Page 77 of Selling Out
I think Austin is making this about himself. I don’t think Noah asked me to sing with him because of that. I think he saw my talent and went for an opportunity to do me a favorandmake a performance fans would love. And they did.
I don’t think Austin can see straight when it comes to Noah. He says Noah has a reputation, but guess what? So does Austin, and I’ve seen firsthand how inaccurate it is. Austin’s not a talentless womanizer. He’s fun and thoughtful andverytalented. So why should I believe Noah’s reputation?
But the thing Austin said about me selling out?
I’m worried he’s right. This whole time, I’ve been so adamant I want success on my own terms and on my own merit. I don’t want any legs up. But then Noah comes along, and I jump at the chance to sing a duet with him. WhydidI say yes? I told Austin it’s because Noah has my same style, but doesn’t that just mean I’m hoping his fans will become my fans?
I convinced myself that touring with Austin had nothing to do with my hopes and dreams for my own career, but I was kidding myself. If getting exposure from other artists is selling out, I took a step in that direction the second I said yes to Austin.
The bus rideto Paris takes five hours, and for the first hour of it, Kelly and Rose are eager to rehash my experience singing with Noah. Not that I mind. Itwasamazing.
But my thoughts keep turning to Austin. I can’t even tell whether I’m mad at him or myself. Both, I guess.
“Look at you,” Kelly teases. “Performing with Austin Sheppard. Kissing Austin Sheppard. Performing with Noah Hayes. Who knows what’s next?” She wags her brows.
“Movin’ onup!” Rose says, putting out her palm for a high-five.
I smack my hand against hers and laugh, but it’s as genuine as the cubic zirconia on my finger. I love Noah Hayes’s music, but there’s no spark with him, and I don’t want Kelly and Rose—or Austin—thinking I’m making a habit of performing with musicians and then… doing more than that with them.
The day is a blur once we get to Paris. It’s a big venue for us, and the stage configuration is different from any of the others so far, which means extra rehearsingand blocking.
I’m probably being hypersensitive, but when Noah puts his hand on my waist at one point during rehearsal, I get stiff, and my gaze darts to Austin, who looks away.
It’s almost midnight when we finish and head for the buses. I feel strange not having talked with Austin much today, but things are still weird between us, and it’s leaving a sour taste in my mouth.
So sour that the next day, I’m not even sure I want to go out and explore Paris. Part of me wants to lie on my bed with my headphones in all day. Is the song I want to listen to on repeat one of Austin’s?
No comment.
But I go out anyway because Rose and Kelly persuade me to. We’re sitting in the Louvre courtyard to rest our feet when my phone buzzes.
Gemma
You really shouldn’t hunch when you sit.
I frown and reread her text.
Mia
Wrong thread.
Gemma
You’ll get wrinkles if you make that face too much.
“What in the world?”
I start typing out a text, but another comes through.
Gemma
Are you going to say hi to me or stare at your phone all day? Look up.
I whip my head up, and fifteen feet away, my sister Gemma watches me with a huge, mischievous smile on her face.Standing next to her are a few unfamiliar faces… and a very familiar face: Austin’s.
My jaw goes slack as I push myself to stand. Gemma runs over and throws her arms around me. “Surprise! Also, Austin has my full approval, FYI,” Gemma whispers into my ear.
I blink, too shocked to register what she said. “How…when…?”
