Page 71 of I Fell for an Alien Popstar

The more I talked, the more my words tangled, but once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop.

By the time I got to the part where Sira asked me to disappear into private suites and avoid cameras, Pia’re set her fork down with a soft tap.

“Okay,” she said as she picked up a napkin and wiped her lips.

She took a breath and then let out a long sigh.

“The universe does not make mistakes with bonds,” she went on to explain. “It looked at every person in every system and said, ‘Her.’ You. Specifically. Not ‘someone vaguely Vada-shaped.’ You.”

I squirmed in my seat.

“I’m not saying the universe is never messy,” she went on. “But this? This is not a glitch. And you said it yourself. You’ve spent so long shrinking that you are treating the most extraordinary thing that has ever happened to you like it’s probably a mistake.”

I raised my eyebrows and sighed in agreement.

“It’s not that simple,” I said quietly. “Sira said—”

“It’s simple, though. Sira is managing a career,” Pia’re cut in. “The universe is managing a bond. Those are not the same department.”

She leaned closer.

“And think of it this way: if you seal the bond—”

She smirked and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Sira will have to chill because you two will be bonded. No more background NPC.”

A helpless laugh escaped me, half sob and half relief. She did have a point I hadn’t considered.

“She wants to protect her,” I said. “And, okay, me. From what comes with being famous. I get that.”

“You can understand why she asked for background without agreeing that you belong there forever,” Pia’re said. “You are allowed to protect something new and still admit that you want to be seen. Those things are not mutually exclusive.”

I looked down and stared at the jellyfish drifting lazily past our feet. It must have been nice, I thought, to be nothing more than a heartbeat in the current.

There was a hollow ache of envy in watching them. No past to regret. No future to fear. Just the simple, silent weightlessness of existing.

“I’m just scared,” I said, finally snapping out of my daze. I looked up, locking onto Pia’re’s eyes. “Someone like me doesn’t usually get this. I just wish my brain could accept that I’m… allowed to have it.”

I picked up my fork and began a pointless excavation of my cold Brellan, moving pieces from one side of the plate to the other.

“Your brain will catch up,” she said. “Your gut already knows. You got on a shuttle alone to another planet to see a girl you’d only ever watched through screens. That was not a brain decision. That was pure, unreasonable courage.”

I could feel the tears slowly start to swell behind my eyes. I blinked quickly, staring hard at the table.

“That’s one word for it,” I muttered.

“I am serious,” she said, her tone leaving no room for my self-doubt. “Every time you talk about her, you light up. Every time you talk about yourself, you make yourself smaller. Maybe try reversing that once or twice. See what happens.”

I snorted, a messy sound that broke the tension. I swiped at my eye, the dampness leaving a cool trail on my skin.

“You’re very bossy,” I laughed, feeling the weight in my chest lift by an inch.

“Neptune Academy teaches us about boundaries,” she said, her expression turning mock-serious as she smoothed her hair. “I am simply applying the curriculum.”

We both laughed and picked up our drinks. She took a sip, laughing, then stopped. Her attention had drifted past me, fixed on the entrance. She sat straighter and set down her drink, picking up a napkin to dab her bottom lip. She folded her hands and fidgeted with them on top of the table before dropping them to her lap.

“Pia’re? You okay?”