Chapter Thirty-One - Becca
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
My phone sits quietly on the edge of the desk in my hotel room.
The screen is dark. But even with it powered off, it still seems to mock me.
The phantom sound of it vibrating against the wood grain makes me want to burrow back under the sheets and duvet where I’ve been hiding for the last half hour.
My eyes land on the door. The slam it made when Lucky left echoes in my mind, making my chest tighten.
Do you honestly believe that I would kiss you the way I kissed you last night, that I would tell you that I’m falling for you and then have it all turn out to be some kind of publicity stunt? I’ve done a lot of stupid shit for my channel, Becca, but I would never do that. Especially not to you.
Lucky’s words hang over my head like smoke, and every time I try to inhale a deep breath, my lungs pucker.
Now that the shock and adrenaline have worn off, I can’t stop thinking of the accusation I’d hurled at him, the way I’d tried to paint him as the bad guy. All influencers wear a mask and we all play games—even me. But the hurt I’d seen in his eyes, in his body language? That was real.
It was enough to convince me that he hadn’t been involved in what happened, but I’d been too angry and afraid and overwhelmed to tell him.
Then, he brought my mom into it.
I wanted to deny it, to scream for the world to hear that he was wrong, but the moment he’d said the words, something had cracked inside me. It was the truth I didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to face.
My mom and I have been on a sinking ship for a while now. No matter how much I scramble to try to bail us out, the water keeps rising. My mom is an alcoholic, and she isn’t going to get better on her own. The truth is, she’s dragging me down with her.
“Lucky was right about everything,” I murmur as a tear slips down my cheek.
Last night had felt like a dream, and now, everything is a disaster. I’m used to cleaning up messes—life with my mother has taught me well—but I have no idea what to do with this one.
Uncertainty spreads through my body, cold and numbing. All I want to do is to sink into the oblivion of sleep, where the internet and my own mistakes can’t hurt me.
But whether I like it or not, I’m still a Starlight Challenge finalist and the competition isn’t over yet.
I drag myself to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I’m in and out in a few minutes, barely feeling the scalding water. I’m dressed in even less time, throwing the rest of my stuff in my bag.
According to our itinerary, we’re supposed to meet downstairs in half an hour for breakfast, and since I can’t stand the idea of staying in my hotel room for another minute alone with my thoughts, I make for the lobby.
I pass Lucky’s door on the way to the elevator, quickening my pace so I’m not tempted to stop, and punch the down button with more force than necessary.
I know I need to talk to him, but I’m just not ready for that conversation. At least not yet.
I’m the first one in the green room, but it’s obvious from the way all the Starlight producers stop and stare when I walk in that Lucky and I are the topic of conversation.
I grab a muffin and cup of coffee, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, and plop down in one of the metal chairs.
They usually don’t film us this early, but I’m not surprised when one of the gals with a clipboard waves her arm at someone across the room.
Tony appears a few seconds later, his camera already propped up on his shoulder.
I shove the muffin in my mouth, trying to keep my face neutral, but I don’t think I’m doing a good job because I see Tony peer around the eyepiece of his camera, his eyes narrowed in concern.
It only lasts a second, but that moment peppers through me and I know I can’t do this.
I can’t just sit here waiting for everyone else to arrive.
I’m half a second away from fleeing when Sean walks in, Iris on his heels. They’re smiling and laughing about something, but when they see me, the easy, jovial expressions fade. They’re looking at me the same way people stare at a horrendous car accident on the side of the road.
Focusing on my muffin, I stuff another bite in my mouth.
Ross and Ziven are next. Ross has his PSP in front of his face, though I catch his eyes flicking in my direction a few times. Ziven doesn’t even try to hide his interest in me, his lips quirked up in a smirk as he helps himself to the buffet.
Evie and Skai are last. Evie’s expression doesn’t change, but Skai offers a tentative half smile. It’s one of those, I’m so glad I’m not you smiles and it kills what’s left of my appetite. Suspicion burns through me as I push the rest of my muffin away.
They all had motive. Any one of them could have followed us out into the parking lot last night.
This is a competition, and nobody in this room cares about my reputation . . . or my heart.
A wave of loneliness mixed with sadness crashes into me, and I almost jump up from my chair. But Tony’s still filming, the lens of his camera one of a dozen other eyes laser-focused on my face.
I straighten my shoulders, determined not to reveal how I’m feeling. Despite the tornado of emotions swirling around inside me, I will not let these people see it.
Suddenly, the din of the room quiets, drawing my attention over to the door. Lucky is standing there wearing a hoodie and a backward cap, a lazy smile on his face.
Ziven walks over, slapping his palm against Lucky’s, and they share a few words that I can’t hear. The other finalists watch their exchange, along with all the Starlight execs. Tony stays focused on me, but at least two other camera people set their lenses on Lucky.
He nods and says hello to several of the execs, striding towards the buffet. He appears as if he’s taking everything in stride, per the usual Lucky DeLucca way. But his eyes catch mine for a moment, and I see it, the hurt from before.
Air whooshes from my lungs, making it hard to breathe. But at least, even now, we’re on the same page. We’re both still playing the game and doing what we have to do to stay on top in the competition. There should be some solace in that, at least.
But there isn’t.
I grab my bag, trying to appear calm and collected as I flee to the parking lot, opting to stand next to Clementine.
Tony doesn’t follow me, nor do any of the other Starlight people.
I stay there through the rest of the breakfast. I know there’s probably some instructions I’m missing, maybe even a speech from Dozer.
There might even be a discussion about Lucky and I. But I don’t go back. I can’t.
Before long, Lucky appears, his ball cap pulled low over his eyes. He doesn’t say anything as he opens the trunk, tossing his bag inside, and hands me a folder with the information for our final destination.
I crank the ignition and flip open the file while Lucky folds himself into the passenger seat.
I already know where we’re heading, but the big black words: ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA yell at me from the page, the bold lettering as loud as the scream I feel building in my chest.
Lucky’s staring straight ahead, his entire body tense.
I swallow and reverse the car, maneuvering out of the parking lot and onto the open road.
Neither of us says a word as Las Vegas disappears behind us.