Chapter Thirty-Four – Alex
Don’t even try to take my loose laughter with some piece of advice,
Today I put on red lipstick.
I’ve been making joy my gift
In every corner, I see the bright side.
Velha e Louca - Malu Magalh?es
The boys left at nine for the photoshoot, and I spent the next few hours with Dani and Bia doing skincare, taking premium showers, and carefully picking out what we were going to wear.
Looking at me now, anyone could tell I wasn’t the one who chose the ankle boots, the high-waisted jeans, or the long cardigan I’ve got on. And yet… I loved it.
“Our first stop is lunch,” Beatriz reads from the list she planned for the day.
“What do you guys think about barbecue?”
“No offense, sis-in-law. But your dad makes that all the time.”
“Burgers. What about burgers?” I suggest, and their smiles are instant.
Thirty minutes later, we’re placing our orders and sitting at a red table at Five Guys, laughing over the fans’ wild theories about A.J.’s mystery illness, with two baskets of free peanuts lining our stomachs.
“It’s crazy how these guys say the most random stuff ever, and their fans go banging pots on Twitter to defend them,” Beatriz says, scrolling through the heated threads.
“And they do it while cursing out people they’ve never even met,” I add, popping two peanuts into my mouth.
“Oh, come on, didn’t you guys ever stan anyone?” Dani teases.
“We had jobs as teenagers, Daniele,” I shoot back, and she sticks out her tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with loving someone, but the moment you start fighting strangers online over an illness you don’t even know is real…”
“Yeah, we’ve crossed a line there…” Beatriz agrees, cracking open a stubborn peanut shell.
“Honestly, I feel bad for them sometimes. Public life is all smoke and mirrors. They only know what we let them see, and that’s it. Watching those girls speculate about autoimmune diseases or types of flu that don’t even make a person look sick… it’s too much,” Dani admits.
“Right? They’ll never know that A.J. just didn’t feel like…”
“But are you sure, Alex?” Beatriz frowns at me, curious. “What if he really is hiding something? Like, I don’t know… a disgusting cavity or something.”
“I live with the guy, Bia. A.J. was just as fine last weekend as he is today.”
Still, part of me is relieved there was no kiss. After everything that happened, I’d feel weird picking a Vagabonder for him to kiss.
It’s silly, I know. But still…
“Isn’t it, Ale?” Daniele asks, leaning across the table, and I blink at her and Beatriz, confused.
“Sorry, I wasn’t here.”, I say, realizing my mind had wandered and I didn’t catch the question.
“I was just saying… in a few months, you’ve been all over Brazil, around Europe, and now getting to know other places here too.” Daniele smiles, resting her hand on mine. “It must feel like a dream.”
“Oh, it totally is. The European leg of the tour was super flexible, we got to explore, see the sights, even check out local stuff people actually do. It was perfect.” I sigh, just thinking about it.
“And before that, we toured in amazing places in Brazil. Honestly, I have zero complaints about the destinations. It really has been a dream.”
“I want to go to Europe so bad, you know? Rick and I have always talked about backpacking… and seeing more of Brazil too. Maybe we’ll squeeze it in between the next album drop and the tour.
He already knows most of the places, he’d know where to take me,” Daniele says, dreamy-eyed and smiling, while Beatriz stands up.
“I’m heading to the bathroom, be right back.”
“Want some company?”
“No need. I’ll also check on our order—it’s usually quicker,” Bia says, and before I can say anything else, she’s already walking away.
“She’s not actually going to the bathroom,” Dani says a little awkwardly. “She just doesn’t like being around when I talk about Rick… because of my brother and all.”
“How long have you and Rick been together?”
“We’ve been something for a long time…” She smiles, eyes full of memories. “But it officially became a relationship about two and a half years ago.”
“And why doesn’t Guilherme know?”
“Because he wouldn’t take it well. At first, it was nothing, just silly fan stuff.
I was seventeen and completely starstruck that he even looked at me, so there was no point in mentioning it.
Then I turned eighteen, and it started happening more often.
Before I knew it, I was pretending to be at A.J.
’s just so I could be with Rick,” she admits, tying her hair up into a high ponytail, her cropped tee now fully visible: ‘Sorry for having great tits and correct opinions’.
“Time went by, and we never drifted. It was never ‘just fun’ or ‘just a phase’—we just kept loving each other more.”
“So you’re just gonna keep hiding forever?”
“No. We agreed we’d tell everyone once we were sure it was for real. And we’re sure now.” She shrugs. “We’re gonna tell the family at the end of the tour and… the plan is to start the next one, which should be in about a year, married.”
Married .
Here I am, not even managing to date properly, and this twenty-two-year-old girl is out here planning a wedding.
And they say Gen Z doesn’t commit.
“What about you and A.J.?” There’s something in Daniele’s tone that says she knows. And even though I kind of want to kill A.J., my best friend clearly knows too—so I let it slide.
“We’re good. It was just a one-time thing… We’re fine now. Better.”
“Really?” Daniele says just as Beatriz returns to the table. “Cause for him, it seemed like it meant a lot more…”
“We’re friends. And, I mean, have you seen the amount of girls lining up to flash him in his DMs?”
“I don’t think A.J. sees you the way he sees random fans he kisses once and never talks to again…” Beatriz chimes in, unexpectedly defending the guy.
“Yeah, but they don’t forget him. There’s this girl who comments the same little sunglasses emoji and a red heart on every single post A.J. makes. Every one. Since before Vicious was even a thing. And ours too! You guys should check!”
“For someone who’s not interested, you sure went deep in that feed.”
“How cute, she said ‘this girl’ but meant ‘trashy rando,’” Beatriz says to Daniele, and the two burst out laughing.
“You know what I think?” Daniele starts, but I shake my head and cut her off. I don’t want to go there right now.
“I think we should talk about Bia’s acting course,” I say. “I don’t want to be that kind of friend group that only gets together to talk about guys.”
“I’m going to remember you said that—just to count how many times you bring up A.J. when you two finally get together,” Bia mutters, eyes on Daniele like they’re plotting. “Anyway, my course starts January sixteenth. It’s four months long and I’m excited.”
“And what about our food, sis-in-law?” Daniele asks, rubbing her stomach.
“Two orders away from ours.”
“Seriously? It’s not even that crowded,” I complain, glancing toward the counter just as a delivery guy picks up someone’s food. “Ugh, stupid delivery… So, you wanted to do this course here because you want to act here ?”
“No… It’s more like… I feel kinda… It’s not that I’m rusty, I love acting and I know I’m great at it.” Bia scratches the back of her neck, searching for words. “But you know when the industry just… shifts? It changed, and I didn’t see it happen…”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to take a course over there? With the people who actually work in that market?” Daniele says exactly what I was thinking.
“Yeah, it would. But I’d have to be there to do that. And I wanted to be here .” Bia raises her eyebrows, those honey-colored eyes sparkling, and we laugh at how hard she works to avoid saying it’s all about her guy.
“And what about you—any plans for when you go back?” Daniele asks. “A.J.’s been annoying me with research and questions about MPB, the MPB scene. Are you planning to do shows when you’re home again?”
Before I even answer, I mentally note to ask A.J. why he’s talking to Dani about this. But then I delete the thought. The guy’s allowed to be interested in whatever genre he wants.
“Not yet. My manager’s handling all that. We thought it’d be better to release the songs I’ve written first, and then book shows, you know?”
“Funny you say that—he asked me for a list the other day. Brazilian artists who do MPB and also sing in English, like you do,” Bia adds.
“We’ve never talked about that.” I snap felling betrayed. “Not that I care if he talks to you guys about MPB, but I’m literally right there!” I say, under their judgmental stares.
“Well, it’s A.J., right? The guy’s not exactly stable,” Beatriz says, and both Daniele and I narrow our eyes at her.
But we don’t have time to defend our boy, our order number gets called.
Each of us ordered a bacon double cheeseburger with medium fries, which, as it turns out, was a mistake. They don’t serve them in those cute little branded boxes like at McDonald’s. Nope. They hand you a paper bag with a cup of fries inside.
Except the fries aren’t just in the cup. They’re everywhere . The whole bag is filled.
Daniele laughs at my reaction and swears they taste even better with Coke the next morning, reheated in the oven. As if I’d ever take leftover fries on a road trip.
She ignores my protests and says her backpack will be thrilled to carry some extra grease.
We eat while talking about how good the food is and what we expect from the last two weekends of tour.
Daniele launches into all the content she’s planning to create during this final stretch to keep the socials alive while the next album is still in the works.
I’m about to dive back into my fries, when my phone buzzes in my pocket, I reach for it as it buzzes again, and I’m not even surprised to see A.J. ’s name on the screen.
A.J.: Hey, Miss Petulant.
I read it with a warm little smile. I can’t even remember the last time he called me that, but I love it.
A.J.: How’s everything over there?
Me: Great, Golden Boy. You?
Typing that was way easier than I expected. No hesitation at all.
A.J.: Good food, good drinks, terrible company.
A.J.: I’d rather be home with you, watching good movies in good company while eating one of those awful mystery meals you make.
He’s teasing me.
Me: The ones you always eat and go back for seconds, obviously.
Me: What can I even say about your kitchen skills, when I had to come to Five Guys just to get a decent burger? You promised me one months ago and I’ve never even smelled it…
A.J.: ‘I’ve never even smelled it’ makes zero sense, even in Portuguese.
A.J.: Wait a sec, you’re at Five Guys ?
Me: Yeah. With the girls.
A.J.: I expected a lot from you, Alexandra, but not betrayal. I can’t believe you’re out there eating another man’s burger.
I read it and burst out laughing.
They both glare at me.
“So, talking about guys is off-limits, but smiling at your phone is fine now?” Daniele snarks.
“Sorry,” I say, locking the screen.
But I don’t stop laughing anytime soon. A.J.’s jealousy is genuinely hilarious.
“Do you guys already know what you’re doing for his birthday?” Daniele asks, casually breaking the same rule she just mocked.
“Birthday? I don’t even know when it is.”
“December 27th.”
“Yikes. Right after Christmas? That sucks.” Beatriz makes a face so dramatic it makes us laugh.
“Yeah, it’s the worst. But he hasn’t said anything about it… We could plan something.”
“Like a surprise party!” Beatriz suggests, eyes lighting up.
“A.J. doesn’t do birthdays. Usually, we just hang out, eat junk, and watch movies. But this year he said he’d stay home. I don’t know… You’ve changed so many things about him, I thought maybe this would be one of them too.”
“Why wouldn’t someone like A.J. celebrate his birthday?” Beatriz asks what I’ve been wondering myself.
“Okay, let’s do some basic math,” Daniele sighs, appalled we haven’t figured it out on our own. “He’s an only child. His birthday falls between Christmas and New Year’s, so he’s always spent it with his parents… And after he left home…”
“Oh,” is all I manage to say. Because I get it.
It hurts to know even that got swallowed up by guilt.
The silence at the table stretches and Daniele checks her phone as Beatriz lets out a long breath.
“Well, I think we’re all full, right?” Bia asks, eyeing the crumpled wrappers and the three bags of half-eaten fries.
“Let’s head to the Hollywood Walk of Fame for photos.
I also thought we could swing by Beverly Hills—the sign there is way cooler than the Hollywood one.
Then our list says to look for a drive-in theater.
” She’s already on her phone, calling our ride.
“I’m in,” I say, excited—though now wondering what car we’ll take to a drive-in.
Daniele looks between us, deadpan, while stuffing one bag of fries into another and shoving them into her backpack.
“Seriously? Who wants to go to a drive-in movie with friends ?” she asks, baffled.
“You do, Daniele,” I say. “You’re gonna stop being obsessed with that man for one afternoon and go see a movie with us.”
***
Spending the day with the girls and saying goodbye in the hotel hallway at 9 PM was perfect. In the simplest, most ordinary way—it recharged me. Maybe because, for the first time in a long while, I let myself enjoy something so silly and unplanned.
Beatriz and I never talked about the fallout after I went to Guilherme’s house.
It didn’t come up today either. And surprisingly…
it doesn’t bother me the way I thought it would.
At the end of the day, everyone carries their own weight, and expecting an explanation for something that was never really about me would just be selfish.
The only problem with this perfect day—and what’s been echoing in my head as I get ready to meet A.J. before our flight back—is the movie we watched: My Best Friend’s Wedding .
After judging Daniele so hard, now I feel terrible. I spent the whole movie missing him. I wanted to hear his sarcastic comments, argue over the characters’ choices, even dance to the wedding song in the middle of the living room—like only the two of us would.
And that sucks.
I should stop.
But part of me, the very same part that smiled when I noticed he hadn’t kissed a single fan last weekend, doesn’t want to.