48

THE VIP AFTER-PARTY HAS BEEN DECORATED WITH SILVER AND GOLDstreamers and strings of fairy lights, with tall tables with mason jars holding candles and flowers. Servers circulated bearing silver trays of canapés and incredible-looking cocktails, which would have been tempting if my family wasn't around.

Here they are, crowding around me to hug me, as my mom proclaims that "I'm the funniest person onstage, ever," which is statistically improbable, but I accept it. Humor has a subjective element, after all.

"Is it too soon to call you loser when I see you?" Rosie quips.

I flick a finger at her forearm and miss.

They hang around for half an hour, Rosie name-checking every remotely famous person she could identify and posting a stream of TikToks. Then they take their leave, a combination of jet lag and my mother's pregnancy fatigue claiming them.

"Stay out as long as you want," my mother says. She gives me a hug. "I trust you."

As soon as they are gone, I wave Kitty over. "Please get me a beer, I think I deserve one."

"Right on," she says. She comes back with a bottle, and we clink ours together. I chug mine. It's both delicious and disgusting. I love it.

Suddenly, Royce is in front of me. He's backlit by this weird, angelic light, and I can't wait till this thing is over, or maybe during this party we'll be able to sneak away, because I have things to say to him.

"Hey," he says. "Come with me. There's someone who'd like to meet you."

He leads me by the hand to a corner, and there she is, in the flesh, smiling at me. Amina Kaur.

"Ahh!" I say, very eloquently.

"Yes, so I've been called," she says with a twinkle in her eye.

After I gibber my admiration to her, Amina asks me how I'm doing and tells me that she'd just asked Royce if he'd like to open for her in Singapore, to which he has tentatively agreed, pending clearance from his parents.

"What?!" I say. Obviously, it's too late to impress Amina with my wordsmithery. "Royce! I'm so happy for you," I say, throwing my arms around him and hugging him with all my unresolved ardor.

Royce smiles. "Thanks. I've decided I will talk to my parents about taking a year off as a gap year, defer my entry into Harvard, and hope to God in the meantime that my dad will find someone better than me to groom to be group CEO, and then maybe he'll agree that I can just be an SVP or something."

"Wow, that's a change."

"It's worth a shot. I always thought I'd stop here, but then I thought, Why should I? I deserve a gap year before I'm chained to my father's empire, right?"

Amina turns to me and says, "What about you, Agnes? Would you like to join me and Royce?"

I stare. "I'm sorry, what?"

She grins. "Onstage in Singapore, when I go on my Asia tour. I saw your other performances. You have that special something I like."

My mind is spinning. I had come last in the competition. Everyone had killed at the televised finals. There is no reason why Amina should pick me. "Wh-where did you…? When…?"

"Vern. Vern showed me."

Turns out that after the award ceremony, Vern had cornered Amina and showed her the clip of my performance at the qualifiers that he had recorded on his phone—and a bunch of other clips, too, apparently—and Amina had been blown away. He'd convinced Amina to give me a chance, since Amina had always said that she would love to support more female comics.

Vern…

"There is something in the air between all three of you," Amina comments. "The showrunner, who also works with me on other projects, told me that just before the prelims, Vern was asking him if he could drop out, too. He had to talk him out of it."

This revelation socks me in the gut. I look around the room and there Vern is surrounded by a gaggle of admirers, a small smile on his face. He flashes me a thumbs-up and I mirror him. He mouths something I don't catch, or maybe I don't want to.

Oh, Vern.

"Honestly, I don't know what's going on between you three, but hug it out."

My eyes dart at Royce. I really doubt we'd be hugging it out with Vern. Still…this is a start.

"So, do you accept? Performing with Mama Amina in Singapore? It's going to be fun!" Amina winks at me. "That is, if you don't mind working with your boy, Royce."

"Oh," I say, coloring. "Royce and I aren't together."

"And that's the other question: Would you like to be?" She leans over and says, sotto voce, to Royce, "All right, champ, I delivered the message, now you have to do the rest."

"Thanks, boss."

"My pleasure," she says. We watch as she sashays into the crowd of adoring fans.

Royce turns to me. "So, tell me, after everything that's happened—do you want to be with me, Agnes Chan?"