Page 70 of Mexico Can Choke On It
The ballroom doors fly open, and through a cloud of literal smoke, in saunters… Mystery Man himself.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Nigel announces, “the renowned performance artist andpainter… Echo.”
He struts forward, straight to Miss Muffy, and lowers himself in front of her throne in a deep, sweeping bow. Then, he lifts her paw and kisses it.
“Your grace,” he says solemnly. “It’s an honor.”
Hana squeals quietly. “Oh my gosh—it’s ECHO! He’s the hottest up-and-coming artist in the world! Billionaires literally fight over him! The Rockefellers offered him their summer château just to attend their anniversary, and the Sultan of Brunei sent his private jet filled with rare ghost orchids, hoping to have him perform at his granddaughter’s sweet sixteen!”
Oh fuck.
This is the nutjob from the art show at Bryce’s mother’s house. The guy who stripped down to his skivvies and had rainbow paint poured over him like a human sundae.
Echo’s gaze sweeps across the banquet area, making intense eye contact with each guest. “Lovers of beauty with elevated taste, I am humbled to reveal my purpose at this most exquisite gathering!”
He lifts his bejeweled hands toward the ceiling, and light dances off his rings matching the sparkle in his smile. His grin is wide and full of creative glee as he commands the room like a maestro.
“For the next glorious week, I shall be creating a SPECIAL COLLECTION inspired by the transcendent union of Fiona and Gavin! A collection that captures the very essence of their love story—LIGHT and DARKNESS! LOVE and CHAOS! The duality of souls merging into one magnificent entity!”
The room bursts into wildly unearned applause.Fucking rich people.
Fiona stands. “We’re also thrilled to announce that following our ceremony, there will be a special art charity auction featuring Echo’snew collection! All proceeds will benefit homeless seagulls in Venice Beach, ensuring they receive fresh caviar daily!”
She turns to my brother. “Darling, do you like my surprise?”
“It’s incredible. You never cease to amaze me.” he says, pulling her into a kiss.
“Isn’t that justsoFiona?“ Hana whispers. “Always thinking of those less fortunate. Especially the ones with feathers. Did you know that Fiona basically discovered Echo? She has an eye for talent.”
Ugh. I was wrong.God, even saying that makes my soul itch.
But something still feels off. This guy gives me major slimeball vibes. If I were bartending and he walked in, I’d peg him as the douchebag who orders complicated cocktails, hits on everything that moves, and leaves his number instead of a tip.
“SILENCE!” Echo suddenly cries out. “The muse strikes—I must listen!”
He sways as if he’s channeling a ghost from the Renaissance.
“There’s an energy here,” he whispers. “Raw and ripe with contradiction. Someone in this room and I werepassionatelovers in a past life. Isenseit.”
“This is exciting!” Hana squeezes my arm. “His last muse was a Monegasque princess! The paintings he created of her are now worth millions!”
Echo prowls around the table, extending fingers as if feeling invisible currents in the air. “She burns like a fever!” he declares. “She defies gravity with her spirit! She carries divinity and decay in equal measure!”
He takes hold of my chair.
Please, fuck no.
“Her.”
He drops to one knee and kisses my hand—heclingsto it. Lips pressed, lingering as if he’s trying to draw inspiration through osmosis.
“You are my muse. Fire and frenzy. Sex and envy. Hunger and absolution!”
The room gasps before applauding again. Hana is hyperventilating with excitement.
I look to Bryce, hoping for a lifeline. But all I get is buttoned-up rage.
His eyes—those impossibly blue eyes that had teased and tormented me all evening—turn to arctic ice. His jaw flexes hard, the muscle in his cheek ticking with restrained fury. Tension radiates off him in waves—dark, coiled, and aimed solely at me.
