Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Cooper’s song doesn’t count,” Ruby says, reading my mind. “That was a diss track. I meant nobody’s ever written a love song about me. Yours was a first, baby. A beautiful first, and I can’t deny I’d be elated for the world to hear it.”
“What I wrote is outdated. The song I’d write for you now would be nothing like that. I was tortured when I wrote it.”
“I know. It was delicious.” When I look unsure, she adds, “Most songs become outdated after they’re written. Sometimes right away, because the very act of putting one’s feelings into the world makes them obsolete. That doesn’t make the song any less worthy of being put out into the world, does it?”
She makes another valid point. “So, you’re saying you want the world to know how badly I wanted you, huh? That’s what this boils down to, right?”
Ruby bites back a smile. “Is that bad of me? Am I a monster, once again?”
I laugh and hug her. “No, not at all. It’s pretty hot that’s what you want, honestly.” I kiss her forehead. “Bonus points, some of my lyrics could be interpreted as a reference to Cooper, which is exactly what the label wants and what the world will be expecting from us, so it would be a smart move, from a business standpoint.”
“Good point. I didn’t think of that, but the lyrics hint at him just enough to make the internet go feral over dissecting them.” Ruby smirks. “And you know what happens when people go feral over dissecting lyrics, don’t you?”
I wink. “The song becomes a smash hit, baby.”
“Amen to that.”
We high-five and laugh.
“Okay, cutie. Your wish is my command. Let’s do it.”
Ruby squeals and thanks me.
“The only problem is, I didn’t bring my journal with me today, and I don’t have any of that stuff memorized.”
“I do. Every word.”
I smile. “Of course you do.”
Ruby snickers. “Not that it matters, since I also took photos of those two pages.”
“Ruby!”
“Not to do anything bad with them. Only because I love your words so much, I wanted to be able to read them, again and again, anytime.”
“Why do you need to read them, if you’ve got them memorized?”
Ruby tilts her head up for a kiss. “Your frenzied handwriting is a huge turn-on for me.”
Laughing, I lean down and kiss her. “How are you so cute? It’s like a superpower.” I exhale. “Okay, come back inside, baby, so you can tell everyone about ‘Spark’ and then text them the photos.”
I turn around and bend down, and without needing to be told what I’m intending, Ruby hops aboard my back with a whoop, even though the ride back into the house will be extremely short. With one hand around my neck and the other swirling in the air like a cowgirl, Ruby bellows, “Come on, baby! Let’s spin your gorgeous words into a goddamned hit song!”
34
RUBY
“Who will take home the crown tonight?” Sunshine Vaughn booms into the camera in front of her. “Will it be Chase or Roe? That’s what we’re here to find out!”
We’re almost midway through the live taping of the bloated finale episode, and Sunshine hasn’t stopped shamelessly stretching things out between every chat segment and musical performance.
True to form, Sunshine adds, “But first, let’s watch this video about the long and winding road our two talented finalists have traveled to become the last contestants standing.”
The lights in the studio dim, and the video begins on the greenroom monitor we’re all watching on, at which point, all of us exchange eyerolls.
All members of Fugitive Summer are sitting in here in this greenroom, other than Savage. Our swaggy front man is currently awaiting his imminent performance with his wife in the wings somewhere, while the rest of us were told to wait here for our cue to perform “Spark,” later in show, immediately after Cooper’s band performs “Don’t Call Me.”
Where is Cooper now? I have no idea. After our initial chat segment with Sunshine to kick off the show, he was ushered away in the opposite direction from Kendrick and me, and I haven’t seen him since.
“Excuse me,” Kendrick says to a PA standing by the door of the greenroom. “Savage and Laila are performing next, right?”
The PA nods. “Right after this video ends.”
Kendrick flashes me a pointed look. One that says, “Let’s make a break for it, baby,” and I nod to convey my readiness to execute our plan. Yes, we’re supposed to stay here to await our band’s performance, but Kendrick and I both feel too excited about what Savage and Laila are about to do to witness it on a teeny monitor in a greenroom. Instead, we both want to witness our best friends making their once-in-a-lifetime announcement, live and in the flesh, from the wings.
“Excuse me again,” Kendrick says to the same PA. “Could you please find me some Tums or something like that? My stomach feels a bit funny. Nerves, I guess.”