Page 51 of This Side of Beautiful

Confessional

janae

“Hey, y’all. It’s been alittlerough. Sometimes I have good and bad days. It’shard being in the spotlight, and I swear I’mnot being the whiny, spoiled celebrity. I no more chosethis life than the person who has a calling tobe a teacher or a doctor. It’s a feelingI can’t exactly explain, but I’ll try. Ithink it’s like how light and free you feelon a sunny, clear, cool day, only doing something youlike times ten. Every time I get on the stage,electricity flows through me. I’d forgotten that feeling afterbeing away for three years. The downside is that Ihave to put my big-girl panties on, wear mythick skin, and deal with all the criticism. For everytwo people rooting for me, there’s a troll determinedto tear me down, ragging me about my hair andmy clothes, calling me everything but the child of Satan,and if I search hard enough, I might find it.”I scoffed.

“I know my attention should be on my fans and not my haters, but damn, some of y’all be ruthless. Some of y’all even hating on pics of me and Landon, like I can’t move on, or I don’t deserve love. It’s been three years since I messed things up. I lost a lot. Not just my recording contract. I believe I’ve paid for my misdeeds in a world full of sinning folks. I’m not trying to go backward, so I’m not MILA anymore. Going by my government name represents my transformation.” I held my tattooed wrist up. “Every time people want to pigeonhole me into the person I was, I stare at my butterflies. Guess I have to keep trucking, because no matter how the criticisms can weigh on my soul, this is the only life I want.”

“What about tonight’s show?” the producer asked.

Waving my hands in the air, I shouted, “We smashed it. They rocked with us, screaming our names long after we left the stage. House of Blues in New Orleans owes us nothing, okay?”

I laughed. “I’m in this room in the back of the house and I was so loud, I heard Cedrick tell me to shut up. Like they haven’t been running around this big-ass house like boys this entire time or getting carried away and start swinging fake lightsabers whenever they put onStar Wars. I’d honestly be shocked if nothing is broken by now.”

The producer asked, “How are you and Cedrick?”

Wiping my forehead, I teasingly replied, “Whew… dinner the other night was intense. I have to prove myself before he trusts me, and I get it. We go way back, and MILA burned The Hollow Bones… Janae is picking up the pieces. Cedrick and Landon have been boys since they were teenagers. They will always have each other’s backs, and I won’t ever interfere with that.” I leaned closer to the camera. “But ain’t no one scared of you, Ced.”

I backed up. “I can’t talk too long because they want to celebrate. This is our last night in the Big Easy, and this city is so my flavor.”

The producer grinned. “What about the streetcar? Heard you had two different rides with two different men in the middle of the night.”

I frowned. “What little bird told you that? Are you trying to get me in trouble? I’m not that girl anymore. Only one man on my mind.” I drew my knees to my chest and smiled. I couldn’t resist being truthful. I just hoped that by the time this aired, Landon and I would officially be a couple.

Chapter Sixteen

landon

April 19

Checkingon you. Haven’t heard from you. Please let meknow that you’re okay. I worry when you disappearfor too long.

My chest squeezed while Iread the text from my mother and placed my cell on the bedside table without responding.

To ease the inevitable tightness when dealing with my parents, I stared out the large window, breathing slowly in and out. The trees and shrubbery served a dual purpose, as shade from the sun and by preventing nosy neighbors from seeing in. Birds chirped loudly outside my window, alerting me that a new day had begun. My body began to settle as I admired the view and focused on our performance last night. We had officially smashed our first Hollow Bones and Janae show.

I’d loved the intimacy of the stage and that Janae was always within a few feet of me as she sang or danced beside me. She’d been a dynamic entertainer in the large arena in Houston. On the small stage, she’d been everyone’s sister, embracing her audience with her genuine warmth, charisma, and talent. Janae had all of us captured in her enchanted web. My chest swelled with pride that she seemed at peace and in complete command of the stage without using anything, as she had in Houston.

“Is it hard for you to perform every time?” she asked quietly from the other side. We were in my bed in New Orleans and would need to get up soon to travel to Atlanta on the tour bus.

The guys and the glam squad had decided to spend their last night partying in the French Quarter. Janae had insisted on returning to the mansion with me, and after we showered separately, she’d joined me in my bed, wearing a T-shirt and short shorts. She’d wrapped herself around me and promptly fallen asleep on my bare chest. Sleep for me was a long time coming, with such an alluring vixen clinging to me.

This morning, a clear-eyed Janae interlocked our hands as we rested on our backs. “I watched you last night, and you refused to look at the audience. You kept your head down the entire time, but your hands never trembled or shook until we exited the stage and had to take photos and sign autographs.”

I asked with a slight smile, “How did you end up in my bed again, asking me difficult questions early in the morning?”

“I can’t stay away, and I want to know more about you. That’s the plain truth, like I expect from you. Now answer my question,” she replied.

I stared at her, searching for any sign that she truly wanted my truth. She looked back at me, waiting for me to answer. I admitted, “I’m anxious and stressed from the moment I wake up the day of a performance until I hit the stage. Sometimes I need to isolate myself from everyone to get through my nerves that threaten to cripple me at any moment. Then, for some reason, once I’m on the stage, all I can see and feel is the music. Can’t really explain how I can perform when everything in me wants to hide in the audience.” I flipped on my side, still holding her hand. “Now, answerme. I’ve watched you perform flawlessly twice without taking anything, so why do you ever want to use?”

“How do you know I haven’t?” She averted her gaze to our hands. “I could’ve popped a pill and gone on that stage.”

“I know,” I replied.

“How?” Her voice quivered.

Hesitantly, I reached out to touch her cheek. “I watch you, and I don’t mean in a stalkerish way. I can’t seem to look away anytime you’re in my presence. That night at the gala, I saw you outside and how nervous you were. You were so unsure and shaky, pacing, and I could tell you were talking to yourself. I recognized you because I saw me, or at least the part that’s afraid I’m not enough. Then there’s the part of you that’s not like me. You’re always moving. A chair doesn’t know your name.

“You’re flirty, charming, smiling, laughing, always talking fast, dancing to the smallest beat you hear, and so restless that sleep has to hunt you down. You used to keep me on the phone until the crack of dawn with the same energy in your voice as when you started.” I dragged my finger softly under her eyes. “And when you think no one is looking, the sadness lurks, ready to show itself if you give it a sliver of a chance. When you use, the sadness may be gone, but there’s nothing in its place. I noticed it in your old performances, too. That’s how I know you didn’t last night. It’s all in your eyes.”

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