She laughed and brushed her hair from her face. “You’re just saying that ’cause you know how nervous I was.”
Meanwhile, Yana stood frozen next to Zay. Her hands clutched a tiny gold clutch like it held her life in it. Shai had just walked over and gave Zay a hug while smiling at her like she wasn’t one of the biggest names in music.
“You look so pretty tonight,” Shai said as she pulled away from Zay’s arms. “I love your dress. That color is everything.”
Yana blinked fast. Her cheeks bloomed with heat. “Oh my God, . . . thank you. I . . . I love your music. Like, all of it.”
Shai laughed gently. “That means a lot. Are you into music like your dad?”
Yana hesitated, then nodded. “Sort of. I write songs. Just, . . . you know, for fun.”
Shai leaned in like she’d just discovered something precious. “Baby, don’t ever say just for fun. If it moves you, it’s real. Don’t minimize that.”
Yana nodded fast. “I won’t.”
Shai’s face lit up, and she brushed the back of her hand across Yana’s cheek. “Good. Keep writing, okay?”
“I will,” Yana whispered, visibly overwhelmed.
When Shai walked away, Zay chuckled. He placed a hand on Yana’s shoulder to ground her. “You good?”
“I can’t believe that just happened,” Yana exclaimed. “Shai just talked to me! Oh my God, I can’t believe it!”
Her eyes flicked up to Zay, then over toward where Love stood across the room, laughing with Malcolm, and for the firsttime that night, she didn’t feel like a guest in someone else’s dream.
She felt like she belonged in it too.
The announcement came that it was the start of the show, and people made their way between large double doors that opened to the theater. Zay, Love, and Yana all followed the crowd and found seats in the middle. Yana sat in between both of her parents. She gleamed brightly and proud.
When the lights dimmed and the movie began, silence swept the room.
It was raw, aching, full of hope and heartbreak. A beautiful book to film feature. Love glanced around and saw people dabbing at their eyes. Zay noticed heads nodding to certain beats and caught subtle smirks at the emotional gut punches only a real story could deliver.
Then came the final actand the music with the scene.
Zay’s voice filled the theater. His unreleased track poured from the speakers, but Love didn’t need to be told what it was.She recognized the lyrics instantly.
What the audience heard was a love story. But what she heard, . . . it was their story.
Her throat tightened. Tears escaped before she could stop them. Her chest rose and fell as if breathing had become new again.
Yana leaned over and hugged her and whispered, “Mom, you okay?”
“Yes,” Love answered between tears. “I am now, baby girl.”
When the credits rolled, the entire room rose to their feet. Applause thundered throughout the room. It was a standing ovation. People turned toward her, toward them.
Suddenly, Zay rose slowly and joined in the crowd. Yana rose then, too, clapping and smiling at her mother. Love smiledand wiped tears. She stood and waved to the room as they all cheered.
It felt like more than a premiere. It felt like a homecoming.
They skipped the after-parties.
Instead, Love and Yana met Zay at his house that was tucked in the L.A. hills. Love’s heels sat at the front door. She’d pulled off her dress in the car before stepping in, exchanging it for shorts and a T-shirt she had from their luggage. Yana had done the same. The music played low, and the scent of pizza filled the air.
Yana danced barefoot to one of Zay’s new tracks. “This one’s dope,” she said.
“You think so?” He grinned. “Next time, you on the track with me, right?”
