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I picked up a tiara, my inner five year old squealing with joy.
I sighed and set it back down in the box.
If I wore that and the paparazzi managed to snag a picture, I could just imagine the ridicule. I was marrying this guy to mitigate the damage by leaning into it, by trying to prove that interspecies relationships were okay. I knew I wasn’t going to convince the ones who just wanted something to be outraged about, but they weren’t the ones I was aiming at. I was aiming at the ones on the fence, the ones that would assume I was doing something wrong if I cowered and apologized.
I didn’t have anything to lose from taking a stand.
If I crumpled and curled into a ball and hid from the shitstorm that was blowing up my phone, I would have a much harder time recovering from this. Loud and proud was the way to go.
Plus, I was curious.
Curious was a heady understatement.
The way he had handled me was a full body, knee melting, heart swooning action. I’d never been treated like that by anyone, with focused, determined consideration. If that was like when he was giving - what would he be like when he was taking?
His skill with his mouth had run roughshod over my hesitation that arose when he insisted that we have a legitimate honeymoon. Being pressured was something I was very used to and utterly hated, but his reasoning was sound. Plus the fact that he wanted me enough to set a boundary of not being with me if it meant all that was off limits… it drew me in a weird sort of way.
I never thought I’d be so into being told I was too hot to just be friends.
“Are you sure you don’t want a tiara?” Caley asked. “I know you love them.”
“No, I’d look too silly,” I said, feeling that twinge of regret before turning back to the mirror.
“Maybe you should stop worrying about how other people perceive you and wear something that makes you happy,” Caley said.
I glanced back at my normally very reserved and quiet friend.
“Where did that come from?” I laughed.
She shut the tiara box with a snap and set it down on a nearby dresser.
“Why are you marrying him?” Caley said. “You were freaked out and chugging booch right after meeting him. That doesn’t seem like someone who is happy with the equation. Are you doing this so that your fans will be happy? You don’t have to go through with this if it doesn’t feel right for you. I know the computer said you’re a perfect match, but technology is there to support us in what we want to do, not tell us what to do.”
“Wow, way to go to bat as a friend,” I said, turning towards her with a smile. I put both of my hands on her shoulders. “I am lucky to have you.”
“You didn’t answer any of my questions,” Caley continued to challenge me. “You know I can just call this off for you. I have the power to kick that guy off the planet and ban him from the solar system.”
“I’m really loving this for you,” I said before pulling her into a hug. She was stiff in my arms for a moment, then she pushed me back, keeping a grip on my elbows. “Please don’t kick him out of the galaxy.”
“Solar system,” she corrected. “I don’t have authority past Pluto, you know, the last planet.”
“It’s not-”
“Don’t ever say that.” She narrowed her eyes. “It IS the last planet. Otherwise my mom can’t sit on porcupines.”
I laughed again.
“But seriously, Caley, I do want to do this,” I said.
“Not just because you want to be more famous than you already are?” she challenged.
“What is wrong with that?” I asked. “Being famous has been my main life goal, you know that. There is nothing wrong with knowing what you want out of your life, and I want people to love me.”
“I mean, we can run you through the system again and find someone else,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be him. There are other ways to get famous. I mean, soap operas aren’t like doing a blockbuster superhero film, but it is a steady career and it can get you there. You don’t need to do anything weird to get where you want to go; you can just work hard.”
“You think every famous actress got there by pulling themselves up by their bootstraps?” I asked. “Are you able to defy gravity and lift yourself up off the ground by your feet? That isn’t even possible. The vast majority of famous actors got there because mommy or daddy was in the industry and used their own contacts to get them in. Nepotism, generational wealth, all that stuff we hate others for having but desperately wish we had ourselves is the number one way. Next tactic is sex tapes and scandals. I already have the scandal part. Now I just need to turn it into an advantage.”
“Still, if he freaked you out or it doesn’t feel right, it doesn’t have to be him,” she pointed out. “You can run with the scandal and have it be a different alien.”
