Page 35 of This Side of Beautiful

“Something like that,” I grumbled as I dropped down into my car.

“Wow, and wow. And yes, I’m strolling through the airport and waving as I talk to a future Juilliard professor.” I could hear the pride in her voice. “That’s a serious honor, Landon. My friend is so freaking talented that Juilliard comes looking for him. We need to celebrate or something in New Orleans.”

“It wasn’t an official offer, nor do I have time to teach if it was.”

Janae replied, “It is still an honor even if it’s not yet your road to travel.”

“Yet?”

“You never know what the future holds. It’s good to have options, especially ones like that.”

I stared at my family home, hating that I couldn’t see the good in the opportunities my parents and my name afforded me. I relented. “It really is an honor.”

I started my car and began the forty-minute drive back to my sanctuary.

Chapter Eleven

janae

Los Angeles

No one noticed me whenI boarded the plane to Houston on Thursday morning. My oh my, what a change a performance, a fight, and trending on social media could bring. As I walked through the airport in Houston a few days later, people asked me for selfies and autographs. My crew had reverted to a small handheld camera to avoid drawing attention to the fact that I was being filmed. I smiled and chatted with old and new fans. Rays of sunshine pushed away the clouds that had covered me since yesterday while I’d been parked in front of my mother’s home.

As I was sitting in first class, passengers stopped and took pics on their way to their seats. The flight attendant had to step in and urge people to sit down so the flight wouldn’t be delayed. At the height of my fame, I’d flown private and chartered planes and never had to deal with fans trying to get my attention.

Pleased by all the positivity and love I’d received, I thought I could handle my fans until I stepped off the plane and walked through the gate. It was spring break in Los Angeles, and the airport bustled with teens and college students traveling. The airport was always noisy because of all the people traveling to and from there. I’d been here for seven years and mostly flew under the radar when I passed through this place.

This time, a group of UCLA students wearing their sorority colors and college gear spotted me. They began screaming and shouting and surrounded me, drawing an even bigger crowd. I realized too late that Del failed to arrange VIP services for me to help me bypass such a scene and I didn’t have any security. My crew were the only people who could protect me, and they were busy capturing the madness. I smiled, waved, and hugged until faces started to blur and blend into one. Clenching my fists, I tried to push air through my lungs. I couldn’t feel my face, so I didn’t know if I continued to smile or if my expression reflected my blinding terror.

I squeezed through the mostly Black crowd apologetically and hurried into a nearby single occupant restroom for privacy. I hated that I couldn’t place the lid on the toilet as I sat there, wondering how everything had blown up so fast that. A couple of years ago, I could walk through any airport without a second glance. No cameras. No whispers. No one checking for me.

Iwantthis level of fame again, right?

My thoughts raced, and I couldn’t settle my mind enough to breathe and relax. I needed something or someone to center me. I couldn’t function. Immobilizing fear began to threaten my legs. If I had a Xanax, I would have popped it in my mouth and walked back out with my head held high, welcoming all the love.

“No,” I said sharply, and then lowered my voice to a whisper. “Pills are not an option. You can do this.”

My therapist hadn’t reached out to me since I’d left Los Angeles, and Adam must have blocked me. The only person who might have answered my call of distress had been indifferent to me last night at the show. Maybe he was trying to maintain professionalism, or maybe he’d realized he didn’t want to be my friend. None of that mattered right now. At this trying minute, I needed a lifeline. I needed Landon.

Tears sprang to my eyes when he answered almost immediately, saying he was in the same boat as me. Just hearing the light in his voice soothed me, and his admission energized me. I wasn’t in this rocky boat alone.

Feeling victorious, I strolled out of the restroom with my head held high, smiling and waving at others as Landon discussed ideas he’d had about our song and the upcoming tour. I didn’t process anything he said, still marveling that he cared enough to answer my call and was patient enough to stay on the phone until I reached the hired car Del had arranged for me.

I settled in the back seat while the crew headed to their rides, done with filming for the next month. My driver nodded before closing my door and hopping in the front seat.

“You’re in the car?” Landon asked.

“Yeah. Don’t want to get off the phone yet.” I looked out the window as the car eased into the busy airport traffic.

“It’s cool. I’m still driving.”

“What city are you most excited about?”

“Probably New Orleans because of the rich musical culture, and New York because it’s my home. You?” He asked.

“New Orleans and Chicago.” I pulled my legs up and leaned against the door, loving his voice.

“Chicago? Really?”

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