so that no one would overhear. He squeezed my hand back - but then he released me. "Go on and get changed. I'll be right here."
I nodded. I would have rather kept on holding his hand. I would have rather disappeared with him somewhere dark and quiet. But work wasn't over, I wasn't done having cameras pointed in my face, and I wouldn't be done until after the after-party.
But I'd faced the worst. I'd faced Camden. The rest would be easy after that.
The night was as hectic as expected. I'd changed back into my ballgown after the performance - it was the whole version of the torn-up dress I'd worn onstage. A pretty good idea on my art department's part - maybe I'd send them a note later.
I’d rushed to my seat and barely had time to sit for even a minute before the presenters announced the Best Music Video of the Year award.
“Zenaida! Get back up on this stage, lady!” I didn’t recognize the presenter. I thought he must have been some up-and-coming actor or an internet star or something.
“Oh, gosh, thank you so much!” I gushed, accepting the golden statue - a star in a frame that I guessed was supposed to symbolize a computer monitor. “I’m so glad y’all liked my video!” I said from behind the little podium.
The win wasn’t entirely unexpected, so I did have a short speech prepared. I ran down my list of names, “I’d like to thank my manager, my family back home in Philly - hi mom!” I waved at the camera. “And of course my lovely, wonderful, beautiful fans, each and every one of you!” The audience clapped and cheered politely. There weren’t any real fans in the house, there were only music industry and movie folk. Sort of made it less fun if you asked me, but I didn’t plan the thing.
I hugged the award to my chest when I sat back down. This is why I do this. The music, making people happy. Sometimes I needed to remind myself. It was too easy to get all wrapped up in the bullshit of the business.
After that, I counted down the hours. Half an hour on the red carpet, two more interviews, one more interview, half and hour of meet-and-greets, one more drink, one more ass-kiss for the record label execs, and then...
Blessedly, finally, I was back in my hotel suite, kicking off my heels and tearing off the dress. Gavin, Lexi, a handful of the dancers, and Pauline crowded in after me as if I'd invited them in. Pauline had a bottle of champagne in each hand, and Gavin was rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for glasses.
Vaughn and Bryan were in the suite, too, but they were still on duty. No partying for them.
Not that I particularly wanted to party with these people, I'd seen enough of them all day. "Don't you guys have any friends?" I asked, exasperated. I took a glass of champagne from Pauline, anyway.
"Who needs friends when we have you?" Lexi said, grinning broadly. She flipped on the stereo and spun around with the music - Trakka's new album, of all things.
"I heard that Camden found you backstage," Pauline said, suddenly serious. "He wasn't supposed to be there. One of the security guys stupidly let him by just because he flashed a pass. Wasn't paying attention. I'll find out who it was."
"Don't worry about it," I said. Pauline's eyes nearly bugged from her skull, and the rest of the room fell silent.
"Don't worry about it?" she repeated. "Who are you and what have you done with Zenaida?"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. Let's just say I appreciated the chance to finally tell him off."
"I thought you never wanted to see him again!"
"I didn't and I don't. Can we just leave it alone?" I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it with them. I threw back my champagne and swallowed it all in one gulp. "Drink faster. I want to kick you out so I can go to sleep." But not until I flip through Lexi's clipboard and sneak a peek at the room assignments .
They weren't too thrilled to be rushed out the
I nodded. I would have rather kept on holding his hand. I would have rather disappeared with him somewhere dark and quiet. But work wasn't over, I wasn't done having cameras pointed in my face, and I wouldn't be done until after the after-party.
But I'd faced the worst. I'd faced Camden. The rest would be easy after that.
The night was as hectic as expected. I'd changed back into my ballgown after the performance - it was the whole version of the torn-up dress I'd worn onstage. A pretty good idea on my art department's part - maybe I'd send them a note later.
I’d rushed to my seat and barely had time to sit for even a minute before the presenters announced the Best Music Video of the Year award.
“Zenaida! Get back up on this stage, lady!” I didn’t recognize the presenter. I thought he must have been some up-and-coming actor or an internet star or something.
“Oh, gosh, thank you so much!” I gushed, accepting the golden statue - a star in a frame that I guessed was supposed to symbolize a computer monitor. “I’m so glad y’all liked my video!” I said from behind the little podium.
The win wasn’t entirely unexpected, so I did have a short speech prepared. I ran down my list of names, “I’d like to thank my manager, my family back home in Philly - hi mom!” I waved at the camera. “And of course my lovely, wonderful, beautiful fans, each and every one of you!” The audience clapped and cheered politely. There weren’t any real fans in the house, there were only music industry and movie folk. Sort of made it less fun if you asked me, but I didn’t plan the thing.
I hugged the award to my chest when I sat back down. This is why I do this. The music, making people happy. Sometimes I needed to remind myself. It was too easy to get all wrapped up in the bullshit of the business.
After that, I counted down the hours. Half an hour on the red carpet, two more interviews, one more interview, half and hour of meet-and-greets, one more drink, one more ass-kiss for the record label execs, and then...
Blessedly, finally, I was back in my hotel suite, kicking off my heels and tearing off the dress. Gavin, Lexi, a handful of the dancers, and Pauline crowded in after me as if I'd invited them in. Pauline had a bottle of champagne in each hand, and Gavin was rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for glasses.
Vaughn and Bryan were in the suite, too, but they were still on duty. No partying for them.
Not that I particularly wanted to party with these people, I'd seen enough of them all day. "Don't you guys have any friends?" I asked, exasperated. I took a glass of champagne from Pauline, anyway.
"Who needs friends when we have you?" Lexi said, grinning broadly. She flipped on the stereo and spun around with the music - Trakka's new album, of all things.
"I heard that Camden found you backstage," Pauline said, suddenly serious. "He wasn't supposed to be there. One of the security guys stupidly let him by just because he flashed a pass. Wasn't paying attention. I'll find out who it was."
"Don't worry about it," I said. Pauline's eyes nearly bugged from her skull, and the rest of the room fell silent.
"Don't worry about it?" she repeated. "Who are you and what have you done with Zenaida?"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. Let's just say I appreciated the chance to finally tell him off."
"I thought you never wanted to see him again!"
"I didn't and I don't. Can we just leave it alone?" I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it with them. I threw back my champagne and swallowed it all in one gulp. "Drink faster. I want to kick you out so I can go to sleep." But not until I flip through Lexi's clipboard and sneak a peek at the room assignments .
They weren't too thrilled to be rushed out the
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