Page 12 of Songbird
“How did you convince others you were his mate? Your scents would not have mingled.” Jala pondered aloud.
Izzy’s blush deepened, and my tail twitched with the adorableness of it. “Um… most people on Earth don’t have noses that good, thankfully.”
“Then how did you convince them?” My sister-in-law leaned forward in her chair, reaching for my brother’s hand and entwining her fingers with his. Despite being two different species, no one ever doubted the love and devotion they felt for one another.
A faint giggle rose from Izzy’s lips, and her delicate shoulders raised in a shrug. “There wasn’t much to it, honestly. Sam came to a few of my concerts. I visited him on set, and we went to a few awards shows together. The paparazzi did the rest.”
“What is pap-pur-atzi?” Jala seemed fascinated.
“Paparazzi is someone who follows famous people around and takes their photograph,” Izzy explained. “In my case, with Sam, we made sure someone leaked to the paparazzi anytime we’d be together. The paparazzi took pictures, and those pictures convinced everyone we had mated.”
A broad smile curved Jala’s lips.
“Why are you smiling?” I groused at my sister-in-law. I did not like the discussion of Izzy with another male, even if it was pretend. “We do not have thesepop-purr-asses.”
“No.” A sly smile broke across her face, and her golden eyes sparkled. “But the station is full of gossips.”
Chapter 7 – Izzy
A heavy, suffocating feeling of dread settled over me like a thick blanket. I never wanted to be Sam Harlow’s beard. Sam was a sweet, genuine guy who only wanted to live his life truthfully, but the studio forbade it.
As usual, it was all my mother’s idea. And like most of her ideas, it didn’t take long to spiral out of control.
Our fake relationship lasted for months until Sam’s managers thought it best to move on, lest people began expecting to see a diamond ring on my finger.
The story would be that we ended things, as my touring schedule didn’t leave us much time to see each other. Of course, my mother couldn’t stand the fact that I might look less than perfect in the scenario, so she did what she always did—manipulated and lied. She broke into my phone, finding a photo I’d taken of Sam and his true love Arnold in an intimate embrace, and leaked it to the press, claiming that I was shocked and heartbroken by Sam’s lies and betrayal.
Sam was destroyed—not only emotionally, but his career teetered on the brink of ruination. I couldn’t let it stand. Sam might not have been my lover, but he was my friend.
I managed to convince my mother that Sam and I needed one last dinner together. One last time in front of the camera lens so that I could be seen as forgiving—the bigger person in the situation. The restaurant we picked stood only a few blocks from where Jimmy Fallon’s show filmed in Rockefeller Plaza. WithArnold’s help, we slipped away from the bodyguards my mother had dogging my every step and made our way to Studio 6B.
Jimmy was only too happy to have us on his show to set the record straight about our relationship. Of course, it was all a lie. We spun the tale of how Sam tried helping his lifelong friend try out for a Broadway role that would require him to play a gay man, going so far as to rehearse the audition with him while I filmed the scene for critique purposes. Unfortunately, I lamented, my mother saw the video on my phone, got the completely wrong idea and overreacted. The whole time, Sam sat by my side, holding my hand, kissing my fingers, stroking my hair, and doing the dozens of things that kept him ranked as the most romantic man on television.
With millions of viewers watching our every move, Sam and I promised that our romance was as strong as ever. Of course, we mentioned that with our conflicting schedules, spending time together was hard, laying in an excuse for when we would inevitably break up a few months later.
My mother was livid. It wasn’t the first time she’d slapped me, but it ranked as one of the hardest.
Sam and I never broke up. The aliens grabbed me two weeks later, right before my concert at the Gorge Amphitheatre. I could only imagine the circus that followed my disappearance. My mother, of course, would use the incident to drag the spotlight onto herself. I just prayed Sam was spared her theatrics.
Yet here I was, ready to dive into a fake relationship once again. However, this time, I truly felt I had no choice. The thought of ending up in Kayzon’s hands made me sick with dread and desperation. And strange as it seemed, Tarrick provided a sense of safety and protection. It wasn’t just his relation to Jala and Praxxan, who had shown me nothing but kindness since my arrival. There was something about Tarrickhimself that put me at ease. Despite only having met him today, I hadn’t felt this secure with another person in a long time. Even his spicy, musky scent was calming, like deep leather and Christmas morning. Whatever it might be, I felt like I could trust him.
“So, how are we going to make this work?” Personally, I couldn’t fathom how we would navigate the ruse without social media, something that aliens lacked, even with advanced technology. But perhaps there was still value in traditional ways, like gossip. I thought back to the old movie magazines from the 1940s and 1950s. It was a time when secrets and scandals were carefully hidden, as evidenced by the fact that no one knew Rock Hudson was gay until shortly before his death.
“You said photos of you and this male together were used to infer a mating?” Jala tapped her chin with a finger. I could practically see her mind whirring.
“Yes.”
“But we have nothing like thispuppy-r-teratsi,”Praxxan reminded her. At least, I think he did. I wasn’t sure from the way he butchered the word.
“No,” Jala grinned up at her mate, lifting his hand to place a kiss on his thick knuckles. “But we have the Berajbe.”
A light seemed to go on inside both Praxxan and Tarrick, and they both grinned broadly. I, however, remained confused as shit.
“What’s aBerajbe?”
“Nosiest species in the universe,” Tarrick told me with a grin. Gosh, he was downright handsome when he smiled, despite the sharpness of his canines. “Half the reason I’ve got such a reputation is because of them.”
“There’s a community of Berajbe on the station,” Jala added, waggling her brows.
