Page 52 of Spark

“Yep, and at the press conference, too. And at the finale. You might even have to sit there, watching APM perform, while they grab close-up reaction shots of you and Kendrick.”

“Of me and Kendrick? What does that mean?”

“They’re hoping for a love triangle storyline. Especially now that you’ve gifted them with a viral kiss.”

“Fuck!” I shout. “Can you please ask them to let me on a different season?”

“Nope. It’s now or never, baby. They’re salivating over the idea of having the trifecta, all at once, at this specific moment in time, while ‘Don’t Call Me’ is riding high on the charts and that viral kiss is making the rounds.”

“Shit.”

“I could tell them you’re not willing to overtly help their storyline along. I think they’d agree to you simply not actively thwarting it, since the storyline kind of writes itself at this point. Fair warning, though, I’m sure they’ll do their damnedest in the edit to make you three look like the second coming ofTwilight.”

I look at Kendrick. “What do you think?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck if Cooper’s there. I can ignore him. I wouldn’t want him to ruin this chance for you, Ruby. But if it wouldn’t be fun for you with him there, then don’t do it. It’s totally up to you, babe.”

“If you’re willing to play up your new romantic relationship, I’m sure I could negotiate bonuses for both of you,” Eli offers.

“We don’t have a romantic relationship to play up,” I insist. “That kiss was fake, Eli. Someone played the song while recording me to get my reaction, so we seized the opportunity to send a giant fuck-you to Cooper.”

“Oh. Huh. I thought . . . Okay, well, the producers don’t care if it was real or fake. All they care about is ratings and what storylines they can sell to their audience.”

“They did the same thing to Savage and Laila during their first season,” Kendrick says to me. “They made them pretend to be madly in love.”

“And those two hated each other at the time,” Eli adds with a laugh. “So, at least you two have the advantage of genuinely loving each other already.”

I smile at Kendrick. “Okay, let’s do it. I’m in.”

Both men whoop and congratulate me.

“As long as I’ve got Kendrick there with me,” I add, “I’m sure I’ll have the time of my life.”

“Fantastic!” Eli says with a clap. “I’ll call them now with the great news and try to negotiate that bonus option, too.”

“Wait,” I say. “There’s a condition to my yes. I want a performance slot in the finale for Fugitive Summer, the same length as the one APM is getting. And I want us to go on afterthem, or else my answer is no.”

Eli snickers. “You’re going to write a response song, huh?”

“No. That would only confirm I’m ‘Ruby Tuesday.’”

Eli scoffs. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you go on the internet for all of two seconds, you’ll find out?—”

“The whole world knows I’m her. Yes, I know. But people assuming that is different than me and my band expressly confirming it. I refuse to give Cooper more clout than I’ve already given him.”

“Amen,” Kendrick murmurs.

“Then why do you want to perform right after?”

“Because I want them teasing and hyping up the world premiere of Fugitive Summer’s brand-new song throughout the whole damned finale. That’s going to make everyone and their mother think we’re going to perform a diss track of some kind, so they’ll all tune in with bated breath.”

Eli laughs. “You’re a genius.”

“And with that many eyeballs on us, whatever new song we debut will smash it.”

“Absolutely. It’ll go to number one that night. And as long as the song is catchy enough to go the distance, you’ll have a massive hit on your hands. Great thinking, Ruby. I love it.”

I wink at Kendrick. “And the best part is, when we don’t, that’ll be an even bigger diss than any song about him could have been.”

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