Chapter 42 Aria
Aria
The Chart Topper Music Awards party begins with a red carpet walk, segues into a seated dinner, and rounds out in the awards presentations—which are also broadcast on television. It’s a welcome break from the studio where Aria has been camped out ever since Gerald cornered her on the video chat.
Aria brings Bailey as her guest, and when their limo pulls up to the guest drop-off, they step out to an explosion of camera flashes from the crowd of photographers waiting behind the metal barricades that flank the red carpet.
Aria smiles and waves, temporarily blinded by the lights, and Bailey hangs behind her. It’s a comfort to know she’s there, like backup in case things get dicey.
Aria is well-trained by now, and she stops and poses, turning so each photographer can get their shot. After a minute, she waves before passing the fenced-in media section toward the true red carpet.
She pauses and slips her phone out of the heavy beaded clutch, thoughts of Griffin floating through her mind.
Griffin had his surgery yesterday, and despite his coffee shop declaration, Aria reached out. She didn’t expect a quick response—if at all—knowing he would be groggy. And even if he didn’t want to hear from her, it was important to Aria that she send well-wishes at the least.
Aria: How’re you healing up? I hear you’re in the fanciest of digs.
His reply came surprisingly quickly on Friday evening.
Griffin: It’s luxury in a hospital way. Not sure if I’d recommend it to a friend unless surgery is explicitly required.
Aria smiled. She’d been toying with the idea of inviting him as her guest this evening until she learned of the surgery date. It seemed like an easy grab to keep up appearances, and Bailey couldn’t care less for black-tie events.
Aria: So there won’t be a five-star review in their future?
Griffin: There’s no pool, and room service ends at eight. How do they expect me to live like this? ??
Aria: It's basically prison.
He hadn’t replied right away, and Aria assumed he’d nodded off. Or maybe a doctor had come into his room, or support staff asking if he needed help to the restroom.
When Aria glances at her phone moments before stepping onto the red carpet, reporters spread out in dots along the walk, prepared to pepper the musician guests with questions. There’s still no reply from Griffin.
It grates at her more than she would like.
Aria closes her eyes, stretches her head gently from side to side, then pulls in a slow, self-soothing breath. She’s got this. Walking a red carpet and taking questions is where her superpower—putting on her armor and getting stuff done—shines brightest.
“You ready?” Bailey asks gently at her side.
“I was born ready,” Aria says, shoving every thought of Griffin from her mind.
She steps onto the ruby carpet as if it’s a catwalk, stretching her legs in large strides, eyeing the cameras with a playful smirk.
A few hoots ring out, and Aria knows she’s hit her mark.
The media loves her when she plays along.
In times past, when she’s been tired—probably on the verge of burnout—she’s phoned it in, walking primly, smiling brightly, and waving like a member of the royal family.
Every time it fell flat. What they love is when she puts on the same act as her shows.
“Aria! Aria!” All of the interviewers call out for her to stop and talk with them. It’s customary for her to stop once or twice, and admittedly she has her favorites. Aria loves Ken Gossling from Culture News because he asks interesting questions and is never looking to trip her up.
Aria spots him and goes to him.
Ken winks as he pushes the microphone out in front of her. “Aria, we’re all so thrilled to see you here tonight. There’s so much excitement about your new tour, but maybe most of all, fans are desperate for details on your personal life. How is Griffin Hayes healing up?”
Aria’s smile falters. She should’ve known Ken would be keen enough to detect that the friendship between Aria and Griffin was sincere. He wouldn’t be asking about it if he thought it was a sham. She rights herself.
“He has been put up in the most comfortable manner with many professionals at his side, helping him get back into tip-top shape, so I guess we can say, as well as possible considering the situation.”
Aria smiles and nods, leaning in as the crowd noise around her kicks up.
Ken continues, “And of course, his crew would include you, his best friend? What’s it been like to see your good friend endure an injury of this extent? Certainly it’s been a challenge?”
Aria lets her gaze drop, and she curls her lips into one another.
She likes Ken because he asks questions that reflect her as a whole person, but for this very reason, perhaps she should’ve skipped him today.
The truth is that Aria’s been having many feelings about Griffin since the injury.
She’s been concerned for him. She’s been confused about his pulling away.
She’s been yearning for the special shimmer he brings to her life, the way he makes her feel like she’s floating away from all the hard parts, as if he’s her personal hot-air balloon.
It’s been necessary to buckle down in the studio.
Gerald didn’t mince words about that. But also maybe, just maybe, Aria has been using that, along with the tour preparation, to avoid having to think too hard about these things.
About why her feelings for Griffin are so intense and why she can’t simply allow him to pull away like he wants to.
Sure, she’s no expert at friendship, but she’s practically an expert in the ends of friendships. If nothing else, her past friendships have taught her how to let go.
But this time she can’t make it work the same.
Aria looks up at Ken. “It’s been really hard, to be honest. I can’t be as close to Griff as I’d like to be right now. It’s the time for his professional staff to be front and center, but it’s devastating to know my friend is dealing with such a serious injury.”
“I guess that’s the thing about friendships—they endure even in the hard parts.”
Aria nods. “I’m doing my best. And I’m also working on a new album!”
An urge to go to Griffin to show him that she cares washes over her again. If she could rewind time to when he was in her studio and replay that section in a loop, the album would probably be done by now.
“Oh, don’t tease us with new music! Details?”
Aria winks. “You know I can’t right now.”
“So, what about Griffin? When will we get our next dose of friend content? We’re dying out here.” Ken grins.
“If I had my way, he’d be my plus-one tonight, but he needs to recover. As soon as we get some content-worthy hang time, I promise you all will be the first to know.”
Aria steps back, raising a hand to Ken in farewell, and heads down the carpet. She stops in the middle, where a staff member wearing all black and a headset instructs her to pose. A sea of flashing lights greets her, along with calls for “This way, Aria! This way!”
She plays up the poses, channeling her inner powerhouse, but inside she’s a mess of jumbled feelings.
Aria can’t stop thinking about Griffin.
At dinner she makes polite conversation with the others at her table, and when she’s announced as an award winner, she takes the stage and accepts delightedly. Aria leans over the podium and makes a brief but heartfelt speech, thanking her team and fans.
Still, her mind floats back to Griffin.
Is this just the result of Ken posing good questions? Or is this something real?
Aria gets home that night, and she goes right to bed.
In her dreams, he’s there again. Griffin.