“Coming out is personal,” Zoe offered. “Everyone handles it differently.”
Lola smiled graciously. “Thank you for saying that, but for someone in my position, it’s not just personal. I have the power to make a difference. I know that representation matters, but I want to do more than, you know, prove that a pop star can be bisexual. I want to actually help people.” She adjusted her glasses again, trying to ignore her nerves. “I’m planning to come out soon. I’m trying to find the perfect time. Coordinating it with the launch of the foundation and my new album would really maximize the impact.”
Zoe’s brow dipped. “People might say you’re doing it for attention. For profit.”
“To some extent, they’d be right,” Lola conceded. “But the money and attention are going to a good cause. Look, I’ve taken a lot of criticism in my career. I’ve realized that I simply can’t please everyone. People will complain that I didn’t come out sooner, and some will be upset that I came out at all. They’ll criticize me for having too much privilege, even when I’m trying to use it to make a difference, or say that it’s too little too late. But I’d rather try too hard to help my community than not try at all.”
Zoe regarded her, unsmiling. Lola’s shoulders drooped as the adrenaline of her little speech ebbed. If Zoe didn’t want to join her, she’d find someone else. She wouldn’t stop. She’d find a way.
Then Zoe nodded, her hair bouncing. “Okay, let’s see what we can do together.”
Lola found herself babbling with excitement but promised to send over the offer letter that same day.
When she closed Zoom, her email was open behind it.
Lola’s breath caught. There was a message from Renee.
The text was short enough that she could read the whole thing in the preview.
Lo, This is just for us. I couldn’t help myself. x Renee
She didn’t know what to make of that, but then she saw there was an attachment.
A video.
She opened it. The screen was black at first and then filled with the opening notes of “Starcrossed.” Lola held her breath, her teeth tight against her lip as an image of herself appeared on the screen. Shewas on the beach on Lake Michigan, with her glasses and that windbreaker on, her hair tangling in the wind. The song played as she reached for the camera and then there was Renee—Lola’s stomach lurched. Renee looked beautiful, her strong jaw, her messy bleached hair wild in the wind too, her eyes not on the camera, but fixed on Lola behind it. Lola had missed the effect Renee’s face had on her—a kind of hunger, insatiable, like Renee was always exactly what she needed. Renee stepped out of frame, and Lola remembered what was coming before she saw it. She flipped the camera around to film them both, Renee’s cheek pressed to Lola’s temple, her arms circling Lola’s middle and holding her tight. They’d been together for two days at that point, and Lola had never seen two people who looked more in love.
Renee had found actual footage of the moments Lola sang about. Renee wearing Lola’s shirt on set as she rubbed her shoulders that first day. The pair of them goofy and laughing in her studio, belting out the 4 Non Blondes. Kissing on the couch after Lola had played “Starcrossed” for her.
It was a collection of perfect, private moments, set to the music written for them.
Lola smiled to herself at the second half of Renee’s message:I couldn’t help myself.
Of course she couldn’t. Renee couldn’t stop making films any more than Lola could leave behind songwriting. Watching Renee’s work, now, Lola wished not only that Renee had stayed, but that she’d never stopped filming. In some ways, over these last few weeks, she’d been living out the story that Renee had always wanted to tell. A story Renee had believed Lola was capable of living.
Something locked into place—Lola did know what was right for herself, that she deserved to be happy. She understood now that it wasn’t Gloriana, or Ava, or anyone else preventing her from having that. Lola had to be brave enough to make those choices for herself.
She was ready to do that.
Renee had a lot of reasons to be angry at Lola. Lola had lied to her repeatedly about talking to Gloriana. She’d repressed her own fears about coming out, until she’d caved when Gloriana applied the right pressure, although she knew it would hurt the person she loved most. Reneehadgotten too invested in making Lola’s story her thesis, and she’d made a serious error in judgment when she’d gone to talk to Ava—but none of it felt malicious now.
Lola wanted to apologize.
More than that, she wanted Renee back.
***
Renee was alone for closing at Prince’s, wiping down the counter, when she spotted the Lo-Lite on the sidewalk. Who else would film themselves outside a not-particularly-charming coffee shop during a February cold snap? The weather had scared off all the customers, and Renee had been hoping to get away early. She didn’t look up as the door swung open, but instead concentrated on praying this person did not ask about Lola Gray.
“Heads up, we’re closing in five,” Renee said.
“Okay.”
At the sound of that voice, Renee’s heart shot to her throat, her fist clenching up on the wet rag in her hand.
“Hi,” Lola said. She was wrapped in a puffy coat, her cheeks stung red by the frigid evening.
“What are you doing here?” Renee breathed.