Page 1 of Breakaway
CHAPTER 1
REESE
Breaking News! Anonymous pop star, Empress, known for her sensual music and dancing, had her personal information leaked on social media.
Icould scream. No, scratch that, I have screamed. Multiple times, most of which were into my pillow. I just happen to want to do it again, but I can't because I'm a twenty-nine-year-old woman who has to act like an adult right now, even if I really, really don't want to act like an adult right now.
"Are we clear on how things need to go from a PR standpoint?" Mauve, my agent, says, looking at her comm tablet instead of at me. There isn't a time when she isn't looking at that thing, not unless someone is offering her a lot of money. Even then, she'd still try to sneak peeks at the device just to make sure she hadn't missed out on something.
Her platinum hair is styled perfectly, not a single baby hair or flyaway to be seen in the short, sleek bob she's always had. There's a severity in her style that comes from always being the best-dressed in any given room, and she prides herself on that accomplishment. I can't think of a single time I've seen her even slightly disheveled. No broken nails in her immaculatemanicures, no wrinkles in any of her blouses, and definitely no unwanted lines anywhere near her face. She looks like a nightmare, but that's only because she's a woman. Give her disposition and attitude to a man, and everyone would just call him someone who gets a job done.
"The PR standpoint?" I ask even though I know she's talking about the meeting I just had to sit through. The one where all of my wishes and desires had been shot down because it's a volatile time.
"Yes, the PR standpoint, or do I need to call everyone in here again to go over the logistics with you?"
I grind my teeth together, knowing full well that Mauve will do just that if it will get her point across. There was a time, a long, long time ago, when I thought about rejecting her offer to be my representation. It would've been the biggest mistake of my life. At the time, I'd been a nineteen-year-old with stars in my eyes, and Mauve had told me she could make me rich beyond my wildest dreams. My one condition was that I remained anonymous due to the nature of what I did and the fact that I wanted to have a normal life outside of performing.
In a surprising turn of events, it was Mauve who stood up for me when others tried to push me to offer more than I was comfortable with. There was a meeting one day where a couple of other executive agents came in with their presentations and slideshows and graphs. They got about two minutes into it before Mauve shut them down and told them in no uncertain terms that if they tried to pull that again, she would take herself to another company and drag all of her clients with her. She did, in fact, make that threat a reality six years ago, and even started her own agency because of it.
Since the first time she stood up for me, I've known there's no one else out there who can do for me what Mauve does. And she does it so well that it's become easy to look over her little quirks.Now, though? After all the nonsense I've been put through? I think I deserve a little more than her refusal to even look in my general direction when telling me to basically suck it up and deal with it.
"I'm not doing a press tour," I tell her, attempting once again to shut down this terrible plan. "I was going to retire. I was a week away from announcing that I was done for good. Why am I all of a sudden going on a press tour?"
"If you had been paying attention during the meeting, you would know you're going on the press tour to show everyone that you are unaffected by the leaks."
"I am fucking affected. Greatly! I haven't slept through the night since it happened, Mauve. I can't do this."
I hate breaking down in front of anyone, most of all Mauve, because I'm almost positive she has no emotions for anything other than money. She's a human, so it's not even like this is some cultural difference between us. At least if that were the case, I wouldn't go home and search up symptoms of sociopathy when she's been especially cold. I don't even know if she knows how interacting with her feels sometimes, since she's been like this since I've known her.
"Reese, I say this as someone who loves you."
I choke on air, but it doesn't seem to even register to Mauve. I've not heard those words strung together in that way in the ten years she's been my agent.
"You need to stop stressing out over things you can't control. Your personal information was leaked. We knew it was a possibility when we started this whole thing, and honestly, I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner. The only thing we can do is mitigate the damage."
"No, we can most certainly also not do any of this. I wanted to be done."
"And you will be," Mauve tells me, her brows pinching together as she looks up at me for the first time all day.
Her eyes are as icy as her personality, but then again, that's just who Mauve is. She's had to be brutal and cutthroat to get where she is in the music industry, especially now that there are other planets with their own artists who are all vying to be the next hottest thing. The fact that I remained in the charts for the last seven years of my almost ten years performing is a testament to both of our hard work. A lot of it was Mauve in the background, making me deals for collaborations with other artists, socializing on my behalf with people, and building those relationships to keep me relevant. She's a bitch, but she's always been a bitch in my corner. It's always felt that way until now.
"Your contract is until the end of the year. Before all of this happened, I was willing to release you early. Now that there's controversy, I don't think it would be appropriate for the contract to be absolved at this time."
"You're fucking kidding me," I mutter more to myself than to Mauve, who is back to flicking through social feeds on her comm.
I shake my head, swallowing down the lump in my throat. I'm definitely about to go home to scream and cry and eat just like my entire weight in ice cream. Because I know there's no changing Mauve's mind when she's determined for something to happen, and knowing that she has never once done something to purposefully make my life harder, I take a deep breath and just accept that this is about to happen.
"Your new security will be meeting you in the lobby. I've vetted each of them. I know you requested not to have anyone in your apartment, but I still think it would be prudent for your security to have someone there."
I'm surprised Mauve listened to that request of mine. It gives me some hope that there's some part of her frozen heart that has a little bit of warmth.
"I feel like all of me has already been flayed and left bare. I'd like to keep something all to myself."
Mauve's lips press harder together, and I don't know if it's because of me or whatever she just took a screenshot of. She scrolls a little more, and I'm about to leave, thinking our conversation is over, but she sets the comm flat on the table, giving me attention for the second time today. Now I know something serious is going on.
"When you change your mind, send me a message," Mauve says it as though she knows I'm going to take her up on the offer. Still, maybe she's realized she's forced too much on me for one day. She's not telling me this is how things are going to be. No, she's letting me have some control over all of this, even if it feels like all of my control has been stripped away. "I have a plan, but I don't think you're in the right headspace for it just yet. I don't want to cause you any undue stress."
"Mauve," I start, but she holds up her ring-covered hand, her bracelets clinking against one another as they slide down her thin forearm.
