Strike a Pose (Blame It on Fame #1)

39. Willow

Chapter 39

Willow

W e all hang out backstage for another thirty minutes or so before the stage crew pops in to lead Heena and me to our seats. Although Riley isn’t supposed to come out for another ten minutes or so, the screaming is so loud by the time Heena and I take our seats that I look toward the empty stage anyway. Then I notice our faces on the jumbotron. They’re cheering for us .

Heena, ever the professional, gives a sultry smile and wave, somehow making the crowd cheer even louder. I smile and wave beside her. I don’t even care that I hear a few boos mixed in with the cheers. Riley’s words last night really resonated with me—I need to stop caring what strangers think of me. I should only care about the opinions of my friends and family. And speaking of my friends and family, they all seem to be doing well. Mom is doing okay, Aspen was cast in a prestigious film, and Riley’s about to perform for thousands of screaming fans, including me. I’m in a great mood.

“Give the people a wave, guys,” Heena teases our guards, who can be seen behind us on screen. Tito’s jovial smile is gone, replaced with an impassi ve expression that means he’s purely in work mode right now.

“Come on, Tito, I know you’re as excited for this show as I am. At least give us a smile,” I prod him, poking his arm.

Heena giggles beside me. “As excited as you are? I highly doubt he is, Will.”

His mouth twitches into a minuscule smile before disappearing back into a stony stare.

“Alright, I guess I’ll count that,” I tell Tito. “And I don’t know what you mean,” I direct at Heena, hardly able to suppress my smile.

“Oh please, as if he didn’t keep you up all night with his?—”

“Heena!” I cut her off. “Lip readers are going to be all over that. We’re still on the screen.”

“They’re too obsessed with us for their own good.” She chuckles before covering her mouth to obscure her words from the screen. “With his monster cock .”

Cole and Tito’s eyes widen slightly, betraying their eavesdropping.

Luckily, I’m saved from having to reply by the dimming of the lights. The crowd quiets as the opening act comes out, a guy who looks to be in his early twenties. Then their cameras start flashing, at least half of them pointed at Heena and me instead of at the stage. I feel bad for stealing the poor kid’s thunder, but what can we do? It’s not like we’re doing anything to catch their attention. We’re literally just standing here. Besides, I have a feeling everyone will be focused on the stage again once Riley comes out.

The opener is actually really good, but I’m glad his set was only a few songs. The crowd’s anticipation to see Riley is palpable as the opener clears off the stage and the stagehands come in to rearrange a few things. The crowd begins cheering Riley’s name over and over, and I’ll be damned if I don’t join in too.

It’s a weird feeling to be standing with a crowd of thousands of people all waiting to see your boyfriend—it sounds weird to say that, too. I feel incredibly proud of him and his success, but I also feel a twinge of jealousy that all these people want to see him as much as I do. Like…calm down a little, guys.

The lights dim for a few seconds, and the cheers become deafening. Then, the stage is flooded in blue-white light, with Riley standing front and center.

“Hi guys,” he says into the mic. “Wow, I think you’re the loudest city to date.”

The thunderous roar of the crowd swells with pride.

“Alright, alright, I hear you. I’ll shut up now and give y’all what you really want,” he grins. “This one’s called ‘Vicious.’”

The crowd goes wild, singing each word in time with Riley. I look to my side and see that even Heena’s singing along, jumping up and down with a huge grin on her face. Cole’s mouthing the words, and even Tito has cracked a smile.

Riley sings two more songs with brief asides to the crowd between each. After the third song, he takes the mic off the stand.

“So, New York is a very special place to me.” The crowd erupts. “I played my first big show here on New Year’s Eve. Truly, that night changed my life in more ways than one. I’m getting sidetracked. Because I love this city—and because y’all are such an amazing crowd—I thought you deserved something special.”

The crowd ‘ooohs’ in response.

“How about a brand-new, never-heard-before song?”

The crowd roars .

“I don’t know, though. Do you really want to hear it?” Riley revs up the crowd.

They scream loud enough that I can feel my ears ringing.

Riley raises his brows. “Alright, I’m convinced. This one’s called, ‘Put It on the Radio.’ Let’s hit it, guys,” he says to his band.

You had windburnt cheeks and a bottle of champagne

On the first night on that rooftop on Main

I had a country attitude and a cigarette

And had just seen a face I’d never forget

Now on the road, I wake up with a smile

Because all I dream about is you

My band teases me each mile

Say they’re sick and tired

Of all my songs being about you

But you make me sing of honey,

Away from all my bitter tunes,

You’ve turned my melodic minors,

Into blissful “I love you’s”

So put it on the radio

That I never want to let you go

Now that I’ve got you …

Riley doesn’t sing the last word in the chorus. He mouths, “Willow. ”

I don’t think anyone else in the crowd caught it, except Heena and me, but that totally was my name.

As the crowd screams, Heena looks at me, shocked. “Holy shit,” she says into my ear.

“Holy shit,” I echo.

“He mouthed ‘Willow,’ right?”

“Yep,” I respond, too stunned to speak.

“Holy shit,” she says again, dumbfounded.

After Riley plays the encore and exits the stage for good, I race backstage with Heena and the guards hot on my heels.

“You were incredible,” I squeal, throwing myself into his arms.

“Thanks,” he chuckles, wrapping an arm around my waist before loosening it and taking a step back. “You probably don’t want to be touching me right now. I’m all sweaty. I know that was your fear with my cowboy hat in North Carolina.”

“I don’t care,” I scoff at him. “I was just teasing you. And anyway, I’ve seen worse. You should see how sweaty Heena is after hot yoga.”

“That’s a lie, I don’t sweat,” Heena defends.

“Fine, you should see how much Heena ‘glistens’ after hot yoga.”

“I, for one, would love to see that,” Ethan offers.

Heena rolls her eyes at him. “Keep dreaming, buddy.”

“I will,” he smirks in response.

“Great show,” a middle-aged woman says, entering the room.

“Thanks. Tracy, meet Willow and Heena,” Riley introduces us. “And Willow and Heena, meet Tracy, my manager.”

Tracy looks me up and down and frowns slightly, seemingly seeing right through the public guise of our ‘friendship.’

“I hope you two know what you’re doing,” she says.

“We do,” Riley answers bluntly .

“You know you two are going to be plastered all over the internet tomorrow, right?”

I raise my eyebrows. “For what? I just like his music.”

“You were making sex-eyes at him all night. And Riley, you only looked at one particular spot in the crowd all night, even serenading it with a brand new love song. I think people are going to see through that.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Riley answers.

“You’ll be there by morning, I guarantee it.”

“We’ll manage,” I respond to the woman. I’m sure she’s just doing her job and looking out for Riley, but I sense a little disapproval in her tone—disapproval of his choice in women.

Nobody’s opinion matters except those of the people I love , I tell myself, finding Riley’s words calming.

“Well, as nice as it was to meet you, Tracy,” I say. “Heena and I should get going. We run on a tight schedule, you know, being supermodels and all.” Why did I just say that? I never rub my status as a supermodel in people’s faces. I find it tacky. “Riley, you’ll meet us at my penthouse, right?” Jesus, I did it again. What has gotten into me?

Waylon snickers behind Riley, no doubt at my blatant humble-bragging in front of Tracy.

“Nowhere I’d rather be, babe.” Riley grins, also amused by my uncharacteristic outburst.

“Tito, can you have the car pulled around?” Heena says, straightening her posture and narrowing her eyes down at Tracy. “I’m so glad we decided to bring your custom Rolls-Royce, Willow. I don’t tell you enough how much I love it. The backlit Swarovski crystals outlining the night sky on the day you were born were such a nice touch. But my favorite part is the built-in champagne fridge under the seats, of course. You put in that bottle of the Krug Clos d’Ambonnay that Oliver Rousteing gave you as a gift f or walking in Balmain’s Paris show, right?” Heena says, straightening her posture and narrowing her eyes down at Tracy.

Even though my cheeks heat at Heena’s obvious flaunting of my wealth and connections, I’m eternally grateful for her backing me up in the face of Tracy’s disapproval.

Heena’s message is very clear underneath her thinly veiled words: Willow is worlds above you, bitch. Your complaints are so far below her that she can’t even hear them.

“The car’s already outside.” Tito’s eyes glitter mischievously, and I can tell that he enjoyed Heena’s defense of me as much as I did.