Page 6 of Cusp: A Renzo + Lucia Companion

Marty nodded, seemingly pleased with that statement. “With representation on the ground for you, it’ll be a lot easier to do that.”

“And brand deals—”

“Will secure you a decent amount of cash. Income. Influencers struggle the most to secure brand deals in the current market because it’s oversaturated, but I can make it a hell of a lot easier on you. In LA, you’re going to need the income coming in regularly and consistently. And the more present you are, with the most recognizable brands on the market at the moment, the better off you’ll be, and the nicer you’ll look to anyone else. It’s all about raising your profile, Diego. Making you … in demand.”

“Huh.”

He understood.

Mostly.

“I mean, were you planning anything else next year?” Marty asked. “College or whatever?”

Diego barely considered his reply. “Not really.”

Everyone else was.

Not him, though.

“Nothing else I really want to do,” Diego admitted after a stretch of silence.

Marty passed him a look, but said nothing. Diego didn’t offer a reply after that, either. Maybe it was something in his voice that the manager heard, but the guy smiled slightly telling him, “Listen, you still have time to think about it. I’ve got time. And it’s not like I can’t just fly you out, you know? If you wanted to come out and see what it could be like for you in LA with a decent rep watching your back—say the word, kid, I’ll make it happen. Get you set up. You’re worth it, Diego.”

Was he?

Diego didn’t really know.

“You still have my card, right?” Marty asked.

“Yeah, tucked away.”

“Then, you know how to reach me. Say the word, and your next stop is LA, kid.”

He was still considering Marty’s offer long after the man had left the skatepark. Fucking with his camera to check the footage from earlier, the idea of LA continued playing on repeat in his mind and what it could all mean. Maybe it was just too much information for his seventeen—almost eighteen—year-old brain to truly comprehend, but that didn’t make much of a difference to him.

LA seemed like the right choice.

The buzzing of his phone had him glancing to the left of his current perch on the cement steps of the park’s exit. Figuring it was just going to be Rose saying the school called again because he didn’t show up, he was surprised to find a different name lighting up the screen.

Renzo, that was.

He snatched the phone up from the ground and answered the call without thinking about it. “Hey, Ren.”

“You know Rose has called me twice today because you didn’t show up to school—”

“I had something else to do.”

“Again,” Renzo finished quietly.

He loved his brother.

He did.

Sometimes, though, Ren got that parent tone going on when he spoke, and Diego didn’t want to hear any of it. He blamed that on the fact that he never really had parents to begin with. Only his older siblings that looked out for him and did what they needed to do even though raising him wasn’t their job.

He wished they understood that didn’t make them his mother or father—so far, no such luck.

“I was looking forward to coming to Nevada to see you,” Diego said, referring to the trip he was supposed to take soon, “but less when you … do that, Ren.”