Page 51 of Fa-La La-La Land
I push myself off the couch, meaning to go to bed, but something propels me outside. With the blanket wrapped around me and my feet bare, I walk outside and stand in the grassy patch by the pool house. The grass sinks under my feet, the soil wet from the sprinklers. I wiggle my toes, remembering Paradise and barefoot summers in the backyard, late sunsets, and dark nights looking at stars.
Rhys’s place is higher on the hill, and the lights of other houses, cars, and buildings shine below me. But when I tip my head back to look for stars, I only find a few.
I love being in LA, but the thing I miss most about Paradise is a sky full of stars.
“La-La,” Rhys says, startling me. I turn to find him on the covered patio, bathed in light. “Sorry—didn’t mean to give you a fright.”
“You didn’t scare me, just surprised me.”
I walk toward him. He walks toward me. Our pace increases until we’re practically racing by the time we meet in the middle. We throw our arms around each other and say, “I’m sorry,” at the same time.
“Thank you for the song,” I tell him.
He tucks me into his chest and rests his cheek on the top of my head. “Wrote it about you… for you. You work that out when you heard it?”
“I didn’t know. I hoped.”
“It’s yours, Stella. All yours. Do what you like with it. Justdon’t tell anyone it’s mine.” Rhys brushes his hand over my hair, then kisses my forehead.
I want to stay right where I am and agree to his terms.
Obviously, I don’t.
I sigh and pull away from him, the blanket falling from my shoulders as I take his hands. “Thank you. I’ll keep it. For now anyway...”
He shakes his head and laughs. “You never quit, do ya? Even when it’s not in your best interest.”
“What do you mean?” I shiver in the light breeze, breathing in the damp, salty scent of the ocean.
Rhys picks up my blanket then wraps it around my shoulders, holding the ends together while looking me in the eye. “I’m under contract with VibeHouse for another two years, Stella. If I release it, they’ll drop me—dead set. Which means you’re out of a job, too. They won’t send you clients while you’re tied to me.”
I hadn’t thought about that side of it. I’ve got Georgia and Piper for clients, but most of my time is spent on Rhys’s socials. Even with the free rent he’s giving me, I can’t afford to lose this job before I’ve found more work. Not only financially, but also if I want to build my own business, which is something that’s never changed on my 30 Before 30, and I don’t want it to change now.
“Will you at least play it for Danny? Make sure he doesn’t want it?” I’ll feel better about keeping the song to myself if Rhys at least tries to get it produced by VibeHouse.
“Stella, come on…” He tries to pull me close again, but I don’t move.
“Rhys, I’m not trying to pressure you. It’s just…your song is so good. And I don’t think you hear how good it is because Danny’s been in your head for too long. So will you at least think about letting him hear it, please? I promise not to say anything else about it. But you should give him a chance to say no.”
Rhys huffs, then reluctantly nods. “You know pushing me to do things I don’t want to isn’t technically in your job description, right?”
I laugh. “It’s notnotpart of my job either, if it means it’ll help revive your career. And I really think this will, Rhys. I really do. Your career may look different if you go this direction, but would that be a bad thing?”
Rhys sighs. “Don’t wanna talk about it tonight, Stella. Can we just sit for a bit? I don’t care if we talk at all. I want you next to me.”
With my hand clasped in his, he leads me to two lounge chairs. We lie down and look at the sky, and I tell him about the stars in Paradise—how clear they are. How bright the North Star is.
“I’ll show you when we go,” I tell him.
“Sounds lovely,” Rhys says.
“We won’t be able to sit outside like this, though. Not for long. It’ll be too cold. Prepare yourself to freeze.”
Rhys laughs. “Spent most of my life in sunshine. Bit of cold might do me some good.”
My eyes grow heavy, and the smell of camellias lures me to sleep. I startle awake a few hours later, wondering where I am before remembering I’m on Rhys’s padded lounge chair. He’s covered me with an extra blanket and is wrapped in one of his own in the chair next to me, snoring lightly. I turn on my side and watch his uncovered chest rise and fall with each deep breath.
I brush his hair from his forehead. His eyes flutter open long enough to smile before he’s breathingdeeply again. The night hums soft and steady, the kind of quiet that feels like forgiveness.
