2
2
Two hours before the pink carpet
The final rays of sunlight sting my eyes as I pose against the wall of the balcony for Maya. Behind us, the shimmering ocean rolls over the California sand, and I close my eyes and tilt my chin up to breathe in the air that reminds me of home.
“Perfect! Hold that pose!” Maya instructs.
Valerie’s pouring drinks for us inside, and I hear the clink of ice hitting glass right as the phone camera snaps another shot. There’s still a half hour left until the car—sorry, Sprinter—arrives to sweep us off to Hollywood for tonight’s event. I asked for some alone time with my girls before the big night out. There’s something about hearing our laughter as the waves crash against the shore that makes it easy to remember there’s a wide-open world of possibility out there, and we’re lucky to have found ourselves living in this reality. And, sure, pregaming in an oceanfront Malibu beach house was half the reason I rented this place for my release weekend anyway.
“Hot!” Maya hypes me up with a little dance as she steps forward, the sun hitting her long auburn hair and making her green eyes really pop. “Seriously, this Chanel dress was made for golden hour.”
“This dress was made for me,” I say proudly, catching my reflection in the sliding glass doors as I walk over to see the photo. Each tiny pink crystal glints as I move, highlighting my petite curves and sun-kissed tan.
“See? Ah-mazing.” Maya taps to zoom in on the image. She just walked at Paris Fashion Week, and her modeling career is absolutely taking off. Her unique features make her fascinating to look at, and her charisma is next-level. She’s a natural in front of the camera and she always gets the best angles. “Shit, they should hire me to work behind the camera too.”
“Maybe we should hire you to be our personal Instagram photographer,” I tease.
“As if! This is Maya Brown—honey, people should be taking pictures of her.” Valerie laughs as she steps onto the balcony and hands each of us a drink.
“Of course you would have your own custom ice cubes!” Maya dips a red-painted stiletto nail into the glass to tilt the huge block of ice with a Princess logo etched into it.
“Duh. Is there any other way to drink Don Julio Real than on the rocks—correction, a custom-made rock?”
“We are Hollywood royalty after all,” Valerie adds as she snaps a picture of her drink. “Anyway, can we take some more photos? We’ve got a stunning Malibu beach house here and I need something cute to put on my Instagram!”
A few minutes later, when we walk back into the house, our stylists are just leaving. When my makeup artist, Angel, catches sight of us, his eyes pop with a huge smile.
“Wow! You guys look so gorgeous!”
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” I remind him, and he swats the compliment away with a high-pitched laugh.
“Are you bringing dates tonight?”
“No way—”
“Hell, no—”
“No, thank you.”
Valerie, Maya, and I scrunch up our noses at each other as we answer in sync. Then, at Angel’s stunned expression, we burst out laughing.
“We’re so over guys,” Val explains.
With a nod, Maya adds, “They’re always trippin’. We have no time for them.”
Angel’s eyes land on me. “Who needs a date when you’re all so damn cool on your own?”
“Right?” I take a sip of my drink as I pass the huge island in the center of the kitchen.
“She’s the fuckin’ Princess,” Val says with a pout.
“Guys need to step up their game and figure out how to treat us first. It’s like, we’re not here to teach you—you should already know.” I shrug. “It’s pretty simple.”
“Exactly.” Angel smiles. “Okay, I’m gonna leave you girls to it. Have the best night, and congrats again, Princess!”
“Thanks, Angel. Love you.”
In the lounge, Maya’s hooked her phone up to the speakers and put her playlist on loud. She’s dancing with Val for her Instagram story and tugs me by the arm to join in. Val is the ultimate it-girl—her classy but modern vibe screams old money, and she’s become such a trendsetter online. Me, Val, and Maya are the ultimate trio.
“Oh my god, did you see Blake’s post earlier?” Val asks as she scrolls back through her feed. “He was training—here, look!” Finding the photo, she flips her phone around for us to see. The guy onscreen is built, posing topless in his gym shorts in front of a locker-room mirror.
“He’s so hot,” Maya and I say together, and Maya practically drools as she zooms in on the image.
“Is he single?” she asks.
I push her shoulder playfully. “Throwback to, like, five seconds ago. We have no time for guys, remember . . . ?”
“Hey, how’s it going in here?” a deep male voice interrupts.
We turn to find my other manager, Wayne, looking fresh in a dark suit, pocketing his cell phone as he walks into the kitchen. He’s the other half of my management team, and even though he’s gorgeous and has the perfect temperament, as well as a successful roster of the hottest stars for at least a decade, he’s strictly off-limits as an option to any of us. But that doesn’t stop the girls from whistling as they step up to greet him.
“It’s not like you to be looking all polished and smart, Wayne.” Maya rubs a hand over his shaved head.
“You’re kidding, right?” It’s rare to see him looking anything but.
“He even went for the good cologne too,” Val teases. “You and Kimi got a hot ‘business meeting’ after the party or something?”
Wayne shakes his head with a tight jaw. He hates it when we tease him about Kimi. The two of them are so over the top with their professionalism it’s like nothing can ruffle their feathers.
Ignoring the question, he asks with a sigh, “Are we ready?”
“Nope.” Valerie hands him one of the glasses waiting on the island. “Here’s your drink.”
“Thanks.” He takes a swig then twists an arm to glance at his Apple Watch.
“You’re behind, Wayne,” I say. “It’s about to be a crazy night.”
“I’m ready,” he corrects me. “What do you have left to do?”
“Well, I need to use the bathroom,” Maya answers for me, dabbing at her red lips, which have faded a little from sipping her drink.
“I’ll come with.”
“I’m uploading that story to Instagram!” Val calls as we walk off.
“Don’t forget to tag Chanel!” I call back, pointing at my dress.
The bathroom’s as luxe as the rest of the house. I lean in front of the enormous mirror to check my makeup. My hair looks perfect, crimped blonde extensions piled high on my head and a crystal tiara perched delicately on top. Sparkling lips, dewy with gloss, pop as I pout at my reflection, and with a flutter of my long lashes I know I’m ready for my big moment.
“Is Jessie coming tonight?” Maya asks.
“Yeah. She finished her finals yesterday so she’s flying down from San Francisco. She’ll be here in time for the after-party. I have a driver picking her up from LAX.”
“Love that girl,” Maya says, popping her lips as well. “Can’t wait to hang out with her later.”
I love her too. I’ve been best friends with Jessie since we were four years old. We met in kindergarten, and though our lives took totally different paths after I left Guam—she’s studying to be a biologist and likes to stay out of the spotlight—we both ended up here in California. After eighteen years, I still talk to her every day. She’s the one person who gets where I’m from and how hard this whole world can be. She’s the one person I can truly trust in this chaotic life I have now.
“Who needs fair-weather friends when I’ve got you three, solid as a fucking rock, right?” I say as Maya hitches her black bodycon dress up to adjust her panties.
“Exactly. Ride or die, babe.”
I notice the unmistakable flash of red silk and hide a smile. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from nights out with Maya Brown, it’s that she only wears those panties—the superhot Agent Provocateur ones, silky red with delicate lace detailing—when she’s planning to get fucked so good the story alone will leave us all red in the face.
No time for guys, my ass. . .
I’m about to make a joke and ask who the lucky man is when Maya finishes adjusting her dress and turns to look at me, her eyes suddenly serious. “Princess, I know this is a really big, important night for you and you’re playing it cool, but how are you really feeling . . . about John?” she asks.
My throat dries up. “I’m doing okay.” I look down as I run a finger across the edge of the marble countertop. “I love when you guys are here and we can all be together. I’m trying, you know, to be okay?”
Maya nods, still watching me closely.
“And at least he and I don’t hate each other,” I continue. “It’s more like this voice inside my head saying, Damn, did I make a mistake and fuck this up so bad . . . is this going to be the biggest regret of your life? It’s just that kind of thing on a loop at the moment. I wish it would go away, but it’s a little harder to forget about it when I’m alone.”
Maya reaches out to stroke my arm. “I get it, but you didn’t fuck it up. He did,” she says. “That’s why my motto is always fuck it and move on.”
I chuckle with her. “Yep, we’ve always been the same.”
And we have. Usually my bounce-back game is pretty solid. This is the first time in my life I’ve ever felt this way about a guy. Maybe I never knew real love before him—but now I’m learning heartache too. It’s a constant back-of-the-mind sadness I can’t shake, a creeping sense of loneliness reminding me that this time it’s for real and we won’t be getting back together. I would be lying if I said I didn’t think about him multiple times a day. Even the smallest of things remind me of him. Maybe he’s the one who got away, and I’ll smile and pretend like that doesn’t even matter anymore. It’s for the best . . . isn’t it?
But I don’t want to let anyone else know the dark thoughts clouding my head. At least not tonight. People only see what they want to see, and right now, from the outside looking in, my success should be the only thing that matters.
If only it was that simple.
“I don’t know what’s going on with me.”
Maya reaches out for a hug. Before she can speak, a loud knock steals our attention.
“Princess?” Wayne’s voice sounds through the door. “Security called. The cars are here.”
“Hey,” Maya whispers, flashing me a smile as she pulls back. “You got this, okay? Fuck him. This is your night, and you deserve to enjoy every goddamn second.”
She says it with so much power I believe it in my heart.
Outside, we find Kimi giving instructions to the driver. Behind it, two more black cars hold our security team and another car waits for Wayne at the end of the sweeping driveway.
“All right,” he says before the three of us get in the back. “Kimi’s taking you to the release party so I’ll go on ahead and do a walk-through of the club, check everything’s good for later tonight.”
“Thanks, Wayne.”
He smiles back at me, dark eyes shining with pride. “You look great, Princess.”
“So do you, Wayne!” Val calls from inside the car.
“It’s never-ending.” Wayne sighs wearily. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Sure.” I grin. “Can’t wait.”
Inside the Sprinter, I ease carefully into the seat so as not to ruin my outfit.
“All good?” Maya checks one final time.
Staring around at the pink star lights on the ceiling and tequila and champagne bottles lined up in ice buckets up front, I’m stupidly happy. This is fucking sick. I’m an island girl about to head out to my release party in Hollywood, living the dream in the spotlight, making a career doing what I love the most, and I’ve got my best girls by my side. And he’s already in the rearview mirror.
I’m doing okay. I’m trying hard. I’m not letting anything hold me back.
“Better than good,” I say, squeezing Maya’s hand. “I’m great. It’s go time!”
Two hours later, when we pull up in front of Delilah, the club booked for the after-party, it looks like things are already crazy busy. Crowds of fans wait on Santa Monica Boulevard to greet us, and as our car pulls up out front, I notice the long line of people waiting to get inside too. We booked the whole venue, exclusive access only, so unless any of their names are on the VIP guest list or they have promoter connections, they won’t be getting past security tonight.
“Look—Princess!”
The people outside the club form a sea of pink, wearing T-shirts and hoodies with the tiara logo and the word Princess printed across the front—my first batch of merch for the release.
“Oh my god! That’s so cute!” I clutch my heart, wishing I could go out there and take photos with each and every one of them. But as security ushers the group of fans back and Wayne appears at the window, I already know that won’t be an option.
“Hey, girls,” he says as he slides open the door. Immediately, the fans’ screams pierce the air, making it difficult to hear his next words. “How was the release party?”
“Fucking incredible,” Valerie answers, her voice barely audible, and when Wayne looks to Kimi for confirmation, she nods.
“It went really well. The press couldn’t get enough of her. Speaking of . . .”
Cameras flash through every window as more paparazzi crowd the car.
“Sounds great.” Wayne grins at me. “Now, let’s get to the real party, right?”
“Tequila, baby!” Maya hoots as she steps out, and the fans erupt even louder.
“Photos first!” Kimi calls as we get out of the car.
Like always, we stand together and hold our heads high for a few shots, the three of us linking arms as we pose for the nonstop flash of camera lights.
All the screaming faces are a thrill to see, and I lift my hand in a wave as I pass them by, but with security packed so tight up against us and Wayne and Kimi moving at such a fast pace, there’s no time to even pause for a selfie.
Inside the club, the atmosphere’s electric, bodies grinding on the dance floor and groups gathered at the bar. “Princess” plays loudly through the speakers when the DJ announces my arrival, and eyes follow us from every corner as security escorts us through the venue.
“Shit, look at this décor!” Val points up at the ceiling of the main room where hundreds of enormous pink balloons filled with gold glitter float through the smoke-filled air on thick ribbons. Each one catches the light from the dance floor and glows as if it’s luminescent.
“And the screens!” Maya adds in excitement. The massive LEDs are playing rolling clips from the visualizer we put out for the song. Too fucking cool.
“This party is fucking insane!” I can’t stop grinning.
Kimi smiles. “You know we got you.”
We make our way to our table, and I cheer when I see the bottle servers lined up holding champagne bottles and Real with sparklers that fizzle and flare like bright streams of starry light.
The area’s been roped off just for us, and even though everyone got in here by invitation only, there’s still a crowd of people dancing around the ropes and pushing forward in the hope of catching my eye and starting a conversation. But with security guarding the table from any unwanted guests, only one person steals my attention for real. As Jessie stands up from her seat, eyes wide with amazement and looking a little out of her depth already, Maya and I let out squeals and rush forward, pulling her into a hug.
“You made it!”
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she shouts over the thump of music as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Seriously, Princess, this is the coolest night of my life, and it’s not even my night!” She leans over to hug Maya too. “It’s crazy, right?”
“I love this!” Maya grabs at Jessie’s pastel-blue halter dress in approval.
“Thanks!”
It’s clear from her rosy cheeks that Jessie’s flattered. I guess it’s not every day a biology student who spends all week in a lab coat gets complimented on her wardrobe by an international supermodel. This lifestyle’s wild, and even though by ridiculous Hollywood standards Jessie shouldn’t fit in, she somehow just does. She’s the type of person who can adapt to any situation; she mixes in so fast I always tell her it’s her superpower. Not only is she such a girl’s girl, but she also has a heart of pure gold and is effortlessly gorgeous and doesn’t realize it.
“Jessie!” From behind us, Valerie drops her arms over our shoulders. “Glad you could make it, girl! And, hey, congrats on finishing your finals! I’d buy you a drink, but . . .” She points to the center of the table where there are endless bottles of every kind of liquor we could need, plus champagne.
“Wow! So many people are here tonight!” Maya says as we take our seats. “Princess, I’ve got a really good feeling about this song.”
“Me too! I can’t stop listening to it,” Jessie adds. “Everyone from home is talking about it too.”
I’m giddy as I take in the packed room. It’s so nice that all these friends showed up for the event. Friends. Should I really call them that? To be honest, a lot of these people are more like acquaintances. I recognize faces everywhere I look, but I can’t help but wonder how many of them really came tonight to celebrate me.
Hollywood’s like a high school cafeteria, with a designated table for each little clique. Except instead of being separated into groups of jocks and preps and freshmen and nerds, there are only two tables around here: the popular group and the people outside of that group. And there’s always a ringleader who decides who’s in and who’s out.
“Do you want a drink, babe?” Maya asks, pointing to the server as he reaches for the tequila.
“Sure, thanks.” I’m mesmerized by the dancing crowd.
Tonight, we’re sitting on the throne of popularity, and everyone in LA knows the popular group runs the show.
And I’ll always stick with my girls. We’re tight. We keep each other close because we know we can trust each other completely. From what I’ve seen, despite all the perfectly timed paparazzi shots of coffee dates and shopping trips, a lot of celebrity “BFFs” are just as fake as most of the boobs in this room tonight. But with Jessie, Val, and Maya, I never have to worry about drama or gossip. Kimi may try to warn me otherwise, but I love my girls and trust them with my life.
As the girls chat loudly and laugh around me and the club lights flash pink, purple, blue, red, my phone vibrates with another message. Hundreds of notifications crowd the screen already, but this one steals my attention. Call it intuition, but I grab my phone instantly.
Win: Hey
Before I can type a reply, another message pops up.
Win: You look good tonight