Page 2 of Roar Letter Word

“Hey, I was serious earlier, though. You are okay, right?”

Addie paused and shrugged. “Well, if I’m not doing okay, at least I can write about it for the next album.”

Bruce nodded, obviously worried about her. “Don’t hurry yourself or anything … Oh, and you know that Franny wanted to meet with you tomorrow at noon, right?”

“She does?” Franny was one of her other managers. She was the emotionally sensitive one, at least compared to Bruce. “I thought I was supposed to be writing my next album.”

“She says she’s found someone who will really help,” Bruce explained. “I don’t know. I don’t really ask questions when Franny wants something.”

Addie smiled. “Fine. One meeting. But I do need a little bit of space if I’m ever actually going to write anything.”

“Don’t worry,” Bruce reassured her. “You’ll have plenty of time. And remember what I said. Sharks and things that make people change the way they see the world. You put those two together, and you’ve got yourself an album.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Addie said, and she closed the door behind her.

The next morning, as usual, she woke up tired and later than she wanted. She had done some good dancing and partying last night. That was her right, after all. She was a pop star, and she had just finished a tour. Live fast, die young, and leave a diversified investment portfolio, like her managers were always telling her.

Oh, shoot,she realized. Her managers. She glanced at the clock. Sure enough, it was 11:58. Time to get dressed really quickly to see whatever it was Franny wanted to talk to her about.

Franny often had big ideas for her act. Once, she had suggested that Addie go all acoustic. Another time, she said that she needed to be totally digital. Addie couldn’t wait to see what she had come up with this time.

She stumbled down the stairs, slipping her second shoe on as the doorbell rang. She opened the doors and welcomed Franny and an older woman she didn’t recognize into the suite the album company had rented for her.

“Franny, it’s so good to see you,” she said. “I’ve been making some great progress on the new album. I think it’s gonna be my best one yet!”

“You still don’t have anything at all, do you?” Franny replied.

“Well, not anything … written. Or done. Or thought of.” Addie sighed. “Yeah, I don’t have anything at all.”

Of course, maybe it would help if I wasn’t constantly being rushed to come up with something,she thought. That was the problem with being famous. You didn’t get things on your own schedule. You had to keep up with everyone else’s. With the marketing team’s strategy for you, with the news cycle in the gossip magazines, and most of all, with the fans who always wanted something new.

But it wouldn’t do much good to complain about that now. Besides, the problem was bigger than that. She wasn’t just struggling to write because she was stressed. She was struggling to write because she was tired. Tired of writing about pain and break-ups and figuring out how to survive. She wanted to write something triumphant and happy.

Only, she didn’t know what.

“Well, that’s okay,” Franny said, to Addie’s surprise and relief. “Because I’ve brought you someone that’s going to turn everything around. This … is Gerri Wilder.”

She said the name like a magician tearing the curtain away to reveal the assistant who was supposed to be locked in the cabinet on the other side of the stage. Unfortunately, it meant absolutely nothing to Addie. Gerri Wilder could have literally been any person in the entire world.

“Oh, wow, really?” she said, trying to be polite. “TheGerri Wilder? From, uh …” She studied her face, trying to guess. She couldn’t even tell how old the woman was. Her white hair made her look like a senior citizen, but her face had the youthfulness of someone in their early forties.

The woman cut off Franny before she could save Addie. “Oh, no. I want to hear her make a guess.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you anyway,” Addie finished lamely.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gerri said, shaking her hand. “I’m a matchmaker. I wouldn’t expect a famous pop star to spend much time thinking about matchmakers.”

Addie looked at Franny suspiciously. “A matchmaker? This is your big idea for saving my career? You think I just need a nice boy?”

Not that a nice boy sounded bad or anything,she admitted in her head. Still, her creative problems were a little more complicated than that. And besides, what kind of boy was this lady going to find for her? A friendly farmer who would show her his prize gourd collection? Maybe a pastor who would spend the first date explaining the difference between the Immaculate Conception and Perpetual Virginity?

“Hear her out,” Franny said. “She’s not just any matchmaker. Trust me. I wouldn’t have picked her if she were.”

“What’s different about her?” Addie asked.

“My clients aren’t human,” Gerri said proudly. “I work with establishing connections between humans and off-world shifters. Many shifters are interested in coming to Earth, but they don’t want to go to a planet where they don’t know anybody. I try to help them form connections with humans who are lonely or curious about shifters.”

Addie had to admit it was certainly a more exciting pitch than she had pictured. Shifters had been on Earth as long as she remembered. She had met a few of them now and then, and they had always looked like other humans.

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