Page 93 of You Rock My World
But I have to.
“I have to go finish the concert,” I say apologetically.
She nods. But her eyes are still wide and worried.
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay.”
She nods again, surer this time. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
I squeeze her hand before stepping away. Readying myself for my fans.
The stadium is still buzzing, the energy electric, not from shock anymore but from anticipation.
They’re waiting. For me.
I give them what they want. I step on stage, microphone already in my hand. The second they see me, a sound wave crashes through the arena, a deafening mix of cheers and screams. I bring the mic to my lips and let the roar ride out before speaking.
“Well.” I glance around with a grin. “A lot of excitement tonight.” The crowd erupts again, feeding off my energy. “We’re going out with a bang LA or what?”
The responding roar is deafening. Good. I need to keep them with me.
I touch the spot on my eyebrow where the cut is already stinging. “First, I get my head knocked in,” I joke, “which, don’t worry, is still attached.”
A fresh wave of screams.
“But as you may have noticed…” I let my grin turn a little sheepish, rubbing the back of my neck, “…there’s someone new in my life.”
The arena explodes.
It’s not just screaming—it’s full-body, losing-their-minds chaos. People are jumping, hugging, crying. It’s a level of hysteria I haven’t seen since the first few appearances Billie and I made as a new couple.
I hold up a hand to silence them, smiling despite myself. “Listen, she got worried about the head bump and she wanted to kiss it better.” More screams. “And, uh, she did a pretty damn good job.”
More shrieking.
I wait, then add, “I get that you’re curious, but we’re not ready to go public. Not yet. So I’m asking you to please respect our privacy.”
I hold my breath, waiting. Then stare, stunned, as a wave starts in the far section of the stadium—fans rising, hands lifted high, before dropping back down in perfect sync. The wave moves, gaining speed, circling the arena like a living, breathing force of support. The message is clear. They accept my explanation. They acceptus.
“Alright, alright. You guys are wild tonight.” I glance behind me, where the band opening for me is still standing, watching me with open amusement. “Hey, Velour! What do you say we do a song together?”
The lead singer grins, stepping forward.
And just like that, we’re back on track.
We give the fans an extra song. Then Velour leave, and I finish the concert like any other. Without any other surprises or interruptions.
And when the lights go dark on the last show of my world tour, a familiar ache settles in, the high of the performance dissolving into silence. But nothing about this moment feels like an ending. Because no encore, no standing ovation, no moment on stage will ever compare to what happened underneath it. Because tonight, Josie kissed me.
43
JOSIE
The morning after the concert, I should be focused on the meeting taking place in Dorian’s home office, not glued to my phone, drowning in the digital disaster unfolding online. But everything is in disarray today: the universe, the internet, my life. Even the room feels like a contradiction. Someone has decorated the French windows with stick-on faux snowflakes, which I find hilarious against the backdrop of the sunny garden and towering palms beyond. The world can’t decide what season it is, and I can’t make up my mind whether to panic or pretend this isn’t happening.
Instead of paying attention to the meeting, my eyes are locked on the unending feed of headlines and photos of Dorian and me on stage last night. Every single media outlet, gossip site, and blogger is fixated on one thing: the mystery woman Rian Phoenix kissed in front of thousands of screaming fans.
I shouldn’t have been so reckless, so entirely without brain function. I know better. I berate myself as I keep scrolling the pictures. There are enough screenshots of us to wallpaper all of LA and I still can’t tell if it’s possible to identify me. Panic bubbles in my gut as I zoom in on one of the pictures with a better resolution, trying to pick out the details of my face. Dorian’s arms cover me, but I see a temple, the bottom part of my jaw, my hair.
