Page 30 of Siren's Heart

Just like predicted, pictures of Kayla and Asher hit social media only minutes after they arrived at Fantasia. Two days later, she dropped a bomb on me: Asher and her had started dating in earnest.

I was shocked, to say the least. Baffled. Speechless. The double date proved that the both of them might be more similar than I thought, but I honestly assumed she was still too angry with Asher to even contemplate it, whether they vibed or not.

It’s kind of cool, though–a couple of besties dating another couple of besties.

When Naroa demanded a meeting so we could talk about ‘the situation,’ I couldn’t help but give in to my curiosity and have a look online at what ‘the situation’ actually is.

The internet is a beast I just can’t tame. When Kayla and I just started out, I loved reading comments and interacting with our fans there. There were the loveliest people who encouraged Kayla and me; they were our biggest cheerleaders as our careers picked up.

Then, more and more fans streamed in. And with them came the haters. Just like that–what felt like the snap of a finger–I couldn’t read comments on my posts without crying.

‘Go die fatty.’

‘Praying that someday I’ll be as delusional as you. You call that singing?’

‘Look at how she moves! My paralyzed grandma dances better than that.’

People are so fucking mean. And ruthless. I’m mostly numb to it by now, but I still don’t go out of my way to read it. But I was way too curious about what situation she was talking about; I couldn’t help but check. I’m trying to avoid social media – I post on it, of course, but I’ve stopped searching for Kayla’s or my name or reading the comments under our posts long ago.

This time, though? I just couldn't help myself; I just had to see what was going on.

Paparazzi shots of Asher and Kayla were plastered all over the internet, starting from only minutes after they arrived at Fantasia, followed by an abundance of fan theories on when they met, how they got together, and, of course, people giving their unsolicited opinions, which were... overwhelmingly positive. Much to my surprise.

Not that I begrudge Kayla for it. No matter the reason, I’m happy if people are happy for her. I'm just confused, I guess. Whenever pics of my boyfriends and I leaked, it was all, 'What does he want with her?' But when it’s Kayla, it's 'Oh my God, they are so perfect together.'

I don’t know how to feel about it. Kind of angry, but also… hurt?

Well, whatever. I shouldn't care about what randos on the internet think about me, much less my relationship.

But that’s easier said than done.

What hurts the most, though, isn’t that people are happy for her and not for me. It’s that Kayla didn't even talk to me. In the beginning of our friendship, I always knew when she had a crush. And now she just introduces me to a new relationship like ‘boom, here he is.’

It makes me feel kind of bad for always venting to her when I'm with someone new. What kind of friend am I to expect her to listen to my word-vomit when she doesn’t feel like she can talk to me in return?

"Ah yes, America's dream couple," Naroa chuckles as she scrolls through her phone. "Thanks to the news, the remaining tickets for the match are now sold out. And we're expecting an impressive TV audience hoping to catch a glimpse of the lovebirds." She finds what she was looking for on her phone and looks up at us. "Don't feel obligated because of that, though. If you break up just before the match, people will tune in for the drama as well, alright? I'll handle it."

"Thanks, Naroa," Kayla mumbles and crosses her arms in front of her chest. "But I think for now, you'll have to worry more about Millie's smile blinding the whole damn city."

"Right," Naroa sighs and looks at me. Of course, when we went over the whole Kayla and Asher situation, we also filled her in on Luca and me. "As long as it's not in the news, I don't really care, Millie."

"I'm trying to keep everything under wraps for now." I give her a solemn nod.

“Good, that’s good.” Naroa nods, furiously typing something into her phone. "Makes life easier for me. Just let me know when you decide to go public, and I’ll handle it, alright?" she sighs. But I know it's a sigh because she's frustrated for us, not about us.

"Of course,” I promise and give her a cheerful nod. “Now, can I go?" I jump up and shift my weight from one foot to the other impatiently. "Or is there anything else you need from me?"

"No, we're done," Naroa says with a chuckle and even Kayla looks at me, amused. "Have fun on your date."

"Will do!" I shout, already halfway out of the door.

"Nude lipstick or pink?" I hold both shades up to the camera of my phone. This is the third panic call I've made to Kayla in the past half hour as I'm getting ready for our date. Maybe asking her to come over while I get ready would have been easier.

But I like to pretend that I’m a strong, independent woman, capable of making my own fashion choices. Turns out only the first part of that is true. And I still feel like a burden for annoying her with it while she’s so self-assured that she doesn’t need it. Plus, the silence in my apartment manages to calm me down. I just know if she were here, I’d feel the need to fill it with chatter, which would make me more nervous in return.

"You look great. Just throw on some gloss." To Kayla’s credit, she doesn’t sound annoyed at all.

"Well, which one?" I ruffle through all of the little tubes and pencils in my lip makeup kit and hold them in front of the camera to see. Yes, I have my own makeup bag just for lip products. "I have like five to pick from."

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