Olivia counters.
“I think you’re letting your libido control your mind right now. He’s completely anonymous. Why would he even risk meeting me in the first place?”
“Exactly, Luna! He’s risking his identity and his reputation to meet you.
He wouldn’t risk exposing himself to his half a million followers after working so hard to keep himself a secret if he didn’t have pure intentions.
” I consider what Olivia is saying, and I can’t help but agree.
She’s right, he wouldn’t risk exposing himself if he wasn’t serious about the offer.
“I wasn’t going to tell you this yet because I don’t have a final count, but, Luna, with the Boston Times announcing you as its best-selling author, and these Wolfy videos, I haven’t been able to keep your special editions on the shelf.
I’ve already had to put in another order because I’m down to my last few books.
Look, I’m not saying to meet the guy at his place, you could book a studio in the city where they have security on site and cameras. ”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that. I’ll think about it.” I hate when she’s right. My phone buzzes, and the notification says that Wolfy messaged me. “Olivia, he just sent me a message!”
“Read it now!”:
“Fuck that’s so hot,” Olivia says.
I have to hold in my laugh, “Olivia, stop drooling.” She makes a slurping sound, and I can’t help but give in to the giggles. I clear my throat, trying to rein us in. “Okay, we need to be serious.”
“You need to be seriously choking on that diiiiiiiick! Okay, I’m done.” Olivia hums, proud of her joke.
I ignore her. “I am a bit hesitant to meet him, but he seems to really want to keep it professional.”
“I agree. He even encouraged you to bring someone with you. It sucks that it can’t be me, though. Who would you bring with you?”
“I could always hire someone? Like a personal bodyguard for a few hours.”
Olivia gasps, “What about Mister Motorcycle Man from the other night?”
“Dante.” I correct, “ I could ask Dante, but you don’t think he would be put off by me meeting up with another man to make videos on the internet?”
“Well, there’s one way to find out. By the way, Jordyn texted me asking us to meet her before the coven gathering tomorrow so that we can go over all the details of the ball.”
“Thanks for reminding me, I forgot about the gathering. Yeah, whenever Jordyn wants to meet. I don’t have any other plans tomorrow.”
“Awesome. I’ll put us in a group chat, and Jordyn can tell us what time it is. I’ve gotta get back to work, now, though. See you tomorrow, Loo.”
“Bye, Liv. See you tomorrow.” I hit end, making my way to my bedroom, and toss my phone onto my bed. I walk to the bottom of the bed and lean forward, flopping down onto the mattress.
I roll over, staring up at my ceiling, and I can’t stop smiling.
I should feel scared because my apartment was broken into a few days ago—but I don’t.
It’s not that I feel at peace about it; nothing about it is peaceful, but I still want to live my life.
I don’t want to keep letting the bad things that happen to me control me.
After my parents died, I was being pushed around from foster home to foster home, and every foster home was the same and never allowed me to do anything for myself—until I was at Dollies.
I had some freedom at the beginning, but I quickly learned that freedom comes at a cost. It costs you your time, your body, and your dignity.
I was made to do things no one should ever be forced to do, but I survived.
I fell for someone who I thought was different. Greg promised me everything, and I believed him. I should have seen the red flags, but I was so desperate to be loved that I was blinded—but I still survived it.
And now, I’m a best-selling author who turned her pain into her career, and I’ll be damned if I let this break-in break me.
I miss being social. I miss interacting with people, now that I’ve had a taste of it again. Tomorrow will be the start of my reentry into a normal life. I will continue to make friends and take risks because I deserve to be happy.
I finish lacing my Vans and check my phone for the time. Jordyn texted Olivia and me this morning, telling us to meet her at Pyre at 1:30. I slip on my cropped faux-leather jacket over my black, fitted crop top and tuck my phone into the pocket of my jeans.
I grab my keys and purse and head down to the parking garage with fifteen minutes to spare before I need to be at Pyre. The chill from outside hits me as I open the garage door, and I shiver, pulling my jacket closed. I hurry to my car, but before I can open my door, my eye catches the wheel well.
Just take a look, you still have time.
I grab my phone out of my pocket and flip the flashlight on. I bent down, looking where Dante found the tracker the other day, but to my surprise, nothing was there. I look at my other wheel wells, and they are clear, too.
Today is a new start. This is good news.
I sigh heavily, a weight being lifted as I get in my car.
The drive to Pyre is quiet, and I park down by the service entrance as instructed. Jordyn stands in the doorway, smiling and waving with Olivia. I get out of my car, and Olivia walks up, hugging me first. “Hey, Liv.”
“Hello, to you too. Ready to talk all things bookish ball?” Olivia beams.
“Oh, I’m very ready. I’m actually excited about it now. I think it will be fun.”
“Of course it will be!” Jordyn says as we walk up to her. “I only ever do fun, and I love to take risks.” Jordyn hugs me, and we follow her as she guides us through the service entrance, coming out through the kitchens on the first floor.
Pyre being well-lit during the day is just as beautiful as when it’s bathed in red lights and crowded with sweaty dancing bodies at night.
I can now appreciate the dark wooden floor that complements the wrought-iron banisters.
My eyes drift from floor to floor, and on the second floor, the windows lining the outer wall feature a stained-glass design that runs the full length of each window.
“Wow, Jordyn, this place is amazing,” I say, as my mouth hangs open, as I keep turning around and around, looking at everything.
There are even giant candelabras that line the pillars near the stairs that I missed last time!
“Thank you. Pyre is my pride and joy. I bought this place when I had nothing left to my name. I left the city I grew up in to escape my abusive marriage, and I moved here. I had to start over, bat my long lashes, and give the Loan Officer a sob story at the bank to get this place, but it was the first piece of something that was mine —and here we are, almost ten years later. Pyre takes care of me, and I take care of her,” Jordyn says, giving one of the pillars a pat as we head up the stairs.
I’m left speechless. Jordyn came here for the same reason as I did. Ten years ago. I look to Olivia, and she gives me a knowing smile. Maybe that’s why she wanted me to meet her, because she’s like me. Independent, driven, and will do whatever she can to survive.