Page 18 of Prince of the Palisades

I’m leaving soon. Just like I should’ve left this party the second I walked in.

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“So, Jadon, tell us what music you’re listening to.”

I fight off a yawn. It’s 4:00 p.m., but I’m still exhausted from the party last night. From the two hours I spent in bed, staring at the ugly ceiling fixture, replaying Reiss’s words in my head.

It’s a good thing you’re nothing like the guy people say you are.

“Your Highness,” Samuel whispers from off-set.

I startle, then grimace at Khalia, theTeenBuzzinterviewer. She’s a young Black woman with short twists and a beautiful smile. Her head tilts as she waits for my answer. She’s been patient all afternoon. When the photoshoot ran longbecause one of the four puppies they brought in—“People love dogs and we want them to love you!” Samuel enthusiastically explained—decided to pee on my shoes, delaying our start time by an hour, she didn’t complain.

We’re at a studio in the Arts District of Downtown Los Angeles. Samuel scheduled today’s meeting to help boost Shiny New Jadon’s fun side. I briefly stare off into the LED lights surrounding us, considering Khalia’s earlier question.

So far, the interview has been easy, if not basic. Topics I could talk about in my sleep. If I got any, that is. But I’m feeling weirdly nervous. Like I’m being interrogated by Papa instead of someone who looks fresh out of university.

Every answer needs to be flawless, or I’ll never get back to Réverie.

“You can look at your playlist,” Khalia offers, as if she can sense my anxiousness.

I let out a small laugh. “No, no. It’s fine. Lately, I’ve been into a bunch of underground hip-hop. Some indie R&B artists. A little pop. House music.”

“A man of taste,” Khalia comments, impressed. “Any specifics?”

I think for a moment. “Moonglow.”

Her eyes brighten. “Interesting. Do you have a fav?”

I wiggle around in my chair. A realization lights up in my brain like a giant neon sign: I only know one of their songs. The one that was playing while I was sitting outside with Reiss.

“Not really,” I answer.

“Are you sure?” She sits forward in her own chair, beaming. “The dimples are out.”

Reflexively, I reach up to touch my cheeks, then drop my hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Does their music remind you of someone?”

Maybe. “Not at all,” I lie.

“A lot of their songs have a romantic vibe,” Khalia notes. “Is it the kind of music you’d play for a crush? Potential boyfriend?”

My eyes cheat to Samuel. His face is growing increasingly concerned. Behind Khalia, the cameras feel closer than they were before. I rub my sweaty palms on the designer jeans selected for me. Typically, these questions are given to me in advance, but I didn’t request them this time.

This was supposed to be a simple,funinterview.

What would Annika say?

I clear my throat. “That’s a very unoriginal way to tell someone how you feel.”

Well, she definitely wouldn’t saythat.

Somewhere, behind the lights, I hear Samuel facepalming.

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