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…
“Quick question, why aren’t we in Bora Bora again?” Miki is asking, his long, brown body stretched out under the sun on the upper deck of Spencer’s boat.
It’s an hour after our swim, and we’re freshly showered and hungry. I still can’t believe it. After all these months, I made it to the boat. Still alive. Still blocked.
Last night, as my team and I stumbled on board, I got a text from Spencer:
Wes: Isaiah, theL&Hwelcomes you aboard. I have hired some people to take care of you. If you ask them, they can also tell you about amazing places to visit—they are all Greek. Enjoy and play nice.
“Because you’re working, genius,” I reply, stretching.
“Well, this definitely does not feel like work,” Jude winks at me. Before my rehab stint, Jude had his own brush with self-destruction.
He kind of tried the spoiled pop legend lifestyle and, let’s just say, it didn’t agree with him. He has been known to throw guitars to the audience and legendary tantrums in front of the paps—but to be fair, they hunt him like vultures, because he’s the ‘pretty boy’. Well, I don’t know about pretty, but he is white. The only white member of my band. Some people say that I am not white, so they kind of needed a white dude for their photos.
Nothing sells in America like a white guy, even if he’s not exactly the idol himself. Issy Woo’s (my) face will always be Chinese, no matter how many girls stick posters of it above their beds. Anyway, let’s brush past all the racism—it gives me indigestion.
I look over at Jude and his supposed gorgeous light brown locks falling over his Gucci sunglasses. Right now, he’s definitely channeling an obnoxious, spoiled star. Then again, I haven’t been easy to live with these past few years, so who am I to talk?
“It should,” I tell him. “We’re opening in Athens in three weeks.”
“Athens,” Jude chuckles. “You’ve finally gone and lost your damn mind, haven’t you?”
“Yep,” I reply, squinting up at the sun. “If you’re looking for its whereabouts, ask Spencer.”
“Wait a second.” Jude takes off his glasses and fixes me with his famous gray eyes. “Are you telling me that Spencer requested a show in Greece in payment for letting us use his yacht?”
“That is exactly what I’m telling you.”
Somehow Jude finds this so hilariously funny, he falls off his lounge chair laughing. Has he started drinking already?
I look out into the water, trying to forget my annoyance.
The sky is slowly turning orange-pink and I pad around the deck barefoot, feeling like I’m standing on glassy waters, gleaming turquoise under the sparkling sun.
“Ok, boys,” Skye’s super annoying voice splinters what calmness I’ve managed to reach. He grabs us both by the napes of our necks, buzzing with excitement. “Quick itinerary for tomorrow: We’re taking it slow, your first day in Greece and all, sleeping off the jet lag and everything. I want you to drink water, hit the gym, and,” he grabs Jude’s wineglass and pulls it out of the way, “gaze out into the sea. Maybe we’ll take a hike into the mountains, that might help you feel human or whatever. Touch some grass.”
He swipes a well-toned arm across the sea, which is crowned by mountains on either side. They are majestic and covered in deep green. My mouth waters with longing. I close my eyes and imagine myself sitting under an olive tree, reading Euripides, cool air on my skin. Bliss.
“Also, heads up,” Skye goes on, relentless. “Two arrivals today. Isaiah’s little poet should be here in an hour or two, and—”
“No time wasted,” I snap. “You had to bring her on here my first day?”
“And Lou,” he finishes, ignoring me.
And that’s when I snap. I turn around to face him so fast I see stars, but I don’t care.
“Youwhat?” I scream at Skye. “You invited Lou here? On Spencer’s boat? He’ll kill me. But not before I kill you.”
Skye just stands there and takes it. “You’d have to meet her at some point,” he says once I’m done yelling at him. “Might as well get it over with.”
I’m so mad I can’t even talk.
I look away from Skye. The calmness has evaporated.
…
Louisa Grove and I dated for about ten seconds two years ago. She was one in a series of girlfriends I pretended to have (tried to have), mostly so that I could prove to myself that I was over Eden and not stuck in the past. Lou was the one I managed to keep for more than a week, mostly because she is a pretty cool musician herself and we kind of vibed. Two years later, our dating is ancient history, and she is one of the budding singers opening for me in Europe.
