Love in the Mix (Love in the Mix #1)

Chapter 1

one

RUBY

" T oday's the day, I can feel it," Luna says excitedly, her voice instantly grating on my nerves. "I have the song in my hands that will launch our careers. I can feel the million streams in my blood." She bounces around in a chair that's too small for her oversized body, her enthusiasm making me nauseous.

"You don't know that," I say, rolling my eyes, the knot in my gut tightening. The anxiety in my belly almost has me regretting my choices, but I quickly push those thoughts aside. I deserve this, not her.

Luna has been my constant shadow since high school, always there, always clinging to me like a leech, a constant reminder of everything I’m not. Here we are, holed up in her pathetic little apartment in New York City, creating music "together." For years, I've been pretending to care about her music, forcing myself to fake interest in every little high hat or bass note she endlessly goes on and on about.

Watching her work a club once made me realize she had everything I could ever want. A bustling career, traveling every week to exotic and party centric locations, partying her life away. I wanted that for myself—the praise, the worship from the crowd. I deserve it, not her. I've spent years chasing fame, clawing my way to the top. I once had the world at my feet, people wanting to be near me, or even better, be me.

But it was never enough. Not for my parents. I can still hear their voices, dripping with disappointment. "Ruby, you're pretty, but that will only get you so far," my mother would say, her eyes cold and dismissive. My father would chime in. "You need to apply yourself, like Luna. Now there's a girl with a future."

Luna. Always Luna. The perfect daughter they never had. Smart, hardworking, determined. Everything I apparently wasn't. It didn't matter how many modeling contracts I landed or how many movies I starred in. In their eyes, I was just a pretty face, destined to fade into obscurity and marry rich.

I thought my looks would be enough to secure me a spotlight forever. But I was wrong. The entertainment industry is fickle, and always looking for the next big thing. I slept my way through directors, producers, and even their assistants, trading my body for promises of fame and fortune. I had endless modeling contracts and movies that were meant to launch my career.

Then the whispers started. “Difficult.” “A true diva” printed and exploited on every magazine cover. As if they had any right to judge me. I did what I had to do to get myself there. The least they could do is listen and do exactly what I ask when I say to do it. It’s not my fault most people are idiots and can’t perform minor tasks.

Then the damage was done. The roles dried up, and suddenly, the once-great Ruby Knight was nothing more than a washed-up has-been. I was just another short tale, another cliché of the Hollywood dream turned into a nightmare.

Like clockwork, she was there. Luna, the perfect best friend, ready to swoop in to save me. She’d look at me with these pitying eyes, and offer me a hand like I was some kind of charity case. It makes me sick to think of actually needing her help. I don’t need handouts from a second-rate wannabe who’s more muffin top than talent.

Yet, when I saw her career take off, I swallowed my pride and begged her to teach me, to share her secrets. She had this talent for blending music, creating sounds that get people moving. It made me sick to watch her succeed so effortlessly.

Just the thought of her success makes me imagine pushing her off the DJ platform and watching her hit her head on the way down. She doesn’t deserve any of it. The adoration, the obsession, even my own parents' love. It should all be mine. She's nothing, nobody. So why does the world keep choosing her over me?

She may have the talent, but I have the looks. Yet, here I am, with a pathetic following compared to the thousands she gains daily. It’s laughable, really. Let's face it, she's no great beauty, with her garish green hair, curves in all the wrong places, and a round, chubby face that screams, "I love cake," it's a mystery how anyone could find her attractive.

Still, I've watched her turn down some of the most attractive men and women, only to go home to fucking Dylan. It’s like she has a fetish for losers.

Dylan, for instance, was your typical nerd in high school. Thick framed black glasses, long stringy blond hair, studded belts. I shiver as the memory rushes through me. Now? Now he’s more than easy on the eyes as the years have since transformed him. The baby fat face has become a man's face—rugged, sharp jaw, with even sharper cheekbones. The hours he’s poured into the gym shows. His blond curly hair is now styled perfectly, bright blue eyes standing out amongst his features. Still, he’s hardly a prize, just another stepping stone on my path forward.

Getting him into bed and eating out of the palm of my hand was child’s play. He was ready for the next new thing, a sexy, slimmer body to sink his sad excuse for a cock into. How she could stand his mouth breathing and endless rutting is beyond me. Still, she sat unaware, na?ve. Head in the clouds, dreaming of “making it big.”

“It’s not knowing,” she says, bringing me back to reality. “It's just a feeling. Tell me you’re not feeling it. Ruby, this could be it! This is what we both need to break out of the same old clubs! This is our future.”

"You're right, our future is set," I tell her with a sly smile. Yes, my future will be set, and this song is my ticket to the top.

Step one: steal the fiancé. Check.

Step two: steal the career. Currently in progress.

Nothing, not even my so-called best friend, will stand in my way. But why stop there? Why not take everything she holds dear? Her career, her man, her dreams. I want it all. And when I have it, maybe then my parents will finally see me for who I am. Maybe then they'll love me like they love her.