5
5
One Month Ago
As I make my way offstage to a roar of applause, I catch John’s eye and smile wide. He’s holding a cocktail, walking toward me through the dark of the venue Win booked for tonight’s fundraiser, and he looks hot as hell. His all-black outfit matches the sleek décor. His eyes smolder with a heat that’s all for me. My belly flips just looking at him.
“You did amazing, babe,” he says directly into my ear, leaning in close as he hands the cocktail over. “Fucking incredible.”
I throw my free arm around him and land a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, babe. Win really never cuts corners. That setup was better than I had on tour.”
“No way,” Maya scoffs as she walks over from her spot backstage. “You killed it up there, Princess, but nothing’s ever gonna top those shows last year.”
I disagree with her but it’s not worth saying it again.
“You looked so fucking intoxicating. You mesmerized everyone in the room, P. I’m so proud of you.” John kisses my cheek and glances around at the crowd of people in the club, all psyched up from my set—multimillionaires and the Hollywood A-list, mostly. I can feel how happy he is for me; he’s always been my biggest hype man. “And Win doesn’t skimp. No surprise his events are gonna be next-level.”
I take a sip of the cocktail, a special secret recipe the bartender came up with for the fundraiser, decorated with edible gold flakes and black cherries to match the theme. The ice-cold concoction feels like heaven as it coats my throat, much needed after singing for a half hour.
“Did you get a video for the girls?” I ask excitedly.
John holds up his phone. “Yup, of course.”
“But you didn’t get me a drink?” Maya pouts jokingly.
“My bad.” He shrugs playfully.
“Take mine.” I offer the cocktail to Maya, and grab John’s phone so I can AirDrop the video to my own. Val flew out to NYC for some mysterious business thing with her dad and Jessie rarely makes it to these events unless she can take time off school, so I promised I’d send them a video after the show. Even when they’re not here physically, they still find a way to hype me up.
I’m about to hit Send when an amp buzzes with static on the stage behind me and Win’s deep voice rumbles out of the speakers. “What a phenomenal performance! Can we get another round of applause for the one and only Princess?” Win beams out at the crowd as they follow his lead, and an eruption of shouts and whistles fills the air.
“See, babe? They loved you.” John drapes his arm around me and pulls me in for a kiss. His lips are warm against my already flushed neck. The way my body reacts to him never changes, no matter where we are or who’s around.
“Holy shit, these cocktails are to die for.” Maya groans orgasmically, eyes rolling, totally unfazed by all the attention. She doesn’t give a shit what people think, and I love her for it.
Laughing in response, I tune back into Win’s speech. He sure knows how to command a crowd.
“Well, you’re an incredibly lucky crowd here,” Win continues onstage, “because the show isn’t over yet—we have another VIP guest for you tonight.”
“Wait, what?” I whisper to John, pulling a face in confusion. No one told me there’d be other performances tonight. Not that I really care about that, but—
“John!” a sickly sweet voice interrupts from behind. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you were here!”
Okay, now I care.
I turn to find my tall, shiny black-haired arch-fucking-nemesis dressed in a black catsuit, hooked up to her mic, ready for the show. My stomach drops. Riley Vega. Of all the musical artists in Hollywood, it had to be her. And she looks like a superstar. Insecurities immediately flood over me. I hate the power she has over me. I went from feeling on top of the world to feeling so small. I straighten my spine and try to seem unfazed, but she towers over me, in more ways than one. Even my hands are uncontrollable as I mess with my hair.
“What’s up, Riley?” John greets her as Riley throws her arms around him in a hug, patting her back kind of awkwardly, avoiding looking at me. A hug that’s a little too familiar, a little too intimate. I hate it.
What the fuck?
“Hey, Riley, honey,” Maya says loudly, matching Riley’s squeaky-clean tone with an equally fake smile. “Who’s the handsome new man?”
Riley’s attention turns to the guy beside her. I vaguely recognize him from a billboard somewhere—or a perfume commercial maybe, some ad that got plastered all over the city last month. Anyway, Riley looks uncomfortable as Maya rests a hand on the blond guy’s arm and flashes him a sultry smile, which he returns without hesitation. Maya is to men like honey is to bees, sex appeal in spades, and I love when it works in my favor to put people like Riley Vega in their place.
“We’re just friends,” she answers, her eyes flitting to John’s for a second. “This is Cal.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Maya drawls.
Riley turns to John. “I’m so glad you’re here. I have so many ideas to run past you about that song we talked about.”
“You’re working on music together?” I ask politely, feeling my blood start to boil. “And hi, Riley, it’s great to see you.”
She presses her lips together in a thin smile, as if I’m an annoyance.
“Yeah, we’ll figure it out in the studio or something, Rye. I’ll call you, okay?” John says easily. It’s obvious that he’s trying to get her away from us before I explode.
“You guys are working together?” I ask again.
“It’s cool, Princess,” John reassures me, but something about the way he’s acting doesn’t sit right. He knows this would bother me, and he’s brushing it off. I suddenly feel like the third wheel in my own relationship.
“It’s totally cool,” Riley adds with a shit-eating grin. A grin that takes me right back to our messy, painful history. “I’ll text you, John. I gotta get onstage—this is my cue.”
With a flick of her hair she steps away from Cal, who’s having some sort of moment with Maya, eyeing her up as if he can’t wait to run off with her. He’s probably already forgotten he’s with Riley. Petty or not, after what Riley has taken from me, I welcome the fact that Maya is taking her arm candy for the night.
“Break a leg,” I offer, trying my best to be genuine no matter how she treats me, but Riley just gives a little laugh as she hops onstage.
“Thanks, but I don’t need it. Win always saves the best for last, you know.”
Maya’s the first to voice my thoughts once Riley’s out of earshot. “What a bitch.”
“Don’t.” I take the cocktail back from Maya and swallow the last of it. I turn my attention to John. “I can’t believe you talked to her about working on a song.”
“What’s the issue?” John asks.
Maya interjects. “Uh, hello? Do you even remember what she did to Princess? The dress? Every time Princess gives her the benefit of the doubt, Riley screws her over.” Maya widens her eyes as if she can’t believe John doesn’t get it.
“It’s shady as fuck,” I say matter-of-factly when John looks to me for an explanation. “And if it wasn’t, you would have told me you’re working with her.”
For Cal’s benefit, Maya elaborates. “Riley purposefully fucked up a big opportunity for Princess.”
Humiliation crawls up my throat as I think about what happened, and I swallow it with difficulty.
“I don’t even get it. We used to be good friends. I swear the Riley I met and knew is not the same girl we are seeing now,” I begin, but John rolls his eyes and slides a hand around the nape of my neck to pull me close for a kiss before I can say any more. The smell of liquor on his breath overpowers the cologne I love so much.
“I’m gonna get some fresh air on the balcony,” he tells me. “Don’t overthink it, babe. You’re above that.”
I’m stunned. Has he really forgotten? Or is he too drunk now to recall? My temper flares. It feels like he’s taking her side, again. “Are you kidding?”
“John, she’s not overthinking anything. This shit isn’t okay, and Riley’s got some serious issues she needs to work on. You should stay away from her and defend your girl. You know what Riley did.” Maya is clearly annoyed with John, but for my sake she lets him off easier than she usually would.
Cal says softly, “I won’t tell anyone. I want to know what she’s like, for my own sake—before I get too wrapped up with her.” His eyes are sympathetic, and my anger at John’s casual reaction gives me the freedom to talk about the long list of ways Riley has betrayed me.
I really don’t want to talk about it too much, and it’s not like anyone will believe me over her. When it all went down, I took the higher road and never spoke out publicly. People always asked but never got the answer as to why our friendship faded, but I guess I’ll shed some light for him. “She did something unforgiveable that I’m not going to get into right now. But aside from the major issue, she’s also done so many other, smaller things, so immature—like invite me out and then purposely not include me, have her stylist put me on her inspo board to rip my look but then gaslight me as if it was the other way around. Purposely post photos where I look awful, and she looks amazing. Petty and dumb stuff, I know, but real friends don’t do that shit.
“There was one time I was holding her phone and all these notifications came in on the lock screen clearly talking shit about me with the guy she was dating at the time. I could tell from the message previews she wasn’t defending me in the conversation, she was leading it. I never told her I saw the texts. It was so hurtful because I thought we had a real friendship and shit like this would happen.
“Yet every time her life was melting down, I’m the one she called to help pick up the pieces. And somehow she always made it seem like it’s nothing, or not a big enough deal to be upset about. Even though her life seems so perfect, I always felt bad for her because of how lonely she is deep down, so I kept letting her hurt me over and over. And not because she’s Riley Vega but because she was someone I cared about, and my heart is bigger than my head.”
“That’s so messed up,” Cal says. “I’ve heard rumors of her basically exiling anyone who crosses her or who she decides is a threat or doesn’t fit the vibe of her group.”
John’s eyes are steady on me, serious and unwavering. “You didn’t tell me all of that.”
“I told you the parts that mattered.”
He glances at the stage where Riley is performing, conflict clear in his ocean-blue eyes. He takes another drink, and the change in his mood is subtle, but I know him so well I can feel it.
“The best thing to do is move on and not give her the power to fuck with you anymore. You’re the fucking Princess. The past is the past. Let’s go outside?”
“Okay,” I agree quietly, looping my arm through his, ignoring the massive red flags screaming in my head.
I’m aware of them, but I don’t want to fight tonight. He does care about me, I know that. But if someone hurts me, it should matter to him. If someone hurt him, I would always have his back. I know he doesn’t handle conflict well—especially when alcohol is involved—and the way he was raised here in Hollywood, in the industry, wasn’t exactly the model for healthy communication. He’s trying, but he’s just not there yet.
I can tell by the look on Maya’s face that she wishes I would stand up to him, but thankfully she doesn’t call me out.
“Maya, you wanna join?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
She glances at Cal. “Oh, I think we were gonna go grab a drink,” she says. “But you have fun—and text me if you need me.”
John and I grab more drinks and head to the outdoor balcony, where the view of Los Angeles stretches out for miles around us. Lights twinkle from every angle. The city can be so magical. Especially at a distance.
Most of the crowd is inside watching Riley’s performance, so we have the balcony almost to ourselves.
“It’s quiet out here.” We stand together by the railing overlooking the city, though I can faintly hear her catchy song thumping through the air.
“With artists like you two onstage, I’m not surprised that everyone is inside.”
I try to ignore the skin-crawling sensation that comes from hearing him lump me together with Riley.
“You’re not watching the show,” I say.
John takes a sip of his drink and sets it on top of a post. “I watched the only set that matters.”
“Doesn’t seem like you think that since you took her side in front of my friends just now.”
“I didn’t mean to take her side, P. I wasn’t trying to brush off the shit with Riley, I’m just tired of you giving her what she wants, which is your energy. You’re too good for that.”
“She’s already made me feel crazy enough, John. You know how isolated she made me feel, and I need you to have my back.”
“I do have your back.” He pulls me closer to him. “I will always have your back. I’ve known since the moment we met that you were different. Special. You’re a good person and you can hold your own in this industry, very few people can say that. I’m not surprised Riley feels threatened. You’re on a whole other level and I’ve always known that—now the world is catching up with me.”
I glance down at his black suit. He really does look so goddamn hot. It makes me want to forget everything bad about tonight and not bring up what Riley said, but I can’t ignore it like I usually would. That’s one of the problems when it comes to him; I tend to ignore the rational part of my brain when he’s close.
“John, what did Riley mean back there? You haven’t mentioned anything about working with her.”
John’s jaw flexes as he leans against the railing. He doesn’t want this conversation either. “I’m working with her, but it’s not a big deal. I should have mentioned it, but you know how it is. My team set it up and was really pressing me about it. It’s just business,” he says, twisting to face me when I don’t answer right away.
“You could have at least warned me so I wasn’t blindsided like that.”
“I knew you wouldn’t like it.”
I grip the railing, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah, but we’re together. You should be able to tell me things even if you know I won’t like them. And if you know I wouldn’t be comfortable with it, you probably shouldn’t do it and hide it. We have to be able to communicate.”
“See how you’re acting?” he says. “This is why I didn’t tell you.”
“Oh my god.” He really doesn’t get it, or just doesn’t care to.
He shrugs. “What?”
“Are you being for real right now? ‘See how you’re acting’? As if I don’t have a reason to be upset? I never have and never would work with your rivals even if they hit me up and my team was pushing for it.”
“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say, Princess. We’re working on one song together. No big deal. It’s work, I produce for tons of artists, and you never have a problem. This has nothing to do with you, and this shouldn’t be an issue.”
“John! I’m your girlfriend.”
He looks away.
“You don’t get to decide if it has nothing to do with me. I just found out you’ve been hanging out with her in the studio even though you know she has it out for me. It doesn’t add up. She probably wants to take our sound and claim it as hers,” I say. “I wouldn’t put it past her. And you lying about this, like, what else is there I don’t know about?”
“You’re saying I can’t work or hang with other artists now if they’re women?”
My voice wobbles with frustration as I say, “No, John, that’s not what I’m saying at all. But outside of work, why would you? Would you be okay with me hanging out with other guys?”
“Yeah, and you do.” He downs his drink in one gulp. “You think I don’t see the way Win and every guy in here looks at you? And your Instagram is full of guys commenting how sexy you are, and I never say shit. I’m producing one song with an artist who’s on top of the charts right now and you expect me to turn it down because she was a shitty friend to you?”
He can’t mean what he’s saying and both of our tempers are getting the best of us, but I can’t stop myself from reacting.
“Yes, John! I do. Anyone would. You should care how she treats me and how I feel about it. If the tables were turned, I’d be on your side, hands down.” I’m so close to tears it’s embarrassing, but I literally can’t believe what I’m hearing. The thought of him spending time with Riley makes me sick. It makes me want to scream. I still don’t even know what I did to make her act like this, and it feels unfair. I don’t want to have a rivalry with her, or with any woman.
I stare at him, waiting for some kind of response. Waiting for him to explain why the hell he’s defending her so strongly. I must be missing something because my kind, sweet, wonderful John wouldn’t choose Riley over me.
“You’re overreacting,” he says after a while, staring back out over the city and not even bothering to look at me. “Relax and understand this is about work and not personal.”
“It absolutely is personal, John!” I try to laugh but tears spill over instead. Stupid fucking tears, and people are starting to wander outside now. Oh my god. “This is about you not getting it.”
As I say the words, I instantly realize how true they are. He doesn’t get it. All our fights stem from the same root issue, that he listens but doesn’t fully take my side when it comes to anything to do with his career. It’s like he has blinders on. How can someone know me so well but be so dismissive of the way I feel sometimes? My relationship with him always feels so high or so low. There’s never an in-between, and it’s exhausting.
Without needing to think, more harsh truths spill out. “I’m just so tired, John.”
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t move.
“Can you just make the right decision and tell me you’ll stop working with her? It doesn’t have to be a big deal—just say something else came up. I really, really don’t feel comfortable with you spending time with her. Can’t you respect that?”
“It’s not that easy, P. My management, everyone will lose it if I pull out because you told me to—”
“For me, John,” I cut in, my voice rising in pitch. “I’m asking you to do this for me, for my feelings. Because I’m your girl and it’s making me unhappy. It’s not just a song to me.”
Pushing himself upright, John finishes the last of his drink in one gulp and moves to walk away. “You know what, I think I’m going to head home.”
“Wait—you’re going without me?” I reach for his arm but he shrugs me off. “It’s literally impossible to get through to you when you’re like this. I’m just telling you how I feel and you’re not even listening. All you care about is some song—”
“You’re making a scene, Princess,” he accuses me, moving closer. His voice is a low murmur as he tells me coldly, “I’m saying this for your sake, you don’t want anyone to see you arguing with me in public. It’s a bad look, and you’ll be over it in the morning.”
Tears momentarily blind my eyes. Deep down, I need him to validate my feelings, to offer to do the right thing for our relationship and not leave me hanging like some emotional wreck. It’s manipulative and I hate it. He’s not like this deep down—I know him. But as hard as I will the ice in his eyes to melt, he stays cool and unfazed, and I grow hotter with anger.
And also, what kind of disrespectful bullshit was that? I’ll be over it in the morning? Who does he think he is? I hate how messy he makes me feel.
“Why are you being so cold? This isn’t you.” I try to meet his eyes again, to find a glimpse of the soft, thoughtful man I love.
“It is me.” He sighs. “You’re the one changing, Princess. You know how much I value my job, and working with Riley is a huge opportunity for me professionally. She’s the hottest artist out there right now—” He stops midsentence, realizing what he just said.
My stomach drops and my heart feels like it’s breaking into pieces as I try to compose myself.
“What?” I try to catch my breath.
“I didn’t mean it like that, but . . .”
“I’m done, John,” I snap, and there’s a second of silence when the whole world seems to black out. “I’m so fucking done.” It’s hard to think straight beyond my feelings and ego being crushed by him on such an important night for me.
“You’re overreacting—”
“No, I’m not. You lied to me by not telling me you’re working with Riley. You’re choosing one song and her over me, and I can’t handle it. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with this. I’m done.”
“Princess, don’t do this. Not like this. Emotions are high, we both said shit we didn’t mean. Sleep on it.” He shakes his head, glancing around at the other people spilling onto the balcony. He seems to care more about people hearing us than comforting me, which pushes me further over the edge.
“I’m serious. Don’t call me, don’t text me. We’re done, John. Have fun with your new hottest artist’s project.”
Before he can say any more, I stride away as fast as I can, my high heels pinching my toes as I make my way back into the party and try to find Maya. The lighting’s dark enough that no one can see my tears, which is my only saving grace. The more I try to brush them away, the heavier they fall.
I’m twenty minutes into searching for Maya or Cal in every dark corner when a hand lands on my shoulder from behind. A big hand, warm and reassuring, with a grip firm enough that I halt immediately and turn around, half expecting John.
“Win!” I try to pull myself together and hope he can’t tell through the chaos that I’m crying. “Hey, have you seen Maya?”
“Not since earlier,” Win says, separating from the glamorous girl he was dancing with to move off to one side of the floor with me. “Hey, everything okay?” He leans back to study my face. His hands reach up, wiping under my eyes and across my cheeks. The gesture makes me want to cry even harder. “Princess, what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, Win, really,” I explain, but he places his free hand on my other shoulder and grounds me with his concern. Instantly, all the adrenaline in my blood seems to settle, and I want to melt into him, to tell him everything.
“Where’s John?” He looks around.
Staring at the floor, I shake my head, and he seems to get it without explanation.
“And you lost Maya too?”
“I guess she went home with that Cal guy.” Unlike me, who’s a crying mess and clearly going home alone, like the sad, tragic—Oh, wait, shit. John was my ride home.
“Do you need me to do anything?” Win asks. “I can kick him out if he’s being a problem.”
“Thank you but it’s just—” I say quickly, shaking my head. “No, Win, I just . . . I just want to go home.”
Win slides an arm around my shoulder and guides me out of the main room into a private hallway, abandoning the girl he was with as if he’s forgotten about her already. Without another word he slides his phone out of his pocket and makes a call. His touch and presence feel so comforting and safe that my body releases what feels like a lifetime of tension.
“Tell my security to pull the car up front—I need him to drive Princess home and escort her to the door to make sure she’s safe. Great, thanks.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to me, wiping my fresh tears away with the thick pad of his thumb. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Embarrassment flushes my cheeks. “No, honestly.”
He watches me contemplatively for a few long seconds. “I had no clue about Riley,” he murmurs.
I look up into his brown eyes. “Riley?” How does he know? I try to play it cool, like I don’t know what he’s talking about.
Win smiles, sympathy in his kind eyes. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I was walking by and overheard your conversation with Maya and the group. I had no idea that she did all that to you. She won’t be performing at any of my events again, Princess. Trust me.” When I open my mouth to protest, he places a hand in the small of my back to steer me down the hallway. “Come on, superstar. Let’s get you home.”
My mind reels with a thousand possibilities while Win leads me out of the party through the back exit. We step into the hot LA night air. As he helps me into his Maybach, I wonder if he thinks less of me knowing that Riley has the power to ruin my nights, big and small. Does he know something that I don’t? Did Riley try to talk shit about me to Win too? I don’t even know. The only thing on my mind above all the bullshit with John is one glaring fact that actually hurts to think about: If Win can dismiss Riley so easily, why the hell does my own boyfriend struggle so much?