Page 27 of Your Play to Call

“How do you know that?” Emilie always seems to surprise me.

“I’m very intuitive. Also, anyone would be thinking that. Let’s go do something.” She sits across from me and taps her hands on the table.

“Like what?”

“Something in the city. Anywhere that someone will get a picture of you doing something fun. Being unbothered. See where I’m going?”

This Dexter headline is one where the press will do anything to get a reaction. Maybe I make it easy for them?

“Let’s shop! You have an invite to a few boutiques in the city and an old college friend recently opened a lingerie shop I’ve been dying to go to.” Her eyes light up. “That’s it! What could be better than casually browsing lingerie? Not giving a fuck about Dexter and his flavor of the week?” She gasps in excitement.

Whenever Emilie is confident about something, there’s no stopping her. She’s a force. Part of me hopes some of her rubs off on me. It’s not that I can’t put my foot down, but I have a tough time going for what I want, whenever it’s not the logical next step. Sometimes, I don’t know what I want, and I stay quiet, terrified of giving the wrong answer.

“You know what? You’re right. Let’s shop.”

Emilie made the rightcalls on the way into the city, tipping off a few members of the press. She seems to always know a little bit about everything. Currently, we’re browsing some of the most gorgeous lingerie while the press is lined up at the door—I’m happy the tip panned out. Sometimes, they get tips celebrities will be somewhere but it’s just to throw them off from their actual destination.

I take my time in the window. Making sure they have a chance to get a shot of me moving from table to table.

The soft lighting casts a warm glow over the displays, highlighting the intricate lace and delicate fabrics. My fingers instinctively reach out totouch the garments, feeling the softness and smoothness of the fabrics against my skin. Lace, chiffon, silk.

I flip the tags, looking at the sizes. A flush of red creeps up my neck to accompany the panic. It’s not uncommon for me to struggle to find things in my size. This is not what I, or my ego, need today.

I’ve always been thick. Substantial. Muscular. Curvy. The words have changed since I’ve been a kid but it’s all the same. I’ve never been thin.

Lucky for me, I have access to some of the best personal trainers and dieticians. When I booked my first major tour at nineteen years old, I needed a workout regimen that would let me keep up, night after night. I’ve always liked to cook, and my dietician helped find creative ways to have healthy meals. The things I’ve learned have stuck but that doesn’t mean I don’t ever have terrible body image days; I am human.

I’ve never been one to beat myself up about what I’m eating or go on a crash diet before an event. That doesn’t mean the press hasn’t made their fair share of comments regarding each of those items.

My phone vibrates. It’s a picture of an ice bath from Tripp. I send him a picture of the lingerie table I’m currently swooning over.

Tripp

your plans are much better than mine

good lord where are you

never mind don’t tell me

Me

Emilie’s friend opened this shop a few weeks back. We’re shopping

Shopping, huh? shopping for who

maybe for my next date? Who knows

it’s a shame Mr. MVP has been so busy

The second I click send my cheeks flush. I don’t remember being this playful with anyone. Everything was always so serious. I take a picture of two sets, one red and one black, and send them to Tripp.

which do you like better?

Black. Always black

sold. Remember, these are in my possession.

whenever you’re free

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