Page 43 of Siren's Heart

"They’re fucking vultures. You think you know the paparazzi?” He shakes his head. “No, you fucking don't. What these two have to deal with is on a whole other level." He runs his hand over his hair, gathered in a bun for training later on. "They're everywhere. I’ve heard they even tried to get into this fucking stadium. One of the staff girls was fired because she leaked pictures from their training. Really, it's a miracle that their label lets them out of their apartments without security. They’re grown men, most of them taller than the two, and they scream at them, push them, try to get shots from under their skirts; it's fucking crazy town."

"The fuck?" The thought of someone trying to get a shot of Millie's underwear makes my fucking blood boil. "How is that legal?"

"I have no fucking idea, but I haven't seen anyone getting arrested yet." He shrugs, flexing his fingers with anger. "Anyway. Van had to hire a security team for my parents. A whole damn team, Luca. Like…they’re taking turns and giving them 24-hour observation. They're having fun with it for now, so that's fine, but sheesh. Even the baker where they get their damned Sunday cake is starting to ask them about Kayla, and my parents haven’t even met her yet. It’s crazy!"

"Crazy indeed," I answer half-heartedly, trying to wrap my mind around the new information. Well, not completely new. Millie warned me about this exact thing happening after all. But never in a million years did I think it would frazzle Asher, the coolness in person when it comes to paparazzi, to such a degree.

"Listen, man, I'm not saying it's unbearable. But it's different and definitely something to prepare for. So it's a good thing she told you. I know you hate looking people in the industry up online and everything, but man, if she’s going to be your girlfriend, you really have to know what you’ll need to deal with on a media level. See for yourself what the media makes of them, and most important of all, warn your parents and Summer. Because want it or not, it's going to affect them."

I let out a deep sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. Why does it have to be so complicated? I like her. She likes me; that should be all that matters.

Asher gives my shoulder a friendly clap and starts walking to where we actually need to go. And after taking a deep breath, I follow him dutifully.

My thoughts race around the topic throughout the training. Thank God we're in the gym today. I don't really need to think. Only pick up, push, or pull heavy weights or run on a treadmill, nothing requiring much brain power.

My fingers are itching with curiosity, though, wanting to hide in a corner, pull out my phone, and check if what Asher said is true.

Deep down, I know he's right, though. The question is, what I'm going to make of it? Is this something I can do to my parents? To Summer? This is much bigger than myself or even Millie's and my relationship, and having to get the ‘okay’ from so many directions seems ridiculous.

But could I even let her go if they say no?

My gut says no. My heart says no. But my mind? My mind fears that I'll have to make a decision, and deep, deep down, I know that if it came to a decision between my family and her, I would have to pick my family. Of course, I would.

And she knows it too. That's probably why she has asked me to clear it with them now, instead of waiting for me to learn about it the hard way. She's giving me the choice of ending things before she gets her heart broken again.

But I fear it’s still too late.

Even though we’ve met so few times, she’s wormed her way into my heart and made a little nest for her there. I meant it when I told her I wasn’t going anywhere, but now I’m questioning myself and whether I can keep that promise.

I need to call my parents.

Time with Millie passes so incredibly fast, but training today decides to go by in fucking slow motion. The relieved sigh I let out when our trainer finally announces that we've earned our break before continuing training on the field can probably be heard from outside the stadium. He continues saying something about team building, but I’ve long stopped listening.

"Come on, let's find our girlfriends," Asher teases me quietly and nudges my shoulder with his. I grab my water and trudge after him like a dog on a leash.

I have no idea where we're going, but Asher seems to have a plan. Before I know it, we slip through an inconspicuous door and find ourselves in a dance studio, music blasting so loudly I have to cover my ears until they get used to the volume.

Asher motions for me to follow him as he crosses the room along the wall and sits down right where a giant mirror wall meets the window facing the field.

The three of them, Millie, Kayla, and their instructor, don't acknowledge us. They don’t even look in our direction; they’re so focused on their choreography, and instantly, my eyes land on Millie. Her movements are fluent and graceful, with an ease that is just so damn impressive. I can certainly run, but sing at the same time? But she pulls off moves that look way harder than a relaxing jog and manages to sing this clearly? Incredible.

From the corner of my eye, I see Asher’s eyes follow Kayla. I wonder, do I look that love-struck when I stare at Millie? Like she hung the moon and the stars, and she’s the only reason the world turns?

No. I'm sure I look worse.

The song transforms right into the next one, leaving them no time to catch their breath. But they don't show any exhaustion. They have smiles on their faces that don’t even look forced at all, and their movements never lose enthusiasm. I shake my head. Our girls are fucking amazing.

"Alright, take a break, you two," the guy instructs. He doesn't look much older than Asher, yet he has a no-bullshit attitude that makes him appear more like an adult than all of us. "Keep it PG." He points at the two of them, then shoots us a strict look until we give him a thumbs up, and winks at Millie and Kayla before he walks over to his bag and takes his lunch out of it, walking out of the room in a hurry.

"Hi there," I greet Millie when she walks over to us with a spring in her step. With a happy but exhausted smile on her face, she leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips, before sitting down right next to me, fishing for her bag behind her. Kayla has also sat down, not greeting Asher as enthusiastically.

"How's your rehearsal going?" I ask Millie, and she jumps right into a detailed report on which parts of the choreography don't work out yet.

"Well, I didn't notice if it's any consolation," I tell her with a grin. She raises her eyebrow, the corner of her lip tugging upwards as she tries to fight a smile.

"You can't dance for shit, how would that be consolation?" Asher, the traitor, chimes in, and I shove my middle finger right into his face.

I bite down a retort about how at least I know how to move my body in other contexts. Millie might already know I'm immature, but I don’t need to rub her nose in it.

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