4. Kiana

4

KIANA

The Ice Lounge is one of the hottest spots in LA. Celebrities fill the club on Grammy night, the afterparty crawling with all the big names in the industry. I show up with Amari and a group of party-girl friends that live in the area.

They're girls that I'm not close with in any meaningful way, but they are reliable, fun, and a good time whenever I'm in LA.

We arrive at the Ice Lounge in skintight outfits and heels, ready to dance, drink, and celebrate—or at least that's what I tell myself as I step out of the limo and approach the trendy nightclub. I've spent almost every moment since the Grammys ended thinking about Shawn.

Amari had to steal my phone away to keep me from texting him. I'm not even sure what I wanted to say other than typing up a long message about how much he hurt and betrayed me. Some essay where I said things I needed to get off my chest, like how I stuck by his side for years. I was loyal when he got cut from the Detroit Hounds and then traded to the Los Angeles Stars. I defended him when the tabloids photographed him with cheerleaders from the team.

Opportunities have been dropped at my feet that I turned down just so I could be closer to him and keep our schedules more aligned.

Does he realize how much I've sacrificed for him? How often I've been hit on by men in the industry? How so many people talk shit about the fact that the best-selling music artist of the last decade is dating some D-string ball player?

Frustration boils inside me, making me hot.

All petty thoughts, but how can I not be petty after finding out he's cheated on me?

After everything we've been through, everything I've sacrificed for him…

We hit the dance floor as the latest club bangers play, but I'm distracted the entire time. The group of party girls I've brought with me hardly notice. They're busy shaking their asses to the music and sipping on the limitless drinks I'm buying.

Amari is the only one who notices I'm hardly dancing. She frowns as she wanders over from the other side of the dance floor. "Don't tell me you're thinking about him. Forget his ass."

"Unless you're a mind reader, you don't know what I'm thinking about."

She raises her brows at me. "K…"

"We just broke up," I sigh. "Four years, A. Cut me some slack."

"Cutting. But also remembering my sister is fucking Kiana, world famous superstar. Here, drink." She shoves her pineapple vodka into my hands. "You need to be tipsy. Then you'll enter your ‘fuck him' stage."

"I'm still meeting up with Tommy about the security thing."

"One or two drinks won't hurt."

Though I give a roll of my eyes, I take Amari's advice, sucking down a few mouthfuls of pineapple vodka.

Amari supervises at first, as if she's worried I'll relapse into mourning my breakup with Shawn. The second she catches sight of a cute girl with butterfly locs and a bullring, she's gone from my side. I glance left and right, wondering how she disappeared so fast, then spot her by the bar chatting the girl up.

Shaking my head, I let out a small laugh.

Amari's always been the bigger flirt of the two of us. The first day we entered high school, she was already racking up crushes left and right.

I sip on more of the pineapple vodka, swaying to the music, trying to do what Amari's said.

Actually enjoy myself.

Tonight was a huge one for my career. I won another Grammy and pulled off a performance that I'm told had the highest viewership and streams of any during the ceremony. The YouTube video of my performance is already trending number one with millions of views and likes.

My upcoming album will be released soon. In a few short weeks, I'll be going on another worldwide tour.

I'm young, healthy, famous, and rich, living out my dream. I'm blessed beyond anything I ever imagined. Does it really matter if my boyfriend turned out to be some fuckboy who can't keep his dick in his pants?

My inner-monologue pep talk helps as I finish the pineapple vodka and start dancing for real. The song playing is by one of the hottest artists out right now, DJ Spitfire. We have a collab coming up on my next album.

Tommy and the label have already decided it'll be the second single I release. It's not the song I would've chosen, but the label gets what the label wants.

Me and the other girls I've brought with me to the Ice Lounge form a small circle to dance. Others nearby take notice, gathering around to watch us. We've taken the spotlight like I always do no matter where I go.

I've learned to feed off the attention. You have no choice when under a constant microscope.

I shake my hips and move to the beat, mouthing the lyrics word for word. The rest of the crowd feels faceless, shrouded in the dim, cool lights of the Ice Lounge.

Except for a familiar face that's seated in the VIP section.

I freeze mid dance step, my arms dropping limply to my sides.

Shawn and the same girl I caught him with earlier are huddled close, whispering in each other's ear, his hand on her thigh.

Pain twinges inside my chest, striking my heart. The kind of feeling that makes you think it'll snap in half.

I'm immobile for a long second as the people who gathered around to watch me and my party-girl friends dance glance left and right. Everyone's wondering where I'm looking. What could have caught the attention of superstar Kiana?

My feet inch forward. I step off the dance floor with my pain-stricken heart pounding faster. So fast it fills my ears, sounding louder than any beat of music.

I know I shouldn't. I know it's a mistake.

It's foolish of me. But… I can't help it. I can't stop myself once my feet start moving toward him and the other girl.

"Shawn?" I croak once I'm close enough.

He and the girl jerk apart, looking up at me with wide-eyed expressions. Then the shock slides off his face and he almost rolls his eyes, shaking his head instead.

"Kiki, what are you doing here?"

"It's the Ice Lounge," I answer, my tone strangely even. "Did you forget it's one of the hottest spots in the city? Where all the people come after the Grammys?"

"So what? I can't come here now 'cuz you might show up? That not allowed 'cuz you're some superstar?"

Ouch.

The dismissiveness in his tone almost makes me flinch. I swallow against emotions rising up my throat, my skin feeling hot. "Shawn, we broke up how many hours ago?"

"You broke up with me. That means I can do what I want, right?"

"But how could you?—"

"You wanted some space. You got your wish," he snaps, standing up. He grabs the girl's hand to pull her up to her feet. "I'm doing me now. Let's go, Alexis."

I'm left blinking in shock as he and the girl get up from their table in the VIP and walk off.

Words fail me. All thoughts other than wondering if I'm dreaming.

How could he do this to me?

Have I really been this blind?

I bring a hand to my face, wishing I hadn't listened to Amari. If I'd gone to the hotel like I wanted, I could be wallowing in private. I could be holed up in my suite ordering carts of room service as I watched chick flicks and stuffed my face with pasta and champagne.

Instead, I'm stuck in the middle of a noisy, crowded club swimming with celebrities and paparazzi. I'm reeling from the fact that my now ex-boyfriend made me look like a total fool as he walked out with the woman he was cheating on me with.

So lost I'm barely able to breathe much less think, I cut a direct path for the nearest exit. Somewhere in the distance someone calls my name. Probably Amari or Tommy tracking me down for the meeting.

I push through the crowd and keep going, paying no mind to my surroundings. The club has begun to blur, melting into some kind of deformed funhouse version of itself. But it's not until I'm footsteps away from the side exit that it occurs to me how careless I've been.

…how I've failed to notice the hooded man that's walked through the same door and brandished a gun to shoot up the club.