It’s as if knowing the rest of her makes the image she puts out into the world stronger. Deeper. There’s no way that bringing that into her music would turn off the fans. The whole package of Aria Wilder is just like what they’ve already grown to love—it’s just better.
Chapter 22
Aria
Griffin thinks Aria doesn’t see him watching her while she lip-syncs along to “The Very Top,” her song the crew picked for the shoot. It’s a song about a woman being at the top of her game and all of her exes coming out of the woodwork. It’s an excellent pick for the product.
Aria basks in Griffin’s attention, feeling more energy in each step, actually pressing into the vocals, even though a recorded track will play in the final commercial. Aria suspects Griffin’s actually come to categorize her as a friend; hopefully it’s not just her projecting her own feelings on him. He’s notthatgood of an actor, even if he’s come miles since that very first time she pulled him onstage and he almost melted into an embarrassed puddle.
“All right, we got the shot!” the producer calls out with a slap on her clipboard. “Five-minute break, then we go to the final shot with Griffin.”
Aria steps down off the collapsible stage, and Griffin meets her, a bottle of Level Up held out.
“Wanna get a sip and really get into it?” he asks.
Aria looks left then right. “Don’t tell anyone, but I hate the stuff. It’s got a weird aftertaste.”
“All for the cause, I guess,” Griffin says.
Aria shrinks a little. She doesn’t want Griffin to think she’s a sellout. “Well, I don’t mean it that way. I’m sure other people love it, and of course we’ve got this setup between us.”
Griffin looks away. “You know, I was starting to have so much fun with it, I forgot it’s all a setup for a bit.” There’s a wistfulness to his voice Aria can’t help but notice.
Aria reaches out and grasps his bicep, taken aback by the firmness of it. “I don’t see any issue with leaning into the fun. I’m enjoying our time together. I mean, you’re way better than I expected.”
Griffin laughs. “And what did you expect?”
Aria won’t say it. Griffin is already sorely misunderstood about the depth of what he has to offer the world. She won’t pile on by admitting that she expected the professional athlete stereotypes.
“Come on. You can tell me.”
Aria sighs. She’d rather not, but at Griffin’s request she elaborates. “You’re not like the typical pro player. Trust me, I’ve come across many—and from all different leagues—and most of them want money, women, parties, fame, and nothing else. Let me just say, none of them would have gone out of their way to offer me a ride when my driver ghosted.”
“Not even basic decency, huh?” Griffin says.
If only he understood. It’s more than basic decency. It’s being considerate of others, seeing beyond oneself. Kindness. It’s a groundedness that requires resistance to all the forces of fame, the ones that promise the famous person that they are the be-all and end-all—that they are of utmost importance, unlike some.
“I think it’s easy in the whirlwind of it all, the admiration from their fans, to lose sight of what really matters.”
“All right! Break’s over!” Kelsey marches back up. “You’re doing great, but we need to stay on schedule. Directors?” She marches toward the crew, who snap to attention, and soon the final segment is underway.
Aria is directed back onto the small stage in front of the mic. Griffin is set up in front of the stage where he will act like he’s attending Aria’s performance before tossing the bottle of Level Up to Aria.
“Aria, you leave the mic in the stand, but pretend like you’re singing into it, then when Griffin throws the bottle, you catch it. Crack the lid, take a sip, then say, ‘Time to level up!’”
Aria nods.
“Do we really think she should take a sip?” Griffin asks. “It seems like it would interrupt the flow.”
The producer throws Griffin an offended look at his questioning, and just when Aria assumes Griffin would back down, he holds the man’s eye. Is Griffin Hayes going toe-to-toe with this producer? Is this the on-the-field version of him?
“Well. I guess—”
“I’ll take a drink. Probably would sell more to see a pro tight end happily drinking it.”
The producer’s face lights up. “That’s actually a really good point. Yes, we’ll have Griffin dance, take a drink, then throw it to Aria, who says the tagline.”
Aria bites back the smile that teases at her lips. Did Griffin really just go out of his way to help her avoid sipping the drink she hates? He’s giving every action hero a run for their money right now. Aria will need to get him a gift before this arrangement is over.
