Page 22 of Siren's Heart

"Such a good idea. Maybe I’ll try that with their next flight tickets. I’m sure they’ll never return to economy class once they’ve tried it out." She shifts in her seat, and suddenly, I feel her pinkie finger touching mine. Ever so slightly, it rests warmly against mine, not moving away as she avoids my eyes. I accept her invitation and lock my pinkie with hers, making the adorable blush on her cheeks deepen.

"How about your sister? I'm sure she's thrilled to have a famous older brother."

"She doesn't give a fuck," I chuckle, trying not to stare at where our fingers lay intertwined. "To her, it doesn't change a thing. I’m still the guy who tugged on her pigtails and stole her candy. The only difference is that her university is paid for, and she gets to walk on one red carpet a year."

“Only one?”

“Oh God, yeah,” I chuckle. “And that’s exhausting enough. She’s like a toddler, always wandering off.”

"I bet those events are still a lot more fun if you have your sister with you." She blows a curl away from her face. "I swear to God, if I have to sit through another eight-hour award show, only to get online backlash about not looking happy about being bored out of my mind, I'll … well, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll start bringing pillows and blankets to those for nap time."

"So only seven hours long, got it," I say with a wink, and she narrows her eyes at me before amusedly shaking her head.

"I wish I could do my job only doing shows and recording music," she sighs, her eyes turning sad. "This whole... fuss around it is just no fun. I want to make music and have a good time, not get cramps from forcing myself to smile while networking."

Is the whole media fuzz around her that bad? I’ve never seen anything, but then again, I’ve never looked. Maybe now is the time to check it out.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." I nod and give her pinkie a slight squeeze. "I love acting, but I'm not doing it to win awards."

"That's exactly it!" Her eyes light up, and my heart is doing another flip in my chest. "I don't care what a committee of I-don't-know-how-many and I-don't-know-how-old-men think of our music. I care about what our fans think about our music." She grabs her drink and takes a sip. Notably, not with the hand resting intertwined with mine, which makes the butterflies in my stomach flutter about excitedly.

I'm just about to answer her, when rustling behind her makes my eyes shoot up.

"Sorry we're late."

Millie

I whip my head around when Kayla’s voice suddenly comes from behind me. She sounds off. We've known each other forever, from sharing our algebra homework to applying to universities together to starting the Siren’s. However, I can't quite place the tone in her voice.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Asher adds nonchalantly, strolling in behind her and arriving at the table in two big strides as if he owns the place, destroying our little moment. Luca’s and my hand are still resting on the table, but our pinkies are no longer connected. I didn't even realize one of us let go.

What I do realize, is that Asher is clutching Kayla’s hand in his, and she’s blushing. It’s subtle, barely visible in the dimmed lights of our little enclosure, but I know that look.

And, she's looking frazzled. Her long brown hair, which usually falls down her back in a pretty straight line, is tangled, as if she just ran through a storm. And the clothes that were neat before I left her in the rehearsal room are now disheveled, one of her boots riding higher than the other does, and her sweatshirt twisted.

When she realizes I'm observing her, she immediately shakes his hand off, swipes a strand of her hair behind her ear as she sits down next to me, and pulls up one of her boots, all while avoiding eye contact.

"First, I had to get fuel, and then we got held up by the horde of paparazzi in front of the restaurant." I shake my head subtly. They’re not even trying to hide that this is a setup anymore. Why else would they send us here first by taxi and take Asher’s car?

"There are paparazzi?" I look at Asher with furrowed eyebrows, annoyance making my stomach bubble. "They definitely weren't there when we arrived."

Asher nods, and Kayla crosses her arms in front of her chest. "According to the host, they got tipped off. He apologized profusely and assured us that security is on their way."

"I bet it was our taxi driver," I say and push out a heavy sigh, rolling my eyes. He seemed like the kind of guy. Good thing we kept our conversation in the car generic, but I wouldn't be surprised if some part of it still manages to make it into tomorrow's gossip magazine headline.

"Fucking menaces," Kayla agrees and pinches the bridge of her nose between her eyes. "At least the line-up is out, so we won’t be getting a dressing down from Naroa for being seen here together and spoiling it."

"So true," I add more quietly and take a sip of my drink. It’s good. The grapefruit is refreshing, and what I assume is syrup perfectly counterbalances the bitterness. I could do without all the greenery thrown into the glass, but fancy decoration is just expected from a restaurant of this caliber, I guess.

Do I feel like a fool for ordering lemonade instead of a fancy wine? Kind of. But I don’t like wine. Kayla looks at my drink longingly, and I hand it over to her without asking.

"Anyways, we didn't want to interrupt. What were you two talking about?" Asher jumps right into the conversation. I eye him. He’s only a bit taller than Luca, but next to him, with his wide shoulders and his man bun making him seem taller, he just looks giant.

I bet he’s an extrovert. He seems like the kind of person to always stand out in a group because he can make friends with anyone and hasn't met a stranger, like...ever. The one everyone wants to be friends with, except for introverts because they’d probably grow annoyed of him after a while.

My eyes jump to Luca. He shoots me a quick wink before he answers his friend by lying straight to his face. "My fascination for quantum physics."

I swallow a chuckle right at the last moment, while Kayla places the glass back in front of me, giving my arm a thankful squeeze.

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