Chapter Thirty-Six – A.J.
When people ask about us, now, we just brush it off
I don’t know why we act like it means nothing at all
I wish that I could tell you that you’re all that I want.
Why - Shawn Mendes
The store is obviously crowded, but the service is so fast that it doesn’t bother me. Pulling my phone out of my pocket to see Victor’s name on the screen, on the other hand, stresses me out.
I don’t answer. I check my messages to see if something's gone wrong — as far as Victor knows, I’m in New York with the guys, who promised they’d cover for me at least until my outing with Alexandra becomes news.
But it’s the conversation with Daniele that gives me the justification.
Dani 3: Did you forget to tell her you guys weren’t supposed to be posting about these little adventures of yours?
I didn’t forget. I just didn’t tell her. I want Alexandra to enjoy this day as much as possible. There’s not much Victor can do. He’s on the other side of the country, and I’ve managed to bring my security team. Everything’s under control.
As soon as my turn comes, I pay for the bow and feel my phone vibrate again.
“Victor?” I answer, stepping aside to hear him better.
“Can I know why you're parading around Disney with my backup singer instead of trying on your next wardrobe?”
“They have my measurements, and the guys know exactly what I like, Victor.”
“You understand you’re not the owner of this band, right?”
“Popstars make mistakes, Victor. It happens. I’m not claiming ownership of the band. I’m just taking a day off with a friend.”
I try to stay calm and speak softly, but there’s no way I’m going to be some businessman’s lapdog at this point.
“I put up with a lot, Anthony, but insubordination isn’t one of them.”
“Alright. We can talk about this in your office whenever you want,” I say, and his silence is followed by a deep breath. “But while I have you on the line, I wanted to know if you got my email.”
“Email? Paola didn’t mention anything. When did you send this crap?”
I pull the phone away from my ear and go to my drafts to resend the proposal I’ve spent the last few weeks putting together, hoping that even if things don’t go the way I’d like, Victor will at least make some minimal effort to help make it a reality.
“I just sent it again, take a look and let me know what you think?”
“Sure, Anthony. Because my job is all about you.”
“Seems like it. It’s 10 AM, and you’re trying to regulate me, so... I think you can read an email.”
“You’re a bad influence on that girl,” he mutters, the real reason for the call. “I got the email, but you can’t seriously expect me to read five pages of attachments.”
“It’s important, Victor, and you know I’m not insubordinate. It’s just...”
“A woman,” he complains. “And if you think about being late for the show, A.J....”
“We arrive in New York at noon, Victor. Daniele’s got everything covered.”
“Someone in this band needs to have some sense,” he retorts before hanging up.
And out of all the words I could use to describe my best friend, ‘sensible’ is not one of them.
I walk out of the store with a smile on my face and find Alexandra photographing a family with two kids dressed as Violet and Dash from The Incredibles. I approach, holding her bow with the classic Minnie ears.
“Here you go, Princess Alexandra,” I say, carefully placing it on her head. “Now you have a proper crown.”
Alexandra smiles and holds the sides of the ears, as if afraid they might disappear.
“Do I look ridiculous?”
“Not at all.”
“I’ll check on my phone. I don’t want to be walking around here if I look pathetic,” she unlocks the screen, but before she can switch to the front camera, I gently lower the phone
“You look perfect,” I reply without hesitation. “Now, let’s go. We’ve got a royal breakfast to enjoy!”
Getting the reservation seemed impossible.
Honestly, creating a great experience at Disney in just one day felt impossible.
But when we landed, our tickets, the Lightning Lane Multi Pass, and the itinerary were all in the email.
Because, despite how improbable it was to get all of this in one day, there are few things Daniele can’t achieve with Vicious Bonds’ name.
And when those things do pop up, she handles them with Victor Winterstone’s name.
One way or another, here we are, stepping into Cinderella’s Royal Table while Alexandra looks around, wide-eyed, and squeezes my hand too tightly.
Hammer’s team positions themselves discreetly, keeping fans at bay without us noticing. I don’t mind their intensity — most days, I enjoy attending to everyone. But today is not about me. It’s about Alex, and she can’t miss a single second of this.
The good thing is that, despite being worried about delivering the perfect day for her, Alexandra is oblivious to everything, caught between admiring the food — a muffin and a pancake shaped like Mickey’s head — and being charmed by the princesses stopping to chat with her.
I finish my pancake while watching Alexandra ’s eyes well up when Aurora, Belle, and Cinderella walk by, stopping for selfies and kind words. Of all the things I love about this moment, the smile on her face — just like the one she gave me at the Top of the Rock — is my favorite.
Snow White and Tiana approach to talk to her, and Alexandra looks at each of them with such affection that I’m forced to take my phone and photograph the interaction. They look at the camera and smile. I smile back at Alex, almost involuntarily.
When the princesses move on to another table, she seems to realize she hasn’t eaten anything. But I don’t reprimand her; My Miss Petulant was too busy living this moment.
As for me? I bite into my untouched muffin, too busy memorizing every second.
“I feel so silly for being this happy over something like this... but it’s so cool.”
“Please, Alexandra. I’m a man. We cry when our football team wins. And when they lose, too,” I say, making her hold back a laugh as she takes a big bite of her pancake.
“It’s so strange and incredible at the same time,” she comments, pausing. “I didn’t want to eat Mickey’s head, but eating his head feels so incredible!” she says, mouth still full. “Wow, it’s cold,” she complains, wrinkling her face in a grimace, and I throw a napkin at her.
“You have the terrible habit of letting the things I give you get cold.”
“It’s not my fault if you show up with food and say, ‘Hey, check out this food, now let’s make your biggest dream come true,’” she mimics poorly, and I burst out laughing. “Like, sorry, food. You’ll never win.” She shrugs, taking two more bites and sipping her sparkling water.
At least that one was already cold from the beginning.
“You have no idea what this means to me,” she says softly, placing her hand over mine on the table.
“Maybe I do,” I smile, turning my palm up and gently touching her fingers with mine. “But you can explain, if you want.”
Alexandra shakes her head, laughing.
“I never would’ve taken such an impulsive trip if it weren’t for you.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Are you sure about that?”
Alex hesitates, looks at the plate still holding half her food, then meets my gaze with a shy smile.
“Maybe, in another reality, I would’ve. With my mom. But in this one, all the credit goes to you.”
My throat tightens for a moment. This isn’t just any answer. I know what it means. And I feel happy — and grateful — to be the one who reignited those dreams in the girl with the stone heart and not-so-easy smile.
“I wish we had a week here to see everything.” I caress her hand on the table. “But since we don’t...”
“We need to make it worth it!” she interrupts, getting up with shining eyes. “What’s next on Dani’s itinerary for us?” she asks, intertwining her fingers with mine.
“We’ll find out.” I shoot her a wink, and she lights up with that giant smile I love so much.
We spend the morning hopping from one attraction to the next.
Alex points at every costume, every park character, and every tiny reference to the movies we've watched together — from the classic cartoons to the ones that entered this universe after Disney bought Fox and Pixar. Each discovery earns little squeals from Alexandra, and seeing this light, joyful, and emotional side of her makes me smile more times than I’d like to admit.
Between smiles, lines, and distant fan greetings, we make sure to catch Space Mountain and the Haunted Mansion. I made sure of it. I wanted to show Alexandra the classic rides of the park.
Throughout our time there, fans wave from a distance, some snap pictures, others shout, and some just make heart shapes with their hands.
And as much as I’d like to wave back or pose for pictures, I can’t.
Because, while they’re trying to get my attention, my eyes are fixed on the radiant girl beside me.
I’ll never understand how, out of everything we did after drinking all kinds of alcohol, I only remember this small fragment of the night: us talking in the kitchen island, already in the clothes we woke up in the next morning, eating microwave popcorn while she happily listed the absurd things from her dream list. But with every smile or enchanted look from Alexandra, I know I’ll always be grateful to remember it.
Back then, it was funny, and I had no idea I’d help her achieve some of those dreams. But now, I squeeze her fingers in mine, happy not just to show her that even impossible dreams can come true, but to experience it with her.
The sweet smell of fresh popcorn and waffles fills the air.
The trees, adorned with Christmas ornaments, hold golden and orange leaves that sway slowly in the breeze, enjoying the end of the season.
Everything feels carefully thought out, as if this place were designed to accomplish one sole mission: to make you happy.
And it looks like it’s working. Because she doesn’t stop smiling. And neither do I.