JENNIE
There was an energy in the air the night before the single was to be released; it even alleviated Lisa's qualms about her upcoming sex scene with another woman. It was a tangible feeling that invigorated the band. Like kids waiting for Christmas morning, they were all giddy, excited, restless. As usual, the guys burned off their excess energy by tormenting Jackson. While I feverishly worked on my book, the guys played one of the Halo games. Without verbalizing it, Jackson somehow became everybody's "target." There were a lot of swear words flying around as Jackson slowly lost his cool.
"Quit fucking killing me, Lucas!"
Eyes glued to the screen, the blond guitarist did his best to not smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to."
"Evan, dude! You nailed me in the head!"
Evan also tried not to smile. "Oops, my bad."
"Lisa, Jesus Christ! Learn to fucking aim!"
Lisa wasn't as successful at hiding his glee as her band mates started laughing. Jackson threw down his controller. "You guys suck!"
He stormed off to his room, and everybody started laughing. They stopped when Jackson reappeared a minute later with two full-sized Super Soakers. "Die, fuckers!" he yelled before letting loose on the four of us.
I screamed and covered my laptop as best I could. The guys let out surprised exclamations and took off, each one darting toward a different point of retreat. Jackson let out a maniacal laugh, then took off after Lucas, who'd dashed downstairs. Evan emerged from his room, bucket of water balloons in hand. At least, I hoped they were water balloons this time. He chased after Jackson, letting out a fierce battle cry as he went. Laughing, Lisa followed after him, eager to join the assault. I shook my head as I listened to the chaos.
There was yelling, banging, cursing, and at one point, Jackson loudly exclaimed, "The hose is cheating, Lisa!"
When they finally resurfaced forty-five minutes later, each and every one of them was soaked. Setting my laptop on the table beside me, I crossed my arms and murmured, "If you think I'm cleaning up the mess you just made downstairs, you're dead wrong."
Smirking, Lisa shook her head. Water droplets fell from her hair, shirt, and her pants. "Don't worry, the maid comes in the morning."
With that, she twisted her body and revealed the bucket behind her back. I had just enough time to tell her, "Don't you dare!" before she flung the contents at me, drenching me with ice cold water.
Screaming, I shot up off the couch. "You are so freaking dead, Lisa Manoban!"
Jackson pursed his lips as I ran past him to get to my soon-to-be-deceased wife. "Oh, she gets feisty when she's angry. That's hot!"
Needless to say, we all stayed up much too late, considering the guys had a radio show interview at the crack of dawn the next day. Then after the interview, we were immediately getting on a plane to start the first leg of the D-Bags' chaotic promo tour for their album. Ready or not, let the madness begin.
When we all ambled downstairs in the morning, bags in hand, Nick was already there waiting. Lifting an eyebrow, he asked, "All ready?" Lisa nodded, yawning. Her yawn contagious, I yawned too. Nick smiled at us, then indicated a woman to his right. She was a tall, leggy blonde who was dressed as posh as he was. Her face was stern, cold, impassive, not much in the way of warmth. "This is Rosé. She'll be your handler for all of the media interviews."
Rosé extended her hand to Lisa. "Nice to officially meet you. Nick has told me many nice things," she said. While her face remained expressionless, her eyes darted down Lisa's body.
Lisa shook her hand, asking Nick, "A handler?"
Rosé answered her implied question about what a handler was and why she needed one. "I'm the one that lined up all of your interviews. I'll be checking you in for each one, and letting the interviewers know which questions you won't be allowing. I will also end the interview if I feel they are not respecting the label's wishes."
Lisa frowned. "The label's wishes. Not mine, then?"
Rosé cracked a smile. "Nick has requested that you not talk about your personal life." Her eyes shifted to mine, and the implication was all too clear. Do not mention that you're married.
Lisa snapped her head to Nick. "You don't want me to talk about my wife? So when they ask what's going on with Niki and me, I'm supposed to say . . . ?" She raised her hands in the air to punctuate her lingering question.
Nick gave her a calm smile. "You tell them no comment, and let them stew on that any way they want to."
Lisa dropped her hands. "'No comment'? I might as well tell them I'm screwing her brains out on a daily basis."
Nick shrugged. "I'm not asking you to lie, I'm merely asking you not to respond, and not to divulge any . . . unnecessary information." His brow arched in challenge. "Think you can handle that?"
The guys all gave Lisa cautious glances while I grabbed her hand. If Lisa didn't deny the rumors that were already beginning to run rampant, then she would be, in essence, confirming them. She was already bothered by the risqué music video she'd agreed to shoot with Niki. Even though abstaining from talking about her personal life was nowhere near the realm of her sticking her tongue down another woman's throat, somehow this seemed just as intrusive. I wasn't sure what she would say to Nick.
Nick seemed unsure as well, adding, "We're expecting this single to reach number one. When your album releases in a few weeks, I wouldn't be surprised if it debuts in the top twenty. All of that is due, in large part, to the fact that the public has a soft spot for you and Niki together. You've become a couple in their eyes, and that sort of publicity cannot be bought. When your video hits the market, the buzz around you two will be out of this world. And if we don't take advantage of that, ride the tidal wave while it lasts, we'll lose the momentum and your album will sink like a rock to the low hundreds. It's a very crowded market, jammed-pack full of talented, gorgeous individuals, such as yourself. Do you want to start your career on top of them, or on the bottom of them . . . crushed into the oblivion of obscurity?" His face smug, he raised a shoulder in a seemingly unaffected way. "The choice is yours."
While he looked like he didn't care, his tone of voice made it very clear that he did. It was also very clear that the choice wasn't Lisa's at all. The choice was Nick's, and he'd already decided Lisa's fate.
Jaw tight, Lisa said nothing. Not sure what Lisa should do, I gripped her hand tighter in silent support.
Belongings in tow, we headed outside to where a pair of gigantic, solid black SUVs with dark tinted windows were waiting. I thought the twin vehicles looked a little conspicuous, like we were spies or government agents . . . Men in Black. If the company was going for subtle transportation, they would have been better off hiring a stretch limo in this town. But if they wanted everyone to wonder who was inside, then I guess they made the right choice.
One of the drivers greeted us and opened the rear door of an SUV before leaning over to pick up our bags. Lisa tried to help him, but was politely shooed away. Our driver was wearing a crisp suit, and even though it was early in the day, he had on dark aviator sunglasses. He and the other driver stuffed bags and instruments into both vehicles while we climbed in. Jackson immediately grabbed the front seat while Lucas and Evan took the middle row. Lisa and I climbed into the third row; it was a little cramped, but still comfortable. The inside of the vehicle was luxurious—digital controls on everything, tan leather that was soft as silk, and light and dark wood inlays along the dash, console, and door frames that created an eye-catching pattern when taken in as a whole. It had that new car smell, like it had been detailed recently. Despite its size, it was a nice ride.
Thankfully, Nick and Rosé got into the matching vehicle in front of us. When all of our stuff was packed away and settled, the driver climbed into the car and we were off. The vehicle buzzed with excitement, and not just because of the upcoming radio interview—the guys were stoked about what Nick had said in the house, that the album could debut in the top twenty.
Lucas and Evan twisted to face Lisa. "Do you think he's right? Do you really think we'll debut that high?"
Lisa shrugged, her face impassive. "I don't know, maybe." Her voice was small as she turned her head to stare out the window; she was right beside me, but she seemed a million miles away.
From the front, Jackson shouted, "Hell, yeah, we'll debut in the top twenty! Number one with a bullet, baby!"
Lucas and Evan turned back around and leaned forward to have a conversation with their more eager band mate. Lisa sighed and laid her head against the glass. Concerned, I rested my chin on her shoulder. "Hey, you all right?"
Lifting her head, Lisa wistfully gazed at her friends. "I just . . . I wish I could be as excited about this as they are." She looked down at me, her brow furrowed. "I feel like I'm letting them down, because I'm not enjoying this."
I clasped her hand with both of mine, clicking my wedding ring over hera. "It's different for you than it is for them. The label is asking you to do uncomfortable things. They understand. Well, Lucas and Evan understand." I gave her a small grin, hoping to lighten her mood.
The corner of her lip twitched up, then she frowned. Scrunching down so our heads were closer together, she lowered her voice. "It's just so . . . fabricated. I don't see why there has to be all this hoopla-crap about some sordid imaginary romance. I just wish that the record and the music were enough to stand on their own. If we're going to make it, I want it to be because we're good, not because people are enamored with . . . my personal life." She frowned, like the idea of her being this ideal, desirable, rock-god dreamboat was absurd, like she still didn't see why anyone would want more than a fleeting moment of passion with her. It wasn't absurd. She was a desirable girlfriend, a desirable wife. But I did see Lisa's point.
"And it will be about the music, Lisa. The high debut may be because of your celebrity status, but the album will stay there because you guys are amazing—one of the best bands I've ever heard."
Lisa cocked her brow. "One of?" I rolled my eyes at her and Lisa glanced up at the other D-Bags. "They've stood by me through so much." She looked back at me, sorrow in her eyes. "They were my family when I had . . . nobody. Literally nobody. And when I left everything in Los Angeles to move back to Seattle, they gave up everything we had down there to follow me, to stand by my side." She ran a hand over her face. "I owe them so much."
Dropping her hand, she stared at her lap. "We would have gotten signed ages ago if we'd stayed in L.A. I took this life from them once. I won't do it again." Sighing, she looked up at me. "I owe them the chance to be big, to really make it in this business. And Nick is right about one thing. It's a packed industry, and Lucas, Evan, Jackson—they don't have anything else to fall back on. It's this or nothing for them, so . . ."
Seeing where she was going, I murmured, "So . . . no comment?"
Lisa nodded. "I don't want you to be offended, or worried, or hurt. And I'm not having an affair, or even interested in having an affair. If all I have to do to make a . . . splash . . . is film a video and keep my mouth shut during interviews, then I owe them that much."
Inhaling a big breath, I considered the ramifications of Lisa's silence. The world would think she was with Niki. There would be so much gossip about them, I probably wouldn't be able to escape it. I'd be bombarded with tales of elicit rendezvous, endless secret weddings, and a plethora of pregnancy rumors. But they would just be rumors. And Lisa wouldn't be anywhere near her. Ignoring her scandalous public persona but still getting the warm, affectionate person behind it all seemed like a fair compromise. I'd never wanted to be in her spotlight anyway.
"I understand, and it's okay."
Lisa blinked. "It is? If someone asks me if I'm married to Niki," she lifted our laced together wedding rings for emphasis, "and I say nothing, that's okay?"
I shook my head. "Being a celebrity isn't as simple as it once was. It used to be that you had a talent, people liked it, and you excelled accordingly. Now, it's almost more about being adept at traversing the social waters. You need talent, and the ability to sway the public. Nick is good at the manipulation part, and you're really good at the talent part. You let him do his thing, you do your thing, and I'm sure everything will work out fine."
Lisa gave me a grin that finally looked happy. "I can't tell if you're wise . . . or still naïve."
I lifted my chin. "I'm gonna say wise." Lisa laughed while a thought struck me. "Oh . . . will we still be able to get married? With a ceremony and everything?" I chewed on my lip. "Because my mother will have an aneurism if I try to back out of it."
Leaning in, Lisa kissed my cheek. "We're still getting married, Jennie. He only told me not to say anything to the public." Cupping my cheek, she whispered, "And I plan on saying 'I do' just to you." She grinned. "And a few hundred friends and family."
Groaning, I laid my head down on the seat. "Oh God."
Lisa poked me in the ribs. "You'll be fine. If I can do all this, then surely you can manage pledging your undying love, devotion and fealty to me in front of a small crowd."
Pulling back, I snorted. "Fealty?"
Lisa gave me an innocent smile. "What? Isn't that one of the vows?"
When we arrived at the radio station, there was a swarm of people waiting outside. They were being contained on the sidewalk by thick velvet ropes while a couple of fresh-faced college kids wearing colorful lanyards around their necks walked back and forth along the other side of the rope—interns for the radio station, probably.
We all gaped at the assemblage as we watched Nick's car pull up and drop Rosé off. A second man exited her vehicle, grabbing two guitar cases from the back; the guys were going to play one of their songs live this morning, after the station debuted their single with Niki.
"Are all those people here for us?" Evan murmured.
Nobody knew, so nobody answered him.
When our car pulled up and let us out, the crowd of women started screaming. It hurt my ears from inside the car. I couldn't believe that so many people were hanging around a radio station at this hour of the day, just hoping to catch a glimpse of the D-Bags. When Lisa stepped out of the car, the earlier outburst was silent in comparison. My ears were ringing when I stepped onto the sidewalk.
Lisa held her hand out for me, her small act of rebellion since Nick hadn't given her any warnings on PDA, but Rosé pulled her forward before I could grab her hand. The front doors of the station opened at the same time, and Niki walked out, flanked by her two bodyguards. Not realizing she would be at this interview, I was surprised to see her. I guess most of this crowd was here for her then. God, she wasn't going to be on the entire promo tour, was she?
Lisa seemed surprised as well. Especially when Niki flung her arms around her neck and kissed each one of her cheeks. Glancing around, I noticed the scores of cell phones capturing every moment of the "lovebirds" reconnecting. The crowd of girls jumped up and down in their excitement of watching this breathtaking couple in action. Farther back in the crowd, I noticed a man with a high-end camera. He had to be paparazzi or with an entertainment magazine; he had a satisfied smile on his face as he clicked photo after photo of Lisa and Niki.
And Niki, ever aware of her surroundings, gave her the money shot. Swishing her long dark hair away so her face was clearly visible, she leaned up and finished her greeting with Lisa by placing a light kiss on her lips. Lisa pushed her away as she stepped back from her, but the damage was done—I was positive the photographer had captured the moment. As Lisa started to scowl, Niki pulled her into the building and away from the tittering public's sight.
Feeling more like the band's forgotten assistant than the lead singer's wife, I hurried after the group. Lisa broke apart from Niki in the lobby. "What was that?" she snapped at her.
Niki patted her cheek. "That, love, was marketing." Lisa's frown deepened and Niki's full lips turned down. "Relax. It's a harmless photograph to titillate the masses."
Lisa shook her head. "Not on the lips. They belong to my wife."
Niki smirked, and maybe it was my imagination, but I swear she was thinking, They won't be in a couple of weeks when you're rolling around in bed with me. "Fine. How's your voice? Ready to do an acoustic set to kick off our single?"
That took me back. I hadn't realized that they'd be performing the new single this morning. By the blank look on Lisa's face, she hadn't been told about it either. The plan had been to play one of their album cuts once the station played the official recording of the duet. Guess Niki had decided that she wanted a flashier debut of her sure-to-be-hot song.
Before Lisa could answer her, Niki swept her away. Lisa looked back at me as I followed behind the entourage. I gave her a warm smile, letting her know I was fine. Niki and her bodyguards practically shoved Lisa into an elevator while the rest of the D-Bags got into a second one. When both sets of doors closed before I could get into either one, I sighed and waited for an empty car with some of the interns. They giggled and I heard one intern whisper, "Holy crap, Niki's girlfriend is hot!"
Not seeing Rosé anywhere around, I told them, "They're not dating." Nick hadn't told me that I had to be silent, although it was implied in every stare he gave me. I didn't want to spoil anything for Lisa by outing that we were married, so I didn't say anything else, but it didn't matter anyway. The interns looked back at me with humoring eyes; they clearly didn't believe me.
When I finally got up to the floor of the building that the radio station recorded from, Lisa and the boys were already in the room with Niki, wearing headphones and making small talk with the disc jockeys. Their instruments were brought in and set up, and I quietly sat on a stool in the corner, absorbing it all.
The guys all introduced themselves. After Lisa said her name, the female DJ told her, "It really is a shame you are so unattractive, Lisa. It's a good thing we're on the radio, ladies, because you would all genuinely feel sorry for this person." By the sarcasm dripping off her voice, the entire listening audience had to know she was joking.
Lisa smiled and shook her head. The female DJ groaned. "Dear, God . . . you're killing me."
Her male counterpart held his arm out like he was holding her back. "Easy, there, let's not's mount the artists before they've even had a chance to play."
The female DJ let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'll try, but you know me and good-looking one."
The male DJ immediately added, "The whole city knows about you and good-looking person." Lisa and the guys chuckled and he added, "Niki Zefanya is also here in the studio, and, on behalf of men listening everywhere, can I just say . . . you are smoking hot!"
Niki flashed him a smile as she brushed her dark hair away from her shoulder. "Ah, thank you . . . so sweet," she cooed in her charming accent.
Pointing a finger between Niki and Lisa, the woman asked, "So, Niki, Lisa, rumor has it the two of you are an item?"
Niki looked at Lisa right as she looked at Niki. Lisa grit her jaw. Niki shrugged and said, "Well, she is quite . . . edible." She looked back at the woman jockey with a conspiratorial grin. "I would have to be an idiot to pass her up, right?"
The woman leaned in, like she and Niki were best buds. "Is that a yes, then?"
Niki gave her a coy smile, but didn't answer her. Probably hoping for something juicy that she could talk about later, the woman turned her attention to Lisa and said, "So, come on, give me the scoop, Lisa. What's going on with you and Niki?"
Looking very uncomfortable, Lisa scratched her head. Rosé was standing beside me, but she looked like a coiled viper, ready to strike out at the DJs if they asked just the wrong question, or at Lisa, if Lisa answered in a way that the label didn't want her to. Just standing beside her pent-up energy made me nervous. Finally, Lisa murmured, "Ah . . . our single is out today . . . the album drops in September."
Both DJs laughed at her sad attempt to change the subject, knowing smiles on their faces. I felt a sharp sting jolt through my body, like a Band-Aid had just been ripped off of my soul. She'd done it. By dodging their question, Lisa had just confirmed her relationship with Niki. Where that was going to go from there, I didn't know, but I knew it had just started. The match had been struck with Lisa's answer; I just prayed the resulting fire was small and easily contained.
Lisa looked over at me, an apology in her eyes. I kept up my encouraging smile. It didn't matter what the public thought. We knew the truth.
The DJs spent the next few minutes talking with each boy in turn. Evan seemed completely at ease as he gushed about Somi. Lucas seemed like he hated every second of being interviewed, and was even vaguer about his life than Lisa. Jackson ate up the attention like a starving dog downing its bowl of kibble. He told all of Los Angeles about his "availability" should any of them want a private performance. But then he went on to mention that he was about to have to kid with his girl. I had no idea if he was being serious about his single status, or if he was just playing up the rock star image. Either way, I was surprised that he mentioned Jisoo and his soon-to-be child.
The guys set up to play after that. Jackson and Lucas both grabbed acoustic guitars while Evan sat behind a compact drum that one of the assistants must have brought in. Lisa stood at a microphone, looking comfortable and relaxed. I would be sweating bullets if I were her, about to perform to thousands of people, maybe hundreds of thousands if they broadcasted online. And performing acoustically was even more of a challenge; no searing electric guitar to hide your flaws. But Lisa was pretty flawless, so I knew she'd do well.
When the DJs gave them the go-ahead, Evan started the intro. Jackson and Lucas joined in on their part with Lisa a few beats after them. The first portion of the song was quiet, but Lisa's smooth voice still filled the small space. When the song switched to a more emotional section, her voice was powerful, commanding, and yet heartbreaking too. As I knew she would be, Lisa was perfect. What the audience was now discovering about her was something that I'd known from the very beginning—Lisa was so much more than a pretty face. She had genuine talent.
Equally talented, Niki nailed her part when it came up. The two singers were standing side-by-side, each lightly keeping time to the music with their bodies, but when the song switched into a battle of wills, the pair turned to sing directly at each other. Maybe it was the moment, maybe it was the song, maybe it was the look on Lisa's face as she sneered at Niki, but I had goose bumps by the end.
I felt like clapping when it was over, but the DJs immediately started in on the praises, so I didn't. I wanted the whole world to hear how amazing the D-Bags were. And it looked like the world was hearing it. A computer screen in front of the male DJ showed a never-ending stream of text messages from listeners. The feedback was unbelievable. "Wow! I can't believe that was live! Who are these guys, because I need to buy their album! Niki was great, but Lisa . . . good God! If she looks half as good as she sounds, I might die right on the spot! D-Bag fan for life!"
The accolades went on and on and on. Everyone was blown away. My chest was bursting apart, I was so damn proud of her!
The guys packed up, then said their goodbyes. Lisa was all smiles as we left the studio. Scooping me up, she twirled me in the air as members of our assemblage passed by. Niki eyed us with a strange expression, but didn't say anything. Lisa set me down by the elevators just as a car dinged open. Ducking us inside, Lisa hit the "close door" button before anyone else could enter. She waved at Niki and Rosé through the crack, then twisted to me.
A little girl grin on her face, she asked, "How was it?"
I shook my head, wondering if she was aware that my answer to that question was always going to be the same. Tossing my arms around her neck as the falling elevator made my stomach shift, I told her, "Amazing! Perfect! Wonderful! I could go on and on."
Pressing me against the back wall, Lisa murmured, "Maybe later," as she leaned in to kiss me. She stopped right before our lips met. I think I whimpered. Pulling back, she seemed concerned. "Niki kissed me . . . I feel like I should bleach my lips before I kiss you."
Smirking at her, I pulled her mouth to mine. "I think I'll live."
As our mouths moved together, I silently wished that we were on the top floor of a very tall building. As Lisa's tongue brushed against mine, her hips pushing me against the wall as her fingers slipped under my shirt to caress the indentation of my lower back, I knew that no building on earth could have possibly been tall enough.
When the car stopped, Lisa released me. Face contrite, she whispered, "I'm sorry."
Feeling a little drunk from our short, heated moment, I responded with a laugh. "You don't ever have to be sorry for that."
Pulling me past the small swarm of people trying to enter the elevator, Lisa shook her head. "No, for earlier, in the interview . . . when I didn't say anything about you." Stopping us, she twisted to look at me. "I really wanted to."
Cupping her cheeks, I firmly told her, "Don't do that. Don't turn this moment into something you feel guilty about. I told you that I understand, and I meant it. You have to do what you have to do right now." Grinning wide, I added, "And did you hear the reaction? The listeners loved you for you in there. Once your album is released, you can do and say whatever you want, and it won't matter . . . because they'll love you . . . not you and Niki."
My eyes watered as I stared at her. "You just gave an acoustic performance at one of the biggest radio stations in the city. Your single is going to be all over the airwaves soon. I am so incredibly proud of you right now."
Lisa's smile was glorious. "Will you marry me?" she whispered.
I laughed at her oft repeated question. Before I could give her my answer, the other elevator car arrived and Rosé marched over with the rest of the guys. Wedging her way between us, she informed Lisa that she had more interviews to give and a plane to catch, so there was no time to dawdle. She did give her a few minutes to greet the fans outside, though.
Lisa was in her element as she chatted and signed autographs. Watching her talk to her fans, it was easy to see Lisa's genuine affection and appreciation for them. She laughed as they screamed and giggled, agreeing to sign anything they threw her way, and posed for pictures with as many of them as she had time for. There were parts of this business that Lisa didn't care for, but meeting her fans wasn't one of them.
Just as Rosé snapped her fingers and told her it was time to wrap it up, a limo pulled up to the curb. For a minute, I thought it was there for us, but then Niki emerged from the building. The gathered fans erupted as she waved and signed a few CD covers on the way to her car. When she passed by Lisa, she gave her a long, lingering kiss on the cheek. "See you later," she husked, just loud enough for everyone around to hear.
Lisa only had time to nod at her before she was whisked away. Lisa looked back at me and I shrugged. At least she hadn't kissed her on the lips again. Maybe she actually would respect her wishes.
The next several days were a blur of traveling, fans, interviews, acoustic performances, and Taskmaster Rosé. I couldn't decide if having a handler was helpful or a gigantic pain in the ass. Everywhere we went she was right there, keeping everyone in line and on focus. Remembering some of the troubles Lucas used to have when he'd solely managed the group, I did appreciate how difficult her assignment was—just wrangling Jackson was a full time job—but she had an edge of bitchiness about her that got on everyone's nerves.
And she was constantly interrupting tender moments between Lisa and I. Consciously or subconsciously, she found ways to keep us apart while we were in public. Our short second of PDA in the lobby of the L.A. radio station was the last moment we had for a while. We didn't even get to sit on planes together. But through the chaos, we still found time to appreciate each other. Lisa said we had to, otherwise none of this was worth it. I agreed. We passed romantic notes back and forth, and Lisa slipped me rose petal messages when Rosé wasn't looking. I wasn't sure where she was getting the flower petals—hotel lobbies, street vendors, green rooms—but whenever she handed me one, it brightened my day. You're hot, I love you, I want you, and my personal favorite, Marry me.
It wouldn't surprise me in the least if Nick had instructed Rosé to keep us apart on purpose. He wouldn't want anyone catching on to the fact that Lisa and Niki weren't really an item. And that's what the world firmly believed after Lisa's L.A. radio interview. Combined with the photo of their momentary lip lock, the general consensus was that Lisa was "doing" Niki; the gossip sites were smoldering with completely fake details of their hot relationship.
The buzz around them was so intense, I could almost feel the vibration in the air everywhere we went. Luckily, Niki parted ways with the D-Bags after Los Angeles, so no more fuel was being added to the fire, but Lisa was still asked about her at every interview. Every time she came up, Lisa dodged the question as best she could. A week into the promo tour, the are-you-or-aren't-you question was so predictable, that Lisa and I started laughing about it when we did get a chance to be alone. It was all we could do at that point. Roll with it, or roll over.
Leaving the last interview for the day, Lisa laid her head back on the headrest of the rented SUV we were traveling in. "I'm so tired," she murmured. We were halfway through the tour, making our way up the east coast.
Resting my head on her shoulder, I grunted some sort of agreement. Endless shuffling around was surprisingly wearisome. I just wanted a hot bath, a good book, and a long nap . . . all with my very comfortable Lisa-pillow, of course.
Everyone else in the car was exhausted too. Lucas and Evan were quiet as mice as they sat behind us, Jackson was sitting by the driver, snoring from what I could tell. Eyes closed, I halfheartedly listened to the radio. When a familiar song came on, I quietly started singing along. When I realized what I was singing, my eyes shot open and I stared at Lisa in shock. She looked over at me with a furrowed brow. "What . . . ?"
Her voice trailed off as she heard it too. It was her voice coming through the speakers. Lisa twisted to the driver, leaning forward on the seat. "Hey, man, can you turn that up?"
The driver turned the knob and Lisa's voice boomed throughout the car. I squealed into my hands as I bounced on my seat. Lucas and Evan started freaking out in the backseat. Jackson snorted awake, heard his bass line playing, and instantly joined in the ruckus we were making. I couldn't even hear the song anymore over everyone laughing and hollering.
Rosé had told us that the D-Bags' song with Niki was in heavy rotation all over the country, but we'd been so busy flying here and there and everywhere, that we hadn't heard it on the radio before. There was something surreal about hearing Lisa's voice coming through the speakers.
I turned to Lisa. "You're on the radio!"
Wide-eyed, she shook her head. "I know! What the hell?"
Tossing my arms around her, I squeezed her as tightly as I could. She was doing it. She really was doing it. And I couldn't have been happier. Seconds later, everyone was on their cell phones, calling someone to let them hear the tail end of the song. I was sure most everyone but us had already heard the song on the radio before—I knew my mom, Somi, and Jisoo had, since they'd called me squealing about it afterwards—but this was the guys' first moment, and they wanted to share it. Lucas called Rachel, Evan called Somi, and Jackson called my sister. Lisa called her dad, and I . . . called Taehyung.
"Hey, Jennie," he answered, his accent warm. "You at a party or something?"
Plugging an ear so I could hear him, I shouted into the phone, "Can you hear the song on the radio?" I held the phone up to the front of the car, then pulled it back to my ear. "It's Lisa's song! She's on the freaking radio!"
I started laughing and could just make out Taehyung saying, "Yeah! I've heard it. They're playing it nonstop here."
As the song ended, the driver turned the radio back down. Cell phone conversations quieted to soft chuckles and exclamations of wonder. Lisa clasped my thigh as she talked to her family. I could see the glow in her eye, and could just imagine her father telling her how proud he was . . . and how amazing those words probably felt to Lisa, since she'd never heard a parent say them.
Now that I could hear better, Taehyung's words struck me loud and clear. "I saw the latest pictures running around. You, uh, okay with it?"
Wondering if Taehyung knew the public perception of Lisa and Niki was unfounded, I told him, "They're not together, you know. The gossip sites are wrong."
Taehyung sighed, and I could easily picture him running a hand through his chunky, dark hair. "Yeah, that's what Somi says too, but, uh, she's . . . in the minority. Most of the people I've talked to think Lisa and Niki are hooking up. Sorry."
I frowned at this news. "Why would I still be with her if she was with Niki?"
Taehyung hesitated, clearly not wanting to answer. Eventually, he did, though. "Lisa's . . . on the fast-track to becoming rich and famous . . . a celebrity. They assume you put up with it because of her status."
I scoffed. "That's not me. I don't care about any of that. If anything, it just makes everything harder!"
"I know, Jennie," he said soothingly. "That's why I don't really buy the rumors. Because I know you, and I know you wouldn't put up with her cheating on you." As guilt flooded me, he added, "We're a lot alike in that way."
Everyone else was finished with their conversations while I sat with my mouth open, not sure what I was supposed to say. In the end, I simply told him, "Yeah, I know." After a moment of silence, I added, "I have to go, but I'll call you later, okay?"
"Okay. Tell Lisa congratulations for me."
"I will."
Lisa was staring at me when I ended the call. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, she said, "Gavin hadn't heard it yet." She let out a deep laugh. "I think he was just as excited as me. Ryujin too." She wiggled her fìnger in her ear, like it was ringing.
Smiling, I held up my phone. "Taehyung says congratulations. He heard it the other day."
Lisa was all smiles, so I didn't mention the rest of the conversation I'd had with Taehyung. I'd tell her later. For right now, I wanted her to enjoy her moment in the sun. She deserved it.
