Page 115 of Collide
I nod.
She whistles, leaning back. “Huh. Okay, I gotta admit—that’s not the worst idea. You’re launching an album. It puts the focus on your music and not your…extracurriculars.”
I give her a look. “Did you call my dating life ‘extracurriculars’?”
She shrugs. “I’m trying to be classy about it.”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes.
Kylie.
I sigh. “Perfect timing.”
Riley leans in. “Put her on speaker.”
I do.
“Kylie, let me guess—you’re calling about the gala?”
Her sigh is sharp. “Oh, good. You already know. That saves me time.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Let me guess, you think it’s a good idea, too?”
“Of course I do,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s the perfect opportunity to shift the narrative away from Alexander. It lets the press focus on your music while also making you look like the poised, philanthropic artist you are. Win-win.”
I groan, rubbing my temples. “God, not you too.”
Riley smirks. “That’s two votes in favor, babe. I think you’re outnumbered.”
“Okay, I’ll coordinate your diary with Mark. The Montgomery PR team will already have selected media presence there, so that’s covered, Kylie out,” and the call ends.
I stare at the ceiling, feeling utterly betrayed, like I’ve somehow lost all autonomy over my own life.
Riley shifts beside me, her tone uncharacteristically measured. “Babe, you knew this would come with the territory. Even if you weren’t dating Alex, with your insane talent, your career was always going to put you under a spotlight. This speeds things up.”
I exhale sharply, rubbing my temples. “It’s not just that. It’s him using it to ‘control the narrative.’ It’s the idea of playing a part for the press instead of letting my career speak for itself.”
Riley tilts her head, eyes filled with equal parts amusement and brutal honesty. “Elena, I love you, but you knew this was part of the deal. The moment you got serious about music—the second you started dating a literal walking Calvin Klein ad—your life became public domain.”
I groan. “Don’t remind me.”
I hesitate.
Because I’d been avoiding him since the story broke.
Riley watches me carefully, the teasing edge in her expression softening into something more thoughtful, steady.
“Stop hiding,” she says gently. “You should talk to him.”
Her voice is maddeningly matter-of-fact, as though this isn’t something I’ve been agonizing over for days.
Oh, Riley. I could never survive this insane, unpredictable life without her.
I exhale, pushing away my pride, my nerves, and pick up my phone. My fingers hover for a moment before I type out the message.
Elena
Hey, settled back in NYC. Come over for dinner and a movie?
