Chapter 2

2

Raelynn

" H ey, Rae." My father's silver head appears around the dressing room door.

"Hey," I say flatly. I know that wheedling look in his eyes too well.

"Just to let you know, we're doing an extra show in Brookhaven on Sunday."

I groan. "Dad, no! I told you, I'm freaking exhausted . My left ankle is killing me, and my coach says I need to rest my voice."

"Just one more show, Rae. Then you can take a break. I already agreed with the tour operator."

I shake my head helplessly.

"The first date sold out in three minutes. It'll be a great earner."

I let out a sigh. "Okay, whatever." Dad asking me is just a formality. He knows I'll do whatever he wants. I always do.

"That's my girl." He blows me a kiss. "Five minutes."

I watch him depart in silence, then Jen the make-up artist and I exchange an eye roll.

She's still hard at work. It takes three hours to create this face. I don't even recognize the girl who stares back at me from the mirror.

I was a cute kid. That's how I got into this industry. My dad started taking me to Little Miss pageants. Then I won an audition to be a teen TV presenter, then a producer asked me if I could sing. Now I've got three songs on the Billboard Hot 100. I kinda grew out of my looks, but honestly, with this much make-up, you can't really tell. And my body compensates. I'm not being big-headed when I say that. I've earned every inch of it in blood, sweat and tears. And dad barely lets me eat. It's paid off though. MaxiQ magazine just voted me hottest body for the second year in a row.

Whatever. I'd sell my soul for a donut right now. Or a single scoop of Ben & Jerry's. Or even an Oreo.

Crap, and now I'm salivating. I already feel a little faint, and all I've got to look forward to after the show is a bunch of steamed vegetables and a plain fish filet. FML.

The door bursts open again and Annika my publicist bustles in.

"Can't they afford to put locks on these doors?" Jen mumbles through a mouthful of hair grips. I giggle. I love her so much. She's one of the very few "normal" people in my life.

Annika's arms are full of outfits, which she proceeds to hang off every available hook.

They're tiny, encrusted with jewels, and barely cover either my tits or ass, or both. They're all on loan from fashion houses, which get a ton of publicity when I wear them.

"No jeans tonight?" I quip.

Her mouth falls open. "Darling! This is the biggest night of the tour. I've got three parties lined up for you. You need to look fierce !"

"Ohh…" I scan them wearily. I'd much rather be chilling at home in sweats.

Annika clasps her hands together, trembling with anticipation. "Which one will it be tonight?"

"Give me a reason."

"This one—" She points at a hot pants and bra set covered in pink feathers— "Is Gaultier. It's worth fifty-three thousand dollars," she stage-whispers.

"A better reason."

She gives a little shudder of incomprehension. "This one—" She indicates a white chiffon number with a thick, jeweled belt. "Is by Amina Berhane. She spent three years in a refugee camp in Greece. She started sketching designs to take her mind off the brutal conditions?—"

"Perfect," I say.

She shakes her head sadly. "Raelynn, if I had your talent…"

"The world would be a more fabulous place. Me, I just want to get through tonight and go sleep."

Annika pulls out her phone with a wounded sigh. Man, I feel bad for her. She'd love the shit out of my life. If I could swap places with her, I totally would.

"Your date tonight is Noah Cruz from Phoenix Crew?—"

"No way!" I jerk out of my seat so hard I end up with lipstick smeared across my cheek. "Sorry," I apologize to Jen. "We already agreed, I'm seeing Jason tonight."

Jason is my (secret) gay best friend. The only time I get to see him is when he gets papped with me while pretending to be my boyfriend. According to the media, we have a stormy on-again, off-again relationship.

"Darling!" Annika's volume matches my own. "You know how long it took me to set this up?"

"I don't care. This is non-negotiable."

"Jason… he isn't… he isn't your caliber, darling."

White-lightning fury charges through me. "He's my real friend. Unlike all those other guys you keep setting me up with. And he's got more talent in his little finger than all of Phoenix Crew put together!"

"Singer-songwriter, yada yada." Annika stares up at the ceiling. "Doesn't pay the bills, does it?"

I've hurt her. I reach for her hand and squeeze it. "Thank you for all you do, Annika. I sure appreciate it. If you could move him to Sunday, that would be awesome. But I need to keep my plans with Jason tonight."

"Fine." She spins on her heel, gathers up the outfits, and stalks out.

The two-minute alert goes off. Jen dusts my face one last time and whips off the makeup cape. Then she wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tight. "Okay, hun, you're good to go."

I lay my hand on hers. "Thank you. You're the best, Jen."

I puff my cheeks out and the doll face staring back at me in the mirror does the same.

I'm ready.

Ready to be Luna Vey again.