Chapter 8
Luna
Four weeks later
It's a little chilly and downcast today, like my mood. I pull up the zipper on my Thiccletics jacket and proceed to stretch. People walk around me, some alone and others in groups, but no one interacts with me. There’s something comforting about a NYC park and New Yorkers’ ability to mind their business that suits me just fine.
Through the corner of my eye, I spot a guy in a brown shirt heading my way.
Last minute decision, but I pivot and walk to the entrance of the trail.
I can wait for Rio there. Maeven is getting us started today.
Joy. Her message was succinct and clear.
Let’s kick off this romance. The mission is simple. You’re going to go to the park and walk together. Make light conversation and put some distance between the two of you. Just let people see you and take your photo. The internet and I will take care of the rest.
Simple and to the point, except…where the hell is Rio? He kept making a big deal about not having much time because he’s so booked, and now he’s late. Does it surprise me?
Of course not.
"Luna," someone yells my name, making me turn around. It's brown-shirt guy. He’s gotten closer. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
I don't recognize his sallow face or the crooked smile, no matter how much my mind races. So I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I have somewhere to be."
"Just five minutes. I recognized you from TV, and you're more beautiful in person. I don't blame Thierry one bit. I would've stolen a kiss and a lot more if I could."
Heat rises up my neck until my entire face is on fire, and I take an instinctive step back. I look around, immediately searching for anyone who may have heard. "Fuck off."
He takes a step toward me, his hand extended, but his gaze veers beyond me and back to my face. His smirk widens.
"Is everything okay?" a deep voice asks from behind me.
I turn around to find Rio only steps away from me with his bodyguard, Tito, looming like a menacing tower.
My stomach is knotting so bad, but relief trickles in, and I nod.
"Rio, man. It's good to meet you. My bad, I didn't realize you were here. I thought Luna was alone." He extends a hand, blinks a couple times, then drops it when Rio doesn’t take it. "I mean, not like that. I wasn't going to do anything to her. I was just saying hi."
Rio frowns, stepping closer to me and searching my face. "Is this man bothering you?"
"He was leaving." I'm barely finished when brown-shirt guy takes off the opposite way.
"Friend of yours?" Rio asks, still watching the creep.
Relief segues into annoyance. If he’d been here when he said he would be, I wouldn’t have had to deal with this. And now he has the nerve to ask me that?
"Is that what it looked like?"
He shrugs. "He was awfully close."
I flinch like he slapped me. "He only got that close because you were not here like we agreed."
His mouth goes slack, and he shakes his head, but I don't wait for him to say anything else and get walking down the trail.
He catches up to me in a few steps. "Look, I had a call with my agent."
"Tell someone who cares."
"I was trying to apologize. Why are you like this?" his voice rises.
"Because I don't like creeps. I hate being around them or for them to think they can just talk to me."
His face goes dark. "Que es lo que te pasa a ti? You don’t have to call me a creep."
"I wasn't talking about you, but I guess the shoe fits."
His hand on my arm stops me. "Whatever got you encabroná is not my fault. It's not because of me you got cancelled and people think that you’re a—"
Tito steps into my line of vision, shielding us from something. But I see them. Three women standing beyond us have their phones pointed at us.
Shit. They’re either recording us or taking photos.
I quickly avert my eyes, tilt my head down, and cover my face with my hands, shaking my shoulders as if crying.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks.
"I think those women are recording us," I whisper so only he can hear me.
"What?" he asks.
"People are recording." I point a finger in the direction.
His gaze drifts to the side. "Fuck, I see them. We should leave. Let's abort this and try it another time."
I shake my head. "We can't. It will be all over social media. You're too popular, and unfortunately, people are checking for me these days."
"What do I do?"
"Console me. Not overly, but put your hand on my arm, and then let's keep walking." He reaches for me, and I step aside a little. "Not your whole arm." I push out between clenched teeth. "Just your hands. We're friends."
"Yeah, right." The dryness in his tone sets me off.
"Stop testing me. We already failed, and we need to fix it before—" My phone goes off. "Ugh. It's Maeven."
He stops walking. I take out my Airpods case and hand him one like we were instructed in our briefing meeting with Maeven. I put in the other and tap it to answer.
"We're both on," I say on the line.
"Are you kidding me? I tell you to go out. You don't even have to talk much. Just walk on a trail and look cute. Instead, you end up on an Instagram live, arguing. What part of the plan didn’t you understand?"
"I'm sorry," I say. "This guy was bugging me and got me mad—"
"Why was a guy bothering you? Where was Rio?" Her tone is sharp, though her voice level stays even.
"I was late. I had a call with Kresh."
Maeven's sigh fills the line. "I'm going to stop being angry. It won't help anyone. Keep walking for God's sake."
"You can see us?" Rio asks.
"Yes, those girls are live. They're your fans, Rio, and the other Sirenas are jumping in quickly.
We need to get a handle on this. Just keep walking.
Get to the bridge, and once you get there, sit on the bench and talk.
Don't pretend, cause the two of you obviously can't even do the small things.
Discuss the last new fire song you heard. Can you do that?"
I wince, and he grimaces.
"Yeah, I think we can do that," I say.
Maeven cuts off. We keep walking.
"We pissed her off, and I don't blame her. I would be mad too if my clients didn't execute a plan correctly." I definitely need to do better. No matter how much this guy annoys me, I need to stop reacting to everything.
He shrugs. "I've pissed her off a lot lately. I think I'm a challenge she wasn't ready for." There's a slight smile on his face, and it triggers my own.
"Don't flatter yourself. I think you're a piece of cake compared to Mateo de la Cruz."
He sputters. "Shiiiiit. That guy's a fuck-up. Piece of cake, huh? Does that mean you think I'm sweet?"
I side-eye him. "I don't think there's anything sweet about you."
He says nothing. My tone even echoes in my own ears. Damn, I sounded like a bitch.
The flush flares over my face, making me regret my comment. "I didn't mean that in a bad way."
"No?" he asks, his eyebrow arched.
"I just meant everyone knows you're tough. You don't think twice about fighting with anyone."
We get to the bench, and as I turn to take one of the seats, I spot the three women still following in the distance.
"They must be zooming in," I whisper under my breath, turning my face down so they can't read my lips.
"Let's ignore them and stick to the script. The last fly song I heard was ‘Daselo donde lo quiera’ by Mando."
I roll my eyes at him. "You would like that song."
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks, frowning.
I scoff. "It's a ‘Dime Mami’ rip-off."
His frown deepens. "You think so?"
"How can't you tell? Even the chorus. You should’ve sued them. ‘Dime Mami’ is better, though."
His eyes widen a little, his lips curving. It exposes his perfect white teeth. That's the smile that sends girls into a frenzy. And it causes a weird rush in my chest. I fight through the heat in my face, trying not to break eye contact.
And then he licks his bottom lip, and my throat goes dry. "Tell me what the last fly song you've heard was.”
I have to swallow a little, but I admit it’s his song with Chico and Niko, "'My Beat la Controla.'"
And that smile widens.
It reminds me how dangerous this is—correction, how dangerous he is. Don’t forget that, Luna.
There’s a script and a six-month end date I’m planning to stick to. That's it.
* * *
Rio
Every time I sit in Dr. Jacinda Smith’s waiting room, I’m as tight as the string on a brand-new guitar.
My gaze bounces from wall to wall, studying the built-in bookcases and the glass digital panels, which display images of a green bamboo meadow today.
It’s a choose-your-own-adventure every week, as Dr. Jacinda calls it, with different photos displayed on the screens.
The thought that someone can walk in and recognize me and tag me as soft is almost as terrifying as coming in to share my thoughts with a stranger. But I promised Maeven I would do better, and I need to get mentally and physically ready for the tour.
While I wait, I deep dive into the comments on social media to see what people thought of the outing with Luna today.
It was bumpy at first, but I think we managed to course correct.
She even smiled and admitted she loved my last song.
But social media is a different beast, where people’s opinions are volatile and unpredictable. And they don’t make us wait.
#Sirenas, you saw it with your own eyes. Our husband has a good friend, one poster says.
Another is a little more skeptical. I just hope it’s just friends, and Luna doesn’t get her claws in him. Our husband doesn’t need messy in his life.
And there’s one that triggers me. No, Rio needs to get back with Perla.
The tingling storms up the back of my neck and over my face. I can still hear Perla, my ex, screaming that I was shutting her out.
The message sparks a whole debate with one asking, Is you cool? You want him to get back with the bitch who betrayed him by talking to the media?