Page 15 of Fa-La La-La Land
He winces, and I realize he’s not the only one who may need to be more careful about how he phrases things. “Up toyou, but you agreed with Danny. He won’t quit until you’ve moved in.”
The elevator stops, and I’m forced closer to Rhys as four people pour in.
“I didn’t agree with him,” I say quietly. “I said Iheardhim.”
Rhys’s eyes dart to mine, wide with surprise. As his eyebrows lower, the corner of his mouth tugs into a reluctant grin, which, if I’m reading him right, has a bit of admiration in it.
“You shoulda been a solicitor, Stella,” he mutters with a soft laugh as he shifts his gaze up to the numbers above the elevator doors.
“Thought about it. I didn’t have the stomach to work with people like Danny all day long.”
Rhys snorts, and smiling to myself, I follow his gaze to the changing numbers.
I don’t have a lot of experience in Hollywood—or any, really—but Danny was pretty much exactly what I expected from an entertainment company exec, based on what Georgia’s told me, and I didn’t come to LA to get pushed around or treated like a naïve kid from Idaho.
The thing I kept thinking while I watched the first interactions between Danny and Rhys, was what Rhys told me yesterday. In all my deep Rhys James internet dives, I’ve never found a thing about the “Fa-La La-La Land” everyone sings along to every Christmas season—or all year long, if you’re me—not being the original version.
Witnessing Danny assert his dominance in that room, I get why now. Rhys was different in there. I’ve seen him stand up to Archie and Dex when he didn’t want to do something they suggested, but he sort of shrank around Danny. And Danny took full advantage, making little digs he knew would hit Rhyswhere it hurt. He left no doubt that he wants Rhys to know who is in charge.
According to nearly every internet search I’ve done on the topic—and I’ve been down alotof Rhys James rabbit holes—Rhys James the Rock star was Danny’s idea. The consensus is that Danny saw theSurf City Highepisode where Rhys’s character, Andy, picked up a guitar and sang a song he’d written for Frankie’s character, Paige.
Danny knew a star when he saw one. By then, he’d already created three different boy bands and a girl group who were all making their way up the charts in 2016 and selling out good-sized venues. He approached one producer of the show—Archie’s dad, Malcolm Forsythe—and by the next season, Andy and Paige’s relationship wasn’t the only thing written into the script. Andy’s rising fame as a rock star was too.
When the show ended a few years later, Rhys James was not only performing the songs he’d sung onSurf City High, but also songs he was writing—or that other people were writing for him. Fans—me included—loved how funny and a little clueless Andy was. He played sweet, innocent, and mostly unaware of how devastatingly gorgeous he was.
Rhys carried that Andy personality to the stage, where now he performs amazing dance numbers that feel so natural, you forget they’re choreographed. He always throws in something silly, like skipping or cartwheels, even—like Danny said—jumping rope. I guess fans—including me—believed RhyswasAndy. There was no acting.
Now that I know him in real life, I see how much acting is involved in everything he does in public. That’s become even more obvious after our meeting with Danny. There was no acting in there—only a candid look into why Rhys puts on the masks he does, literally and metaphorically.
We reach the first floor, and the doors open. Rhys waits for me and everyone else to exit first before following.
I’m dying to ask about him and Danny. Is there some kind of contractual obligation for Rhys to follow his orders? For him to let Danny put him down like he just did? Or does Rhys not know any different? I sort of think that’s it. He’s never worked with anyone else, and he was so young when he signed with VibeHouse, he and Danny have almost a father-son dynamic. But the unhealthy kind, where the dad’s more tyrant than trusted advisor.
If I felt like Rhys would do anything other than scowl at me, I might ask. But I think we’re both ready to escape more awkward conversation, so I stop just outside the big glass doors and point down the street.
“I’m parked a few blocks this way. Give me a day or two to put together some ideas of what we can get on camera that will appeal to your followers.”
“You didn’t park in the garage?” Rhys scowls.
“I got a little mixed up with the directions and took the first spot I could find. Parking is terrible here!” I search for what set off his scowl, but I can’t suss out the cause. I guess there’s no way to predict when a Rhys thunderstorm might appear out of nowhere.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He takes my elbow and guides me in the direction I indicated.
“You don’t have to. I’m good by myself.”
His thumb is rough from strumming his guitar, reminding me that the hand pressed into my bare flesh belongs to rock starRhys James. Heat spreads from every spot his fingers touch through the rest of my body.
I shift my elbow from his light grip. “Really, Rhys. I’m fine.”
“Sun’s going down, Stella.” He drops his hand butstays by my side, walking silently next to me—which, on an awkwardness scale of one to ten, is around eleven.
There’s this weird, silent energy between us. The energy part doesn’t bug me—I’m all about energy—but the silence does. Noise and chatter are my happy place, but I can’t find any words. I’m too busy trying to pretend that one of the biggest rock stars in the world isn’t walking so close that more than once, his shoulder brushes mine, sending a charge of electricity down my arm.
I explain away the feeling by telling myself I’m reacting to my lingering fantasy oftheRhys James, not the grumpy Rhys who growls at anyone who dares to walk on the same sidewalk as us. Which, to be fair, is only one guy who wobbles like he’s had too much to drink and tries to ask us for money before Rhys scares him away.
Finally, I can’t take the silence anymore. “I think the first thing to do is to have some kind of pool party or barbecue at your house,” I blurt. “Like we talked about with Danny. I mean, you have a pool, right? You have a pool house, so I’m assuming you have a pool.” I don’t wait for Rhys to confirm. “We’ll invite your closest friends. I can get video and pics of you hanging out with Dex and Archie, Frankie if she’s in town. It’ll help people recall where you came from, who you are, what they love about you.”
“I have a pool. I don’t have a lot of parties.”
