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The black curtain slides open. Tucker emerges, striking a pose in bright pink swim trunks with palm trees on it.
“What do you think of these board shorts? Too flashy?”
I cover a giggle as I stand. “Do a twirl for me,” I say, spinning my finger in a circle. Tucker is… beautiful. Lean, sculpted body. Ripples of muscles covering his stomach. Thick thighs like a soccer player.
“Well?”
“I think it’s perfect. The color brings out your tan and makes your eyes pop. You should get it. For sure.” I smile at him.
He grins. “That's good, because they have a matching one for you.” He points to the sales lady as she holds up a matching bikini.
I sigh, walking to grab the suit from her.
That’s how I find myself posing with Tucker next to me as the sales lady points his phone in our direction, snapping one hundred and twenty-seven photos.
Tucker looks at his phone, typing something with a mischievous grin. That is never good. Tucker is fun but he likes to start shit. My phone pings and I sigh, looking at Tucker with an arched brow.
Lexington’s competition.
“Seriously? Why are you like this?”
He ignores me, choosing instead to say, “Go get dressed. My black card needs a little unprotected slide action, and this is only the first store.”
“Anyone ever told you your analogies are weird?”
He thinks for a moment, looking to the ceiling for answers. “No, most people just say, ‘okay, Daddy.’”
I smack his arm while turning to go to my dressing room.
* * *
Lights flash as people scream at us from every angle around the bodyguards Tucker brought. I thought he was crazy to think we needed them, but now I know how wrong I was.
“Tucker! Tucker!” That’s the thing, Tucker attracts all genders and ages. I get the appeal, even if he isn’t my type.
“Rayne!” I turn to smile when a bouquet of flowers smacks me in the face, knocking my hair back as my equilibrium goes off-kilter.
“Ow.” I moan as I hold the bouquet to my chest.
Tucker laughs. “You going to open the card?” He wiggles his brows.
I scrunch up my nose. “Should I open the card from someone who just assaulted my face with flowers?”
“It’s from your fan. And take this from me, fans make or break you. They are your everything and you are nothing without them. So, yes, accept the love from them even if it is an assault to the face from flowers.”
I take his words to heart, knowing he is right. My fans are going to be my everything and the sooner I realize that, the easier my life will be. Imagine never having anyone care about what you did growing up and now thousands of people you don’t even know care about your every move.
* * *
Shopping bags litter my floor as I walk over to an empty vase.I put the flowers in it, pluck the red envelope up from my nightstand, and open it. A single white card stock falls to the floor, and I pick it up.
When you start to question everything around you, text me.
A number is listed under the message. My spine straightens as fear crawls along it, embedding itself in my mind and taking hold of me.
The message is so cryptic. No explanation.
My trembling hands slowly put the card back into the envelope and I smile. Not because I’ve finally cracked but because I don’t want these cameras to see there might be something off here. I pull out a floral box that I keep things I treasure in and slide the card into the box. My smile drops once I get on the floor to slide it back under the bed.
