Page 13 of I Fell for an Alien Popstar

Maybe none of it had happened. I’d been telling myself that. Maybe my brain had edited reality for narrative flavor.

I walked up the stairs to the coat check kiosk, flashing my wrist comm ticket. Within a minute, my suitcase and bag were handed back to me. I smiled, stepping off to the side as I pulled out my notebook. I wanted to sketch before I headed off to find a hotel room. There was no way I could let a show like that fade from my memory. What an incredible show.

I was still replaying it in my head when my brain moved on to merchandise. I definitely needed a souvenir to bring back, maybe five. A shirt, maybe a poster, and definitely one of those chromeskin bracelets I’d seen people wearing outside. Something physical I could take home and hold up as proof that tonight had actually happened.

I scanned the corridor for a merchandise stand when a hand tapped my shoulder.

“Vada Lamoth?”

I turned. Two security staff members in dark, shiny shirts stood behind me, badges glowing softly at their collars. They were both Velan, each taller than me by a head.

My stomach dropped, as if it had left the rest of me behind.

“Uh—yes? I paid for my ticket, I swear.” I quickly activated my wrist comm and showed them the ticket.

“We know,” the one on the left said. “You’re not in trouble. Ms. Lumis has requested to meet with you.”

My brain did not process that sentence. It received the words, held them up to the light, turned them over, and then returned them marked insufficient data.

“I’m sorry,” I said, confused. “Ms. Who has requested to… what with me?”

The one on the right’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close. “Zhari Lumis. She’d like to see you backstage.”

“That was rhetorical. I obviously know who she is,” I muttered, looking down and shaking my head. “Zhari Lumis wants to see me,” I repeated, as if saying it more slowly would make it make sense. “Me. The nobody human with the smudged mascara and the Earth sticker on her wristband. That Vada Lamoth.” I looked up at them. “You’re sure you have the right one?”

“You’re the only Vada Lamoth in the building, miss,” the one on the left said.

That tracked, actually. The gate scanner had read my holo-ticket on the way in—name, species, seat assignment, probably my shoe size for all I knew. If Zhari had described me to security, all they had to do was pull up the scan log. One human woman in the pit section with long purple hair.

Not exactly hard to narrow down.

“Right. Obviously. Sure.”

I stood there for a second, mouth open, my brain completely offline. Then it rebooted into the most unhinged possible response.

“Can I grab merchandise first?”

They both stared at me.

“She’s one of the most famous women in the galaxy and wants to see you right now,” the one on the right said, “and you want to stop at the merchandise booth?”

“I’ve been eyeing this chromeskin bracelet all night, and I just—you know what, never mind. Lead the way. Merchandise can wait. Merchandise can absolutely wait.” My voice had gone up about three octaves. “Oh my stars. I can’t believe she wants to see me. I have been a huge fan of hers since… well, forever!”

They looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“Follow us, please.”

I looked past them, down the corridor that led to the regular exits. I could make a break for it. Probably. These two were tall, but I was scrappy and full of adrenaline, and my brain was currently running on dial-up.

Then I looked the other way, where the guard was already opening a side door. Beyond it, the light shifted—cooler and bluer, the color of places only staff and stars got to see.

My heart picked up a syncopated rhythm in my chest, all off-beat and reckless.

I tightened my grip on the strap of my bag. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go before I pass out and make this everyone’s problem.”

Whatever this was, I was already in it. There was no version of my life after this hallway that would look anything like before.

The hallway behind the stage didn’t sound like the concert I’d just been in. It sounded like the ghost of it—muffled, distant bass and the chatter of people.