I chuckled. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.”
“Don’t be. You’re not exactly what I pictured, that’s all.”
“Well, I’m always here to talk.”
And somehow, we just…kept talking for hours. It never felt forced; it was just easy and comfortable in that weird way where neither of us had anything to prove. The conversation jumped everywhere—music, favorite foods, embarrassing stories we swore we’d never repeat. She was funny in this dry, low-key way that snuck up on me. Every time she laughed, it pulled something loose in my chest. I kept catching myself smiling like an idiot, not even caring if she heard it in my voice.
After a while, I asked, “So do you have friends you keep in touch with? I mean, I figure it's gotta be tough with your schedule and, you know...being famous.”
“I do, but most of my friends are just as crazy busy, so we barely see each other. My best friend is actually my publicist. She's amazing, but sometimes, I wonder if she'd still like me if Iweren't signing her checks. I mean, she's been with me forever, but…”
“That's gotta be tough, but I'm sure she likes you for you. You seem like the kind of person who's hard to hate.”
There was a pause and then this soft, almost disbelieving laugh. “You don't really know me, though.”
“Not yet, but I trust my instincts.”
“What about you? You seem like the type who probably has fifty friends and some group chat that never sleeps.”
I smiled. “You'd think, right? But nah, I keep my circle pretty small. Mostly family. A couple of teammates I'm close with, but honestly, my siblings and brother-in-law are my best friends. Though our family group chat does get a little crazy sometimes.”
“That's so weird to me,” she said. “Probably 'cause it's just me. No siblings.”
“Really?” Something in her tone made me pay closer attention.
“Yeah…” She trailed off. “My parents, though—they're incredible. They've always been my biggest supporters.”
“That's awesome. So they were on board with the whole music thing from the start?”
“Oh yeah. From the second I showed any talent and said I wanted this, they were all in.” Her words were warm, but there was something underneath—as if the love came with a weight. “They believed in me and backed me every step of the way.”
“That sounds amazing,” I said carefully, “but also maybe...a lot of pressure?”
“Yeah…” She was silent for a beat. “I think when someone believes in you that much, you start living up to their vision. Not because they force it, but because you can't stand the thought of disappointing them.”
“So you did this for them?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I love music. I wanted this. At least...I thought I did. But lately, I've been wondering if I fell in love with the idea more than the reality, you know? It all seemed so glamorous when I was younger. Maybe I never actually stopped to think about what success would look like if it was just mine.” She exhaled softly. “Sorry, that was total word vomit. You probably don't want to hear me ramble.”
I found myself smiling. “Don't apologize. Keep going.”
I could listen to you talk for hours.
“I mean, I didn't chase this for them. I chose it. But now...now, I just want to prove everything they sacrificed was worth it.”
I let her words hang there. The Ellie everyone else saw—polished, untouchable, larger than life—wasn't who I was talking to. It felt like I was talking to the girl behind all that.
And honestly? I liked this one way more than the fantasy I'd been chasing since college.
“That is a lot of pressure,” I said finally. “Like you made it to the top of the mountain, but the view isn't what you expected.”
“Exactly,” she said, barely above a whisper. “Don't get me wrong—I'm grateful. I love what I do. But some days, it just feels...heavy.”
I wanted to say something perfect, something that would fix it all, but all I had was the truth.
“Well, for what it's worth, you're crushing it. And if you ever need someone outside all that craziness—someone who doesn't give a shit about charts or PR—I'm here.”
She sighed into the phone. “Thank you, but speaking of PR…”
