"You should really give that young man a raise," he points out, and I nod absentmindedly.
"He definitely deserves it," I contemplate and make a mental note. "I’ll take care of it. Once everything's settled."
“’Once everything’s settled?’” he asks with a chuckle. “Could you be any more cryptic, please?”
Then I quickly fill him in on Kayla's outburst earlier and how determined she is to have someone fix this.
"Well, she isn't wrong," Dad says, running his hand through his beard. "I mean, it was obvious that they held out your head for drama, but learning that it started as a cover for Kayla must be devastating."
"It is," I sigh and fall onto my couch. "It also means they could have changed the narrative anytime but chose not to. Which, I guess, I knew at some level, but I wasn’t really aware of the extent, if that makes sense." Which is a realization that hurts more than I'd like to admit. "Boyfriends are not a topic that escalates to this degree when it comes to literally any other female pop star. What if they're the ones poking the hate until it escalates? I mean, they do apparently have the power to do that."
"Just out of curiosity, how much would it be if you two decide to break the contract?"
When I tell him the number, his eyes grow wide, until I quickly add, "It's possible. Not preferable, but we could do it. We already talked to our financial advisors. Kayla gave them a deadline to fix it, but she seems pretty determined to leave."
"I would too. Think of it: they've really done this to you, made you hated by half of America, just so those headlines would get you a few clicks; it's only a matter of time until she runs into a similar problem. Maybe when they need to cover something else up, maybe when an album flops." I nod. I hadn't even considered that, but he's right. It stings a bit to think that she's doing all this out of self-preservation instead of for me, but I’d get it.
"Well, we'll have to wait and see what they come up with," I conclude with a sigh and blow a curl out of my face. "Anyway. How was Scotland?"
I listen to him rave about the scenery, bad Loch Ness jokes, and a terrible attempt at imitating a Scottish accent. The more I listen to him, the more tension begins to seep out of my muscles. Talking to my Dad always has that wonderful side effect.
"I'm glad you had a great time." I grin at him. "And now you're on your way home?"
"Of course." My Mom's head pops in from the side. "We can't miss your big show! We're super excited to see you and Kayla."
"I'm excited to see you too," I tell them, and for a moment, we all grin at each other. Then both of their gazes wander somewhere behind the screen simultaneously, before they look back at the camera sheepishly. "We need to go, Sweetie. Apparently, we're missing boarding." They stand up, quickly throwing their bags over their shoulders, and grab their suitcases. "Love you." They start running.
"Love you, Millie." My mother blows the camera a kiss as she begins to run. I can't fight the laughter fighting to break free and tell them goodbye, still chuckling when the screen goes black. Only minutes later, my doorbell rings, and I run to put on my shoes and meet Luca downstairs.
Where Fantasia had a cute, rustical character, Serenity is the exact opposite. My eyes grow wide when we walk in, and I feel severely underdressed. We're walking on a shiny marble floor, into a room where everyone is wearing elegant evening dresses or tuxedos and suits, looking like they're about to walk the red carpet.
My dress isn't super casual, but it's definitely not on the same level as theirs. And way too short, judging by the stares I’m getting. Or maybe that’s just the paranoia Kayla mentioned.
Well, fuck it. I'm the popstar dining upon invitation here. Then again, maybe they’re staring at Rob, who towers over the two of us, deep wrinkles on his forehead as he scans the room.
Luca is impressed as well, whistling softly at the ambiance. "Wow."
"Wow indeed," I agree softly, my eyes on a fancy chandelier hanging in the middle of the restaurant. It goes from the meter-high ceiling to only just high enough over a table that you wouldn't butt your head against it. It looks like a bunch of diamond necklaces hanging from the ceiling, reflecting the light in a way that makes it seem like it’s sparkling. I've never seen anything like this before.
Our host leads us to a more private section on a platform, protected from the other tables' view by a black curtain. They really aren’t kidding about their discretion. Rob remains at the entrance of it to stop fans from entering.
Thank God, because I feel a bunch of eyes follow Luca and me as we’re guided here, and I don't dare look up and see who's staring at us. Once we step past the curtain, I freeze, my eyes glued to the window.
We have a wonderful view right over the river and the skyscrapers on the other side of it. Waves glisten softly in the evening light of the sun setting, the orange glow reflecting off the building's windows. I know by now that Philadelphia is a beautiful city, and it’s by far not the first sunset I’ve seen here, but this view of the city is just breathtaking.
Luca's hand rests on the small of my back as the host guides us to our table. He's a bit protective today after Asher showed him the headlines and even videos of what happened, and while the occasion sucks, I love the sentiment.
We come to a stop at a table right by the window. It’s in a corner, but doesn’t quite shield us from curious looks within the secluded section. It’s definitely not as private as the table at Fantasia, but it will do.
"So, two more days," I grin at Luca as I reach for the menu. Just like all the last times we've sat together, I nudge his calf with my foot before resting it warmly against his leg.
"I'm glad it’s over soon, but I'm also not looking forward to it," he grumbles, reaching for my hand. I let him play with my fingers as I turn the pages with my other hand.
"I know, right?" I push out a deep sigh. "What's your next project?"
"A movie shoot in Toronto," he says, grimacing as he realizes that it means quite a bit of distance between us. My heart drops as well. "Is there a chance I could just take you with me?"
Turning my hand around, I intertwine our fingers and squeeze his hand, a fist closing around my heart. "I guess it depends. Either we're searching for a new label, then I might be able to visit you for a bit, or we’re working on an album, and I’ll have to stay wherever the studio turns out to be."