Page 55 of Now Their Starlet

The twins share a pointed glance at each other, and some form of unspoken communication passes between them.

“You can tell me. Please—I know—I just... I just want to know.”

“You deserve to know,” Cleo says with a determined nod, finishing taping the phone to my stomach. It feels a little strange, but it’s far from the most uncomfortable thing I’ve had to endure. I’m just lucky they make omega-safe adhesives because our skin is far more sensitive than the average beta’s.

“We’re just... worried,” Juno murmurs, turning and lifting my dress from the top of the stall. “You have enough on your plate for the next couple of days. You don’t need to worry about our brother or the rest of your pack.”

“But...” I trail off, the words dying in my throat.

“But you’re still worried about them, right?” Cleo says, her expression softening.

“Yeah,” I nod.

Juno holds out my dress and I step into it, trying to suppress the shiver that runs down my spine at the feel of the rough fabric scratching my skin.

“They’re all so lucky to have you.” Cleo starts gently pulling the strings of the corset. Her hands are far kinder than Camille’s were when she laced me in earlier tonight. “Ever’s been... hanging in there. He’s been managing everything with the lawyers and stuff.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen him like this before,” Juno adds, reaching into the makeup storage box and pulling out supplies to help touch me up. “He puts up a good front, but I think this whole situation has been eating him up inside.”

Her honesty contrasts with Cleo’s attempt at reassurance. Their words together paint a better, fuller picture of what’s going on in my absence.

“I’m sorry,” I say automatically.

“Why’re you apologizing? Girl, you’ve got literally nothing to apologize for,” Cleo huffs.

I brace myself as she tightens the laces enough that I can feel the press of the phone against my skin.

“I don’t know if I’m worth the trouble,” I mumble.

“Everett doesn’t do anything that isn’t worth his time,” Juno says, her hand hovering above my face with a makeup sponge with a foundation tone that’s surprisingly close to the stuff I use on myself. “And he obviously thinks you’re more than worth it.”

“Oh.” I swallow hard past the lump in my throat, fighting back the burn of tears.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

I’ve been dressed and had my makeup done by plenty of people, but there’s something intimate about sharing this experience with Cleo and Juno in this bathroom stall, hiding away from anyone on Gina’s team.

“Thank you for doing this for me, you guys... You didn’t have to.”

“You say that a lot,” Juno hums, continuing to work on my makeup.

“Girl, I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since you were first pictured with Beck. I was so curious about what was going on! And then when Ever started being all cagey about you, I knew there was something more happening,” Cleo giggles. The mischievous grin she flashes me completely transforms her face.

Cleo and Juno have an elegance in their features that must be genetic, considering Everett is their older brother. But while Juno leans into it, there are flashes of bright, unbridled energy that practically explode out from Cleo.

They both have two different brands of honesty. It’s refreshing.

“Yeah,” I say, my lips quirking up automatically, faced with Cleo’s own bright smile. “It’s all... new. We didn’t really have a chance to thoroughly talk about it before... you know.”

I wave down at the torture device of a dress. At myself. At this whole situation.

“Hey, that just means his plan to get you out better work!” Cleo says. “We should totally hang out when it does.”

Something in my chest twists at the seemingly genuine offer. It’s a warm spark that blooms outwards, almost like I just took a shot of hard liquor.

I’ve never been good at making friends, but I’ve historically been especially bad at making girlfriends. Probably because I never had healthy female friendships modeled for me as a child. Gina has exactly zero.

Even the co-stars on her reality show, her fellow omegas featured in The Real Omegas of Beverly Hills aren’t really her friends, even if it appears that way on camera. I’m pretty sure they all hang out off-camera without her.