Page 28 of Just My Type of wrong guy

Some people would say the suites are modern, with cool tones that make the room feel bigger. For me, a white room with ice-colored furniture just feels like a hospital reception.

“Sounds good.” Thomas sits next to Rick while I walk up to Guilherme.

“Dude, we’re days away from our first show in Spain, we have the eighth most played song in the world, and we’re one of the top five things people are searching on Google.”

“It’s insane. It’s like the dream of my whole life, but it’s just so overwhelming,” I say, taking a deep breath.

“I never really dreamed of being famous…” Richard thinks out loud, putting his legs on Thomas’s lap, and Thomas raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. “I always just wanted to be free. And Vicious gave me that. But yeah, it’s overwhelming.”

“You had the most played song once, A.J., was it the same for you?” Guilherme asks, glancing at me.

“No. Because the song was a hit, not me. I could still walk around freely. Now... I don’t think I can do that without Hammer and the crew around.”

“Back in the GenZ days, it was nuts. I went from being a kid from thefavelaone day to everyone loving me the next... It was a collective freak-out. Sometimes it’s hard to believe I lived through that.”

“Alex said your fans were… intense.”

“Brazil, right? You saw how it is.”

“Thomas, you were a model, and now you’re a pop star. How’s that feel?” Richard jokes, and we all laugh. It’s rare to see him making jokes, but Thomas’s serious face does wonders.

“I used to be just good-looking, now I gotta have substance,” he shrugs, acting like it’s nothing. “But being a rockstar and being a model has one thing in common.”

We all raise our eyebrows and stare at him.

“We have to make tough decisions.”

“Decisions?”

“Tough ones?”

Both Guilherme and I ask at the same time.

“Stop talking in code,” Richard sits up, impatient.

“Dani sent the videos and images for us to approve for the vlog this week, but we also need to rest. So, do we deal with them now or watch the Champions League replay from Thursday while we chill?”

The answer’s obvious, no need to even ask. In a flash, we’re already rushing to the living room.

***

As soon as the clock ticks from 7:59 PM to 8:00 PM, I hear three knocks on the door. Alex walks in, carrying a crate of cider under her arm like she’s hiding something shady.

“You’re late.”

“You don’t even believe that,” she laughs, checking out the suite from one side to the other. I watch her eyes move from the sofa where my backpack is, to the messy bed, and finally to the minibar. “Are all the rooms exactly the same?” She walks across the room and puts the cans in the freezer.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s just sowhite. It feels like a dentist’s waiting room… At least the sheets are nice,” she says, putting my backpack on the floor and throwing herself on the sofa. “And it’s more comfortable than my bed in Brazil! And that bed was really good!” she adds, running her hand over the upholstery with a pleased smile.

“So, you managed to rest?”

“Sort of. What about you?”

“Enough.” I sit down, putting her legs over mine. “I hung out with the guys, we watched a game, talked, went down to see the Vagabonders... It’s good to rest with them, it’s been so hectic since the tour started…”

“I get it...” Alex whispers, looking at all corners of the suite but not at me.

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