Chapter 30 Main Character Energy #2
Kelley answers instead, voice stripped of humor for once. “If it breaks wide, it’s messy. If you move first, you keep control. That’s the whole game.”
August nods. “There’s no clear proof. Costume party. Bad angle. Jacket’s not a smoking gun. Right now, it’s noise.”
He meets my eyes. “And we don’t let noise write our story.”
His voice softens. “Perdóname, mi amor.”
He kisses my forehead.
And then—
“Oh, it’s the Spanish,” Kelley says, like he’s cracked the Da Vinci Code.
I blink.
August sighs, long and exhausted. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Kelley gestures between us. “This whole thing. The smooth talk. The intensity. The Latin lover energy. You hit her with the telenovela starter pack.”
August rolls his eyes. Hard. “Isn’t there anywhere else in the world you’d rather be right now?”
There’s a flicker of a smirk anyway.
“Are you serious right now?” I ask Kelley.
He shrugs. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You are,” I say flatly. “Maybe try minding your own damn business instead of diagnosing mine.”
August huffs a quiet laugh despite himself.
Then my phone buzzes.
Wynter.
The levity drains instantly.
I inhale once. Steady.
“I need to go,” I say, already moving. “I need to see her.”
August’s concern sharpens. “Harlee—”
“I’m okay,” I cut in, voice firm now. Not spiraling. Focused. “But last night was hers. And I disappeared.”
That lands heavier than the photo ever did.
“I need to make that right.”
“I need something to wear,” I say, already turning toward his room.
No panic. Just motion.
I came straight from the club. No panties. No backup plan. Just the quiet weight of everything pressing in at once.
I grab the edge of the bed to steady myself.
“Hey,” August says softly. “You okay, princesa?”
I shake my head. “No. But I will be.”
That’s the truth.
“This isn’t just about us,” I add. “Last night was Wynn’s. And I'm here with you, and I don't even want to unpack the fact that, your best. friend and buisness is also now here too. So yeah, I need to bounce.”
He doesn’t argue.
He nods like that was never in question. “Then let’s go.”
He hands me joggers and slides. I pull them on, oversized and functional. Good enough.
“I’ll drive,” he adds. “It’s pouring.”
We move through the apartment quickly now. Purpose replacing comfort. Kelley’s voice murmurs from the other room, low and serious. Not my problem.
At the door, August pauses just long enough to meet my eyes.
“I’m right here, mami,” he says. “Say what you need to say. I’ve got the rest.”
I squeeze his hand once. “Thank you.”
The rain hits cold and steady as we step into the hallway. The city feels muted, like it knows better than to interrupt.
The drive blurs into wet streets and smeared lights.
Across town, my building comes into view.
This isn’t about damage control.
It’s about showing up.
I open the door and step into the storm.
Inside, candlelight flickers from the living room. I follow the hum of Wynter’s voice and stop short in the doorway.
She’s dancing. Singing into her phone like it’s a mic. Barefoot. Radiant. Completely in her element.
I blink.
“Harlee!” she squeals when she sees me, yanking out a headphone and spinning toward me. “You’re home early!”
“Uh… hey?” I say, the word coming out like a question.
She clocks my face immediately. “What happened?”
“I just—I love you,” I blurt. “And I didn’t mean to mess anything up. I hope you can forgive me.”
Her brows knit. “Forgive you for what? Did something happen with August?” She straightens, already fired up. “Whose ass we beatin’? I’ll grab my steel-toe boots.”
“No. No, it’s not that,” I rush. “August and I are fine. But we should talk.”
I guide her to the couch.
“Wynter, I’m so sorry if I took focus off your performance last night. That was your moment. And I just… disappeared.”
She stares at me for a second.
Then she throws her head back and laughs.
“Harlee. Sis. Nobody cared.”
I blink.
“I figured you dipped ‘cause you were drunk or boo’d up,” she continues. “I checked your location, saw you were with August. You were good.”
“But the photo—”
“What photo?” she cuts in. “The only pictures I’ve seen are of me throwing it back onstage. I’m viral, bitch.”
I freeze. “You’re what?”
She grabs her phone, scrolling fast. It’s clip after clip of her. Quotes. Screenshots. Interviews. Shade Room. Black Twitter. Everything.
“Kendrick’s boy wants to hop on the remix,” she says, glowing.
My jaw drops. “Wynter. That’s huge.”
“I know!” She beams. “And respectfully? You are not the main character today. I am. Everybody’s talking about Midnight Snack, not whatever drama you and your man have going on.”
“I thought Kelley said there was a photo—”
“Girl,” she snorts. “Lucid is a Black club in downtown Chicago. Ain’t nobody pressed over y’all. Even if someone noticed something, it’s not trending. You and August were background noise. I love you, but I’m the headline.”
The tension drains out of my body so fast I almost sag into the couch.
“You sure?”
“Positive. Unless you were getting freaky with Monroe Hart in the DJ booth, nobody’s paying attention.”
That does it. I laugh. Hard. The absurdity crashes over me, relief hot behind my eyes.
“You okay now?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Thanks to you.”
“Good.” She grins. “Now get outta those wet clothes. We’re celebrating. My single’s blowing up, and I want fries.”