“Nothing.” She pushes her body closer to mine and covertly jabs her elbow into me. The pain causes my eyes to pop wide open. I barely close them at all during the multitude of uncomfortable poses we’re arranged into after that, as if blinking would permanently seal my eyes shut. Forty-five minutes later, after my entire face and body have started to ache, the photo shoot is over and they set us free.
When I glance over to the side of the studio, I’m flooded with relief to find Dad and Cass standing there watching us. I’ve been in some sort of interview or photo shoot all day, and even though I knew Dad was always nearby, being able to see him makes me feel safe. I’ll never admit that to him in conversation, but it’s true. Most people want their moms when they’re scared. I want my dad.
Dad’s brown eyes sparkle with mischief. “Is this Raven or Mads I’m talkin’ to?”
I throw a playful punch into his arm. “Jerk. You should know the difference after seventeen years.”
“You look very pretty, Mads,” Cass assures me. Her sweet smile isn’t quite stretching to her eyes. She looks concerned, and in my head I can almost hear her asking me, “Where did you go?” I swear sometimes she knows me better than Dad does.
“Thanks, Cass.” I give her a helpless smirk.
“You ready for the next stop?” Dad asks.
“Yeah, just let me get my things.” I grab my clutch and a water bottle from a nearby table, and after Raven joins us, I follow them out to the limo Jess sent for us.
When we’ve been on the road for about five minutes, I feel a vibration in my clutch and open it to look at a text on my phone.
Ana: Miss you. Hope the tour is going well. I hate that I can’t come up there and support you!
Her usual barrage of broken heart and crying emojis follows that text. I send a quick text back.
Me: Miss you too. It’s going okay. We’ll visit real soon. Hang in there, love.
Ana: Love you!
Me: Love you too!
Tears sting my already raw and bloodshot eyes as I lock the phone and slide it back into my clutch. Trying to keep afloat in a world like this without my other half just makes it even harder. Earlier this summer, Ana kept me sane, and now I’m lucky to get five minutes a day to talk to her.
“You okay, sweetie?” Cass asks with a sympathetic smile.
I clear my throat briskly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just missing Ana, that’s all.”
“We’ll go back to Lawrenceburg to see her real soon. Promise,” Dad says. I nod and turn to look out the window, choosing to focus on the new, exciting sights around me instead of the crushing loneliness.
Chapter 2
August 2, 2015
Tiring Two Days
I never imagined this press tour would be so exhausting. I thought I was going to be sitting down doing nothing most of the time. Instead, I’ve been pinched, probed, preened, and primped until all I want to do is bat everybody’s hands away from me and scream at them to leave me alone. Being a simple Southern girl at heart, I wouldn’t mind showing up to these interviews in jeans and a t-shirt with my hair in a messy bun. That doesn’t pass in NYC. I have to look like some kind of pop princess twenty-four-seven to please these people.
I guess I shouldn’t be complaining…after all, the free doughnuts and coffee and basically whatever else my little heart desires are nice. However, for a girl who likes her personal space, all the free food in the world won’t make up for the fact that I was touched by nearly fifty people I don’t know today. And according to Raven, this was a good day. I don’t like being touched by people I don’t know. I’m not used to it, especially since I’ve never gone to school. It feels suffocating being hovered over by strangers.
I am done…so done. Right now I’m lying down on the bed in sweats and an old-ass t-shirt I slipped into my luggage. This is my happy place: writing, blasting music in my earbuds, and not feeling a single pinch or squeeze. The best moment of any girl’s day is always taking off her bra in her own room, but that has never felt as good as it does now. Undergarments have become the least of my worries.
Just a few days left in this damn press tour. I think I’m finally starting to understand Dad’s mortal hatred of interviews and the media.
Ttyl,
Mads
***
The next morning, Raven and I sit side by side on a white minimalist couch to be interviewed by Spill! Magazine. My heart has risen into my throat and it’s pounding like the pendulum in an old-fashioned clock. This is one of the top entertainment news magazines in the nation. Everyone looks to Spill! for the “true” story on celebrities. Whatever they say about Raven and me is about to become America’s opinion.
The interviewer, a fiery redhead in a pencil skirt and silky sapphire blue top, holds a voice recorder in her hand and a printed list of questions. She starts with brief introductions, and then she plunges right in to our interrogation.
“So tell us about this bond you two have. You’re obviously very close. How did it happen after being apart for so many years?”
I glance at Raven, who nods and addresses the interviewer for us.
“Well, I would have to say it originated in the womb. There’s an inherent connection between me and the girl who shares my DNA. When I first touched Madison’s hand, I immediately felt the link. It’s a bond that transcends time and space.”
I gape at her in shock. That was such an honest, eloquent answer I don’t know what to do with it. She smiles at me, like, Confirm this, please.
“It’s true. I felt it too,” I add. Raven slips her arm through the crook of my elbow.
“Have you had any disagreements yet, or are you always in sync?” the interviewer asks.
Raven’s low chuckle is ever so slightly sinister. “We have our differences, for sure, but so far we haven’t fought.”
“Well, that’s good to hear!” The interviewer plasters a false grin on her face, but I can read in her eyes she was looking for more juice than that. I swallow against the tightness in my throat. I have a sinking feeling this is going to get ugly.
She asks a few more random questions about adjusting to life as twins, and then she addresses me personally.
“Madison, we have a question for you. This summer, you were seen with Giovanni Abate, who referred to you as his ‘crush.’ What happened?”
Pain burns in my chest. I’ve done so well lately at pushing Gio from my mind, and now he’s front and center in front of someone who is likely committing my every facial expression to memory.
Raven jumps in for me again after five seconds with no response. “She broke up with him as soon as she found out I was her sister and he cheated on me.”
“Is that true, Madison?” the interviewer asks.
I clear my throat. “Yes, that’s exactly how it happened. Family ties always come first for me.”
“How did you deal with the fact that the two of you went out with the same guy?” she presses.
“Um…” I glance over at Raven, and she nods to me encouragingly. “As soon as I broke up with him, we just sort of put it behind us. It really wasn’t a big deal.”
“You didn’t fight over him or anything?”
“No. Not at all.”
“So did the relationship mean anything to you, or was it just a summer fling?”
My eyes pop wide open. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? Raven’s sitting right here, and if I say, “he meant something to me,” she’s going to be all over me after this interview. I literally have no choice but to lie. I turn my attention back to the interviewer, feeling exposed and dumbfounded. Who even asks questions like that?
“We were just having fun. We never put a label on it.”
“Ah, I see.”
Throughout the rest of the interview, amidst questions about fashion choices and favorite colors, I’m seething with anger. Raven didn’t get probed at this interview, so why should I? It’s almost like they were trying to set us up to fight. Luckily, they didn’t get th
eir wish, and Raven and I don’t plan on letting that happen at all.
***
After the interview, I head back to the hotel room with plans to shut out the rest of the world for the next sixteen hours. I’ve already settled into bed in nothing but athletic shorts and a spaghetti strap tank with a built-in bra when Raven texts me.
Raven: I need you downtown. My New York friends want to meet you.
Her demanding text ends with a random street address. My eyebrow pulls up of its own accord. She “needs me downtown”? She thinks she can just order me to go where she wants me when she wants me?
Me: What’s in it for me?
Raven: Liquor. Boys. Dancing. Music. Did I mention boys?
I half-grin in amusement. She makes a good case. I guess she’s taking me to a party or a club.
Me: Very well. Dress code?
Raven: Mini-dress and stilettos. We don’t have to match for this, but if you can manage a side-pony we can keep up the twin vibe.
Me: Will do. Be there ASAP.
I glance around at my plush, warm, inviting bed and groan. I love going clubbing, but truth be told, I enjoy staying home and watching TV a lot more than the wildness of a club. Especially now that I spend all day with people, I’m finding I’m more of a homebody than I ever suspected.
However, sexy club boys would help me get my mind off of Gio. Yes, please.
After getting dressed and primping a satisfactory amount, I call our driver and ride for half an hour into the hub of Manhattan. As I gaze out the tinted window at my surroundings, the contrast of the blaring electric lights against the dark night sky invigorates me. Even though I’m stuck inside a limo, I can sense the energy of the people buzzing up and down the streets. This city’s vibe is almost tangible. It sucks you in and won’t let you go. All I want to do is enjoy the opportunity to party here tonight. No politics, no media…just me in an amazing new place.
The driver parks close to the club and comes around to the door to let me out. People waiting outside in line murmur at the sight of me. I blush a little as I move to join the VIP line with Raven and her friends. The line’s pretty long, but I’m about to cut in front of all these people just because of who I am. I never thought I’d be seen as the spoiled rich girl, but here I am killing it.
On my way to join the line, I make abrupt contact with an extremely solid chest. I startle and sway atop my sky-high black stilettos and a strong arm with a green dragon tattoo on it catches me. The young guy I just slammed into so ungracefully chuckles as he rights me.
“I am so sorry, Miss, I didn’t—” He gasps when he pulls back to examine me. I feel almost as startled when I look up into a pair of gorgeous green eyes that match his tattoo. This guy is what some girls would call a stud. I call him a delicious piece of eye candy. His cheekbones are high and defined and he has a jaw that could have easily been sculpted by Michelangelo. He’s like my ideal guy come to life.
He rakes his hand through his chocolate brown hair and stammers, “Are…are you Madison Daley?”
My stomach jumps. I don’t know if I should feel flattered or scared that he recognized me so easily.
“Yeah, that’s me.” I make an awkward hand gesture directed toward myself and chuckle nervously.
His mouth bursts into a grin and he echoes my breathy laughter. “Holy shit! I’m so sorry I ran into you…but at the same time I’m not sorry. You’re just as gorgeous in person.”
“Thanks!” I smile so wide it makes my cheeks hurt. “I’m sorry, it was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Believe me, you can bump into me anytime. I’m…kind of a fan,” he says with a chuckle.
“Really?” I squeak.
“Yeah. You’re amazing. I love watching your interviews.”
“Wow…thanks. I haven’t really done anything amazing yet, but thanks.”
“Are you kidding? Organizing that reunion made you everybody’s hero. W3 needed to come back together. The fans love you for it.”
I’m sure my face is beet red, but luckily the lighting is so dim out here he probably doesn’t notice. “It was nothing.”
Still unable to wipe the grin off his face, he stares at me as if to convince himself I’m real. “What are you doing here at this dump?”
“Dump?” I glance around him and peer into the open doorway, which is alive with lights and music. “It doesn’t look like a dump to me.”
“Well, I guess that opinion results from me working here. I’m a bartender,” he explains.
Meeting his eyes, I feel my cheeks heat again. “You’re too hot to be a bartender,” I blurt out.
He giggles like a schoolboy with a crush on his professor. “Thanks. I don’t deserve that compliment, but thanks.”
“You do deserve it. What’s your name?”
“Oh, how rude of me.” His right bicep bulges as he stretches out his arm to shake my hand. “I’m—”
“Madison!” Raven glares at me from her place in line. “Are you going to spend all night chatting up strangers on the street, or are you going to join our group?”
I chomp down on my lower lip and shoot my mystery guy an apologetic look. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be, I understand.” His incredible eyes narrow as he smiles. “Have a great night, Madison Daley. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Before I can stop him to ask him his name, he takes off down the street, looking back over his shoulder at me to wave. I wave back and watch him retreat, wishing I had an excuse to run into that wonderful chest again.
I sigh regretfully and shove by club patrons to join Raven and her comrades in line. Without even listening to her forced greeting or introductions, I robotically mutter my how-do-you-dos and keep my mind trained on the guy I just crashed into and lost all in the same moment. I don’t believe in love at first sight, but vibes at first sight are totally a thing. Mr. Dragon Tattoo and I were vibing hard for each other. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again. Probably not…a meeting like that can only happen once in a lifetime.
After all, I just met my first fan.
Chapter 3
August 3, 2015
I Hate Spill! Magazine
So it turns out I definitely should have told the interviewer from Spill! Magazine that Gio meant something to me. My denial of depth gave her the fuel she needed to paint me as a loose party girl. She somehow dug up pictures of me at a club and referred to me as Raven’s “wild” sister.
What the hell?
If anyone’s wild around here, it’s definitely Raven, not me. We went to a club together last night and she was grinding up against every eligible guy there. She supposedly has a boyfriend, although she won’t tell anybody who it is, but I doubt that’s going to last long at this rate. I guess they want to keep things on the down low because of the press since she isn’t telling anyone his name.
I don’t mind going to clubs with Raven—which is apparently going to happen a lot—but I do mind being painted as a party girl all the time. It’s just not who I am. I would like to have a real relationship one day, and when I do, I don’t want to have to work extra hard to win a guy’s trust because he thinks I’m a huge whore. Between the pool pictures and Gio and now this, I kind of want to swear off the media altogether, but of course I can’t. Now that I’ve stepped into the spotlight, I’m locked in for life.
It seems a conflict has begun: Raven and me vs. the media. Raven’s a powerhouse—she knows how to wrap these people around her little finger, but me? I could be the downfall of this whole operation.
I was not prepared to talk about Gio. I’ve been shoving that pain so far down I had almost forgotten it was there. Now I’m aching again over a guy who never saw me as anything more than a crush or someone to fool around with. That’s the real reason I broke up with him. I thought it was because of Raven at the time, but the truth is I was hurt because he called me his “crush” on the red carpet instead of something more committal.
Giovanni Abate cou
ld have any girl he wants. He probably has hundreds of crushes. He told everyone I was there on the red carpet because of a bet, not because we had been making out all summer and talking about our lives and shared love of video games. I thought I meant something to him, but that’s obviously not the case, so I think I was right to call it a summer fling. That’s what it was to him, after all.
Fuck what the rest of the world thinks. I am on this press tour for one reason only. I was promised by Jess she’d come forward with the truth and get rid of the Basket Baby label for good, and so far she’s stayed true to her word. If I can just make it through the rest of this week and the London trip without incident, I think everything will turn out all right.
Time to get out of bed and face another long day of interviews. Fingers crossed I don’t screw anything else up. We’re starting the day with brunch with Jess and Raven. I’m not sure if I’m more nervous for that or the interviews.
Ttyl,
Mads
***
The fine dining establishment Jess selected for brunch is beyond my wildest dreams. As we pass by table after table, my mouth waters with the sights and smells of what we’re about to be served. Fresh fruit, omelets, muffins…it’s almost too much to handle when you wait until ten-thirty a.m. to eat and then you have to be tortured by all this food while you wait.
Dad and I automatically pull out chairs next to each other when the dressed-to-the-nines waiter brings us to a table, but then Jess holds up a hand to stop us.
“I thought perhaps I could sit alone with Madison today if that’s all right with you, Michael. You and Cassidy can take this time to get to know Raven.”
I glance over at Dad, who swallows and shrugs, giving me the reins of this decision. Heart racing, I clear my throat. “I dunno—”
The Sister Code (D.O.R.K Book 2) Page 2