Page 4 of Sing Sweet Nightingale

“I choose?”

“You choose.”

“Okay. I choose to leave. But it has to be secret. No one but you can know. I can’t trust anyone else.”

Luna smiles, actually smiles,with teeth, flashing her extra-pointy canines. It’s beautiful and scary, and she could probably keep all the weirdos away from me without ever lifting a finger if she smiled wickedly like that at them. And I knew right then that Luna would do anything to help me achieve my goal, to keep me safe.

In a matter of months, I’ll be free. There will be no glam squad, no record label forcing me to record only upbeat, poppy songs, and no demanding momager telling me what I can’t wear, eat, or go. I’ll be free, making all the decisions myself, and I can’t wait.

Chapter 1 - Lottie

If I had to choose a city to abscond from my life, Las Vegas would be it. Thankfully, that happens to be where the last show of my tour takes place. It worked out perfectly.

Trying to plan an escape from the mansion or a less populated city would be more difficult. There wouldn’t be an ever-present flowing crowd of people to conceal one inconspicuous girl like there is here. Night or day, thousands of people are ever-changing on the streets and in the casinos. Even with the most cameras in one place in the world, a person can still disappear amongst the crowds. And that’s exactly what I want.

Luna helped me plan the whole thing. Contacting her surprisingly confidential people. One was a girl named Ginger who got me set up in a cabin in Snowberry, Montana. Even the name sounds perfect. I’m so excited to be leaving that my final performance has a little extra pep to it that my team misinterprets as a performance high.

Really, I’m just nervous my mother will interfere or catch me. That something will go wrong, or one of the few people who know what’s going on will spill the beans and rat me out for a hefty payday. I’ll just have to keep my fingers crossed and stay optimistic that things will go my way for once.

My personal assistant Sabrina and my extensive security team meet me the moment I step out of my dressing room backstage at the Sphere, where I just finished my last song. I’m still wearing my closing outfit: thigh-high silver boots with sparkling Swarovski crystals, metallic high-waisted booty shorts, and matching crop top. I feel a little like a walking disco ball. I think my stylist wanted me to be seen from space. Which is a shame, considering it was an indoor venue.

Not changing out of my stage outfit and taking a visible route back to my hotel suite is all part of the plan. Draw attention to myself, show off for a bit, make sure I’m seen and adored so my mother will be more likely to leave me alone for long enough to escape.

My security team today consists of no less than six large men dressed in black with matching earpieces, Luna at their lead. Ever since the inception of our plan, she’s stuck closer to me than she had been before. Taking less time away and being my silent cheerleader. Every time I looked at her, she would give me a secretive smile, saying, “Keep going, you’re almost there.” Even now I can’t help but smirk in her direction.

Keeping this secret from Sabrina has been difficult. As my personal assistant, it’s literally her job to be my shadow and get me what I need. Wedging time out to discuss the specifics with Luna felt like I was part of the CIA, but we did it. Late-night rendezvous and whispered conversations in the back of limos have all led to this—here and now.

Hours, I am hours away from freedom. I’ve contractually fulfilled all my obligations. The tour is over, and I can leave with no guilt weighing me down.

My circle of black-clad muscle guides Sabrina and me backstage and, under Luna’s direction, towards the area where fans are known to wait to see the musicians and performers up close and personal on their way out. Since my mother is off“managing” whatever it is she manages at the end of a show—probably the paycheck to make sure they pay as much as she can squeeze out of them—Sabrina is the only one I have left to deal with.

We step out into the dry Nevada heat that never seems to dissipate. Thankfully, the sun is far beyond the horizon, and the strip is lit by its ever-present flashing neon lights.

A crowd of over a hundred waits for me, and I smile, for once not having to fake it. I’m actually happy right now.

“Is this the way you’re supposed to be going? I’m sure I heard your Miss Susan mention something about avoiding signing autographs after the show. I don’t think she would approve of this change.”

Poor Sabrina. She’s a nice girl but far too concerned about losing her job because she didn’t follow every minute instruction from my mother, who asked to call her Miss Susan like a kindergarten teacher. Allowing them to just call her Susan was too informal for “the help,” and calling her Ms. Anderson made her feel old. Sadly, Sabrina wouldn’t be the first PA to be fired over such a thing, and it pains me to see the panic and fear in her pretty brown eyes.

She pushes her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose, magnifying her dark green eyes, which shift back and forth from me to the crowd behind me. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she can’t help but fiddle with the tablet in her hand. I grab her free hand, forcing her to stop twitching and look at me.

“It’s okay Sabrina, I talked to her about it earlier. I wanted to do something special for the fans at my last stop on the tour. As a matter of fact, I plan on taking a bit of time to myself to recover and relax. Why don’t you take the next few days off as I won’t need you? Okay?”

I squeeze her hand and give her a reassuring smile hoping she won’t freak the fuck out, and run right to my mother to clearit with her. From the concerned pinch to her mouth, I have a feeling that might be exactly what she’s thinking.

“Don’t worry about my mother. You’re not going to get in trouble with her. I’ll even throw in a bonus for all your hard work. Thank you so much for everything you do for me. Take this time to go see your family or visit a spa.”

Sabrina blows out a breath that deflates her entire posture.

“You sure? I don’t want to leave you if you need me.”

“I am absolutely sure. I’ll let you know if I need you, but don’t bother worrying about me. Focus on yourself for once.”

She nods, and I hug her before having one of the security team lead her back to her hotel room. Like most of the crew and team, I’m hoping she leaves tomorrow as planned. We craftily arranged for almost everyone to leave the day after the end of the tour, while I had decided to “hide out” in my penthouse suite in Vegas for a few days to decompress and have a little me time.

It took a while to convince my mother of it, but after months of wearing her down, we got her to agree to it. But I won’t stay in Vegas and get spa treatments and room service. If all goes well, no one will even notice I’m gone for multiple days.

I walk out through the barricaded walkway and stop to sign autographs and pose for selfies, knowing these fans will most likely never have the opportunity again if I decide to remain in hiding.

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