Page 79 of Make Me Laugh

I shake my head. “Yeah, no, don’t ever call me that again.”

He puffs a laugh through his nose, followed by a real, warm West smile. “Night, Joey.”

I don’t say another word to him before tucking myself inside my room and closing the door.

The heat spreading through my chest doesn’t subside, if anything, it’s close to sparking and setting this whole place ablaze. Instead of grabbing a fire extinguisher to protect myself, I fall asleep in West’s hoodie, surrounded by the warm smell of an autumn campfire.

The last thing I remember before I drift off is wondering why I was even afraid of getting burned in the first place.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

THE ONE WITH LITTLE DICK LARRY

HexedHeroine and WestParkerComedy are tagged in a video: Got to see them in action at a New Haven show… Can confirm they’re as hot as the OG video

Comment: “I like smart witches” ?!??!?!!! omg

Comment: More. We want more of THIS.

Comment: Why is this video 3hrs long?

“JoJo, I’m so sorry.” Frankie looks like she’s about to cry, and I think my heart might shatter if she keeps it up.

“I swear to god, if you apologize one more time…” I sit on the edge of the king-size bed of my hotel room. We got to New York City last night, and since we have a few days off, Frankie decided to take the train in this morning and surprise me with tickets to see Hamilton on Broadway.

Her friend Jules, from her Broadway National Tour days, is playing Angelica and promised to upgrade our seats if I could get her tickets to one of West’s sold-out shows.

I’m sure I can bat an eyelash or two and get Enzo to figure it out for me.

After another short clip of us went viral from the first New Haven show, both of our followings across platforms skyrocketed. I can’t keep up with all the individual counts, because by the time I finish, they’re different anyway.

All our platforms are out performing most big creators right now, and I’ve been sorting through brand deals like candy, only choosing the best ones to bring to West’s attention.

So far, I’ve got a few in the works, but nothing I’m willing to let him sign right away. I know what his brand is worth—I’m not taking deals just to take them. I want money—enough for both of us.

If we’re going to exploit our lives in this way, we might as well be paid for it.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Frankie shoves all her things into her bag haphazardly. “Like, what could they possibly need to talk to me about so urgently it couldn’t wait until I got home later tomorrow afternoon?”

Frankie’s record label called her about five minutes ago, demanding she be at a 7:00 a.m, meeting. That’s not usually a good sign…

“You’ve been unhappy with them for a long time. They’re doing nothing for you, other than trying to make you sound like every other pop star out there.” If I don’t tell her these things, who will? “Frankie Lou isn’t… you…” I hesitate with that last word because the rhyming feels ill placed in a moment like this, but that’s the name they’re trying to get her to adopt, along with a new identity.

Frankie flops down on the chair in the corner of the room. “I know,” she groans, letting out a long and defeated sigh. “I guess I just thought when the time came, it would be me doing the breaking up. Not the other way around.”

I help her finish packing and then walk with her to the subway station.

It’s October, my favorite time of year, and the weather has changed pretty quickly over the last couple days. Wind shoots through the buildings, people’s scarves whipping behind them as they plow through.

I pull Frankie into a big hug and tell her I love her before letting her go. “Call me as soon as the meeting’s over… and before if you need to!” I shout at Frankie’s back as she walks down the first few steps. “Oh, and let me know when you get home safe, please!”

She looks over her shoulder and yells back, “Yes, Mom! I will.”

I flip off her back and laugh to myself as I turn and walk back to the hotel.

I’m super bummed Frankie had to leave, but I’m not going to let it ruin my night. Before going back up to the room, I stop by the bar downstairs and order a dirty martini with bleu cheese olives to sip while I finish getting ready.

I pin my hair up in curlers while doing my makeup in smoky colors with black liner and a sharp cat eye, choosing a dark red lip stain as my statement piece. When my makeup’s done and I’ve finished listening to the audiobook I had playing, I put on one of my favorite pop-punk playlists and get dressed.