11
11
Later that night I’m lounging by the pool at one of Maya’s friends’ parties.
From the chair next to me, Maya sighs. “So, about Val . . .”
I take a sip of my drink and look at her. “I’m worried about her, Maya.”
“Me too.” Maya sits forward, adjusting gently so her stiletto heels don’t get caught on the seat. She glances around at a cluster of people drinking and laughing nearby, and lowers her voice. “Do you think it has to do with her dad?”
“Doesn’t it always have to do with her dad?”
“Well, yeah, but I mean, like, do you think it’s more than just the pressure of having to take over the hotel business?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, sitting forward on my sun lounger too. I place my drink on the little table between us and wrap my cream Chanel scarf around me.
“Like, if it was just the stress of the business, she’d tell us about it, right? It’s not like we don’t know she doesn’t want to take over the company. But the way she’s acting lately, it’s like there’s something more going on. Something she’s either ashamed of or scared to tell us about.”
I consider Maya’s words as I scan the various reality stars and influencers and their friends playing a drunken game of greased watermelon in the blue pool while their friends film them for content. I don’t know how Maya knows these people, but I guess she found out about the party through a friend of a friend and decided it was better to be out here with cocktails and potential hookups than in bed with takeout and FaceTime. Definitely not my scene, but Maya can’t resist a party.
“I wish she’d just talk to us.” I sigh.
“Honestly. Since New Year’s Eve, she just hasn’t been the same. I can’t help but think something’s going on with her and honestly, I’m worried. Whenever I ask her about it she brushes it off as nothing. It’s not nothing, Princess! Tell me I’m not making this shit up in my head.”
“You’re not. Something’s up. I want the old Val back.”
“Maya?”
We’re interrupted by a new voice. Maya’s eyes go wide as she looks up, and when I turn around to find familiar blond hair and brown eyes smiling down at us, I realize why.
“Cal!” Maya stands up and immediately wraps him in a hug. “I didn’t know you were here!”
“Yeah, baby. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Maya laughs. “Miss me too much to keep away, did ya?”
I smile politely as Maya flirts with Cal, but internally my stomach sinks. I don’t know anyone else at this party except Maya, and now she’s about to hook up with Cal and leave me stranded with all my worries about Val. I know she’d stick with me if I asked, but I’m not out to cockblock my best friend. Especially not after hearing the steamy stories Maya told us all about her night with Cal last time.
“Maya,” I say, standing up and squeezing her shoulder discreetly, “I’m gonna head home.”
“For real?” Maya frowns. “Stay a little longer.”
I shake my head, my mind made up. “I’ll text you when I’m back, okay?”
“If you’re sure.” She pouts, but her hands are on Cal’s chest and his eyes are on her lips already. This is definitely my cue. Besides, I’m so in my head about what’s happening with Val I don’t think I’d enjoy much more of the party if I stayed.
“Love you, babe. Be safe!” I air-kiss her cheeks and walk off, heading inside to call a driver and change out of my bikini.
I’m halfway to the door when a burst of laughter snaps my attention to the side. A group of girls I vaguely recognize sit around a firepit with a bunch of other people I don’t know. Still, all of their eyes are on me as I continue toward the house, and when I hear words like fake and wannabe floating on the air I stop dead in my tracks.
“Hi.” I try my best to be polite despite how awkward it feels. “Do I know you?” I ask, locking eyes with a girl whose name I can’t remember, but who was definitely with Riley when I hung out with her in the past.
“Barely, but we’ve met,” the girl responds. She’s not exactly in-my-face rude, but not sweet either.
As we stand there, I shift my weight on my heels, uncomfortable and trying my hardest not to show it. I hear the small group start to whisper about me.
“She tried to steal Riley’s songs and now her producer. How pathetic,” one of the guys says.
When I look at them, they all turn their heads.
“And her outfit,” a female voice laughs.
Every bone in my body wants to stomp over and ask them what the hell they’re talking about. I’ve never in my life tried to take a song from anyone—especially Riley—and if the producer they’re claiming I tried to steal is John, well, that’s just insane. He was one of the first producers I ever worked with, long before Riley had even met him. I wish Maya was by my side so she could correct their petty bullshit, but I don’t want to cause a scene, and I sure as hell don’t want to go viral having a childish argument at a party.
With a fake smile, I look the girl up and down and then walk inside, not glancing back even when they carry on with their ridiculous story.
“Assholes,” I growl into the phone as I pull my shirt on. “I’ve never done anything to Riley or any of them. Seriously . . . what the fuck! They know how replaceable they are, that’s why they have to be her little minions. Don’t wanna get kicked out of the group now.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Jessie sighs through the phone. There’s background noise—traffic and loud music—and I wonder how nice it must be to go out with her girls at college. At least that kind of drama would be so much easier to deal with than this Hollywood shit. “They’re doing it because you did nothing to them. These people are wannabes who have no drive, no direction, no careers. They’re either born into this lifestyle or so fame hungry they’d do anything to claw their way into being part of Riley’s group, not knowing they’re actually knocking on hell’s door. When genuine people like you come around they don’t even know how to handle it, they feel so bad about themselves. Their lives are depressing and they’re desperate to fill the void by ganging up on people who are too nice to do anything about it.”
“But why?” I drag the word out, stepping into my baggy gray sweatpants and pulling them over my bikini.
“Because they’re jealous and you’re not like them. You’re better than them and you’re a good person. Imagine still being in that circle. Everyone knows they all secretly hate each other. That would be worse, right?”
“Way worse. You’re right,” I mutter, scraping my damp hair back and blowing out my cheeks. “How’s your night going, anyway?”
“Uh.” Jessie sounds guilty. “Really good, actually. Feels like I’ve been glued to my dorm room studying for the past few days, so it’s nice to just get out and dance, you know?”
“You work so hard, Jess. You deserve a night out.” I glance at myself in the mirror, feeling suddenly dumb for calling her. “And here I am interrupting it with my stupid drama. I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.”
“No, Princess, it’s fine. You know I’m always here for you.”
“And I got your back too,” I tell her. “Which is exactly why I’m gonna hang up now. Enjoy your night, Jessie. Love you so fucking muuuuuch—”
I cut the call before she can argue. She texts me less than ten seconds later.
Jessie: ILYSFMASLHGYD
Jessie: (That means I love you so fucking much and stop letting Hollywood get you down, but you already know that right?)
Jessie: 3 3 3
Laughing, I go to type my reply but am interrupted when another text pops up.
John: There’s an incredible full moon tonight. Have you seen it? Took one look and wanted to share it with you
Before I’ve even had a chance to notice the time—11:11 p.m.—my phone vibrates in my hand with his call.
—
Call me silly, but it feels like a sign when John asks if he can come pick me up. A sign of what, I’m not sure. I accept his offer mostly because the thought of going home alone seems even worse than spending the rest of my night at the party mingling with people who clearly don’t want me there.
“Everything okay?” he says as I sink into the passenger seat.
“Long day,” I answer. Then, when he goes quiet, I throw him a small smile. “I don’t wanna talk about it, but could use this distraction, so thanks.”
“Thank you for taking my call. I really thought you were going to tell me to fuck off after what I pulled at the studio the other day. I’m sorry for that, P. You were great, I was being an idiot.”
Usually, I would just brush it off and not hold John accountable, but I’m really trying to get better at saying what I need and want, so I turn to face him. “I was about to tell you it’s fine and in the past, but it really wasn’t fine, and we were having such a good session. What made you change like that?”
He sighs, rubbing his hand over his chin, a nervous tick I haven’t seen in a while. “To be honest, it drove me fucking crazy the way Cole was all over you.”
“Seriously? That’s why you acted like that? I barely know the guy and he’s your friend. You should have just said something. This is why I always say we have to communicate better, John.”
The idea of him being jealous feeds the immature, obsessive part of my brain, but it bothers me that he would let his emotions get in the way of our work, especially with how much is riding on this song being big.
“I know,” he groans, tapping his hands against his steering wheel. “I guess I just didn’t think seeing you get hit on would bother me so much. And I should have told you about Riley, but didn’t know how.”
“Wow, you’re apologizing. I don’t even know how to react,” I tease him, knowing that I deserve his apology but also proud of him because I know how hard it is for him to be open about how he feels.
“I’m trying.” His smile is shy, warm, and genuine. “I really am. I’ve been wanting to call you every minute since, but tonight I just had to when I saw the moon. I knew you would love it.”
I click in my seat belt. “It was nice that you were thinking of me.”
“I can be thoughtful,” John says with a faint smile, pulling onto the road.
“This whole emotional maturity thing looks good on you, John.”
“You make me better, P. Only you.” He rests his hand over mine, and the contact steals my breath. I find him smiling the same sweet smile I’ve always loved. His voice is softer when he speaks again. “Wanna go for a drive?”
“Where to?” I ask.
John shrugs. “Just a drive. Around the city, maybe through the Hills. Find somewhere we can sit and talk and forget the world for a while. How does that sound?”
I shut my eyes and lean my head back against the headrest. “Honestly, that sounds like heaven.”
And it is. We drive for an hour or more, talking idly like we used to about anything and nothing, playing our favorite songs, and just enjoying each other’s company. The thing about John is I can say so much to him and still feel as if we’ve talked a whole bunch of nothing. It’s the most comfortable, familiar kind of connection, with lots of laughter and dreaming about our futures. It almost makes me forget all the shit between us lately.
Eventually, John pulls to the side of the road in a spot overlooking the city. He cuts the engine and turns to me.
“I really missed this,” he says.
I want to make some sort of witty comment but the words that come out instead sound hopelessly sincere. “I’ve really enjoyed tonight.”
“Me, too, Princess.”
“John—” I stare out at the city, my thoughts reeling back to the party and Val and the awful group of friends. “Do you ever think about getting away from it all?”
He studies me carefully for a few seconds before answering. “You mean Hollywood?”
“Yeah, the industry. All the darkness and being in the spotlight and cliques and politics. Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live a normal life?”
John cracks a window and sparks up a cigarette. I watch as a tendril of smoke curls around his head and fades into the midnight sky.
“I can’t see myself ever not making music, but sometimes when I look at my parents and how happy they are, it makes me wonder if it’s possible to have that here,” he says. “A normal life. Fell in love when they were nineteen and dirt-poor, and never laid eyes on anyone else. They just fit. Like two halves of the same whole. Always downplayed the idea of a grand love story with romantic gestures, but honestly, if you ask me what’s more romantic—having what they had, virtually no money but a connection that sticks for life, or these industry romances propped up on PR plays—well, the answer’s obvious. I’d take what my mom and dad have any day.”
“That’s really sweet and sounds wonderful,” I say. “And I agree. I love roses but they don’t mean a thing if there’s no real commitment. You know I’m such a romantic, I can’t help it. I want it all. I want commitment, to grow and share my life with someone. To look back one day, reminiscing about all these cool experiences we’re having now. The lifelong love and devotion . . . and the roses.” I realize what I just said. Shit.
“Princess—” John shakes his head. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean for it to go down like that. These songs with Riley, it’s business, that’s all. Two songs. Two creative collabs, nothing else. I didn’t wanna build a wall between you and me. The reason I didn’t ask you first is because they’re one-offs. We aren’t making a whole project, I didn’t feel like it was that deep. What you and I are doing together is so much bigger than that.”
“Listen, you can work with whoever you want. You know I’ve always wanted the best for you. I just don’t like feeling like I’m on the outside or that you’re hiding things from me. It’s not as simple as Riley wants to make music with you, there’s always a strategy. She’s always got a plan, and in the end it’s only in her best interest. I worry about the kind of person she is—she’s ruthless and will do anything to maintain her status and stay on top. You’re known for being good, John, and I don’t want her to ruin that. She’s not as light and fun as she pretends to be. Trust me, I know from experience. She can’t be trusted.”
The night air has cooled around us and it’s so quiet here that it’s almost like we’re not in the city at all.
“I’m not going to hang with her outside of the studio alone ever again, and if I could, I’d pull the song, but it’s too late,” he says. “And I trust what you’re saying, especially about that shit she pulled with your dress. I hate that she did that to you.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, hoping he means it.
Not only out of jealousy, but with her backstabbing tendencies, if Riley wants John, which I’m sure she does, and he rejects her, she will stop at nothing to take him down. I’ve seen her ruin the lives of men who rejected her, and she knows what John means to me, which gives her more ammo. She the type of girl who loves the satisfaction of thinking she could steal anyone’s man.
“Thank you for always having my back, P.”
I look at him questioningly. “I always will, you know that. I love you. Whether we’re together or not,” I tell him, meaning it. No matter what happens between us, John was one of the first people to believe in me; he was my best friend long before we started dating and he’s been there through all the ups and down since I moved here. Our bond is deep and unwavering, regardless of our roller coaster of a relationship.
“You will?” he says, running his hands over my hair in a cute and endearing way.
I nod, not able to stop the smile that fills my face.
“Well, I’m just asking in case that means you’d give me a second chance, not right this second, but someday?” he explains, and then chuckles and looks out the window. “A guy can dream.”
“You’d have to earn it,” I say, and he whips his head back to look at me again. “A second chance. But you’re off to a decent start.”
He contemplates my words for a minute and then nods. I brace myself for his reply, but instead, he changes the subject.
“Can I take you home, P.?”
“Well, it is getting late.” I glance at the time on the dash. “And I am already in your car . . .”
“Is that a yes?” he asks, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
I shrug. “If you really want it to be.” I can’t explain the nervous energy in the pit of my stomach, but I know why it’s there. For a second, it almost felt like we were flirting. And now he’s driving me home.
What are you doing, Princess?As my eyes meet John’s, the answer arrives just as quickly.
I’m falling for him all over again.