Page 9 of Tiebreaker

“Whoa,” I mutter, shaking the stars from my eyes, and turn to look behind me. The driver is gone and so is the car.

“Come on,” Maria hisses at me, grabbing my arm. She yanks on my wrist hard.

“What the fuck, ow, stop it,” I grumble under my breath as I tag along after her. The red carpet is plush and my platform heels sink into it. I shake myself free from her iron grip… but walking on the carpet is difficult. I’ve never done something this hard before. When it comes to walking, that is.

Mariah, with a disgusted noise, she glares at me, and then she’s dragging me again up the red carpet, as I try not to stumble like a new baby deer after her.

I'm startled when we get to the door, and the badge checker there takes one look at the two of us and then lights up when she sees me.

“Oh, I'm so glad you can make it,” she says, “Come on in. We were waiting for you. I’ll call Jenna.”

I glance at Mariah, alarmed and confused. She shrugs. Something isnotright. The red carpet. The money for clothes? She looks nervous, and when I get close there’s sweat beading up along her hairline, making her foundation slick on her skin.

“What aren’t you telling me,” I hiss at her under my breath.

“Don’t make this weird,” she says, pushing me into the building. “Or I’ll make you regret not selling your ticket.”

Inside a woman in a polished dark ponytail waits for us, a smile on her face.

“Mariah,” she says. She seems to know Mariah on sight, and it’s setting off more little alarm bells in the back of my head.

“I thought this was a fan meet and greet,” I say to the woman, glancing around. There’s nobody else here in the foyer, despite the crowd outside, and she nods.

“It is, the location got leaked, so of course…” She waves a hand at the door, referencing the girls that had been standing out on the street. “The fans are already seated, all waiting, however,you,” She gives me a a megawatt smile. “I’m glad we could get you booked in.”

Booked in…? Mariah elbows me and I straighten up with a cough. She must mean for shopping. Maybe.

Glancing down at the dress, I open my mouth,

“I mean, not that I'm ungrateful for the shopping spree. It was really nice, is he doing that for everyone?” I hold my breath. There can’t be many of us here then. I’ve never heard of a rockstar shelling out for someone to get new clothes for a fan meet…

I'm not going to tell her that I kept the receipts and I am planning on returning the dress and shoes.

I just can't afford not to. It's one thing to go to this meet and greet and turn down money from selling the ticket. But it's the second thing to turn down selling $500 worth of clothes.

That's more than half my rent.

And if I'm going to miss two weeks of work, I need the extra cash.

“Oh, didn't Mariah tell you,” she says, glancing between the two of us. She's tapping her pen on the edge of her clipboard and she bobs her head, her sleek glossy hair pulled back in that tight ponytail, waving back and forth like a blag.

“So yeah, a private,” she repeats that like it means something. “He asked for you, specifically.”

She gives me an indulgent smile.

“You don't think that we give every fan a $500 shopping budget do you?” She asks.

My lips part.

“I don't quite understand,” I say, trying to wrap my head around what’s happening.

“Where's the bathroom,” Mariah asks suddenly.

The woman, Jenna, gives her a flat smile and points down the hallway.

“That way,” she says. “You'll see it. It's lit up in pink.”

Mariah nods and walks off leaving me with Jenna, and the growing confusion in my belly.

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