It’s also rife with innuendo.
I’ll wind you up, I’ll push your buttons,
You know I’ll play with you,
But that’s not all,
I can be your doll,
You can play with me too …
Everyone loves it—or at least gets a kick out of it.
Meanwhile, my publicity team continues to remind me how songs about my exes were working well last year but that that routine is mere months from going stale. Not that it was ever a routine. I didn’t arbitrarily decide to make that my brand; it’s just what I’ve felt like writing. I write what’s on my mind.
“You’re too sweet,” Daisy says.
Her twenty-four-year-old physique is magnificent. She’s a little curvy, but she carries it “the right way” (as nebulous as that sounds, it’s a real thing, I don’t make the rules) so it doesn’t seem to work against her. No surprise she just got a brand dealwith Sweet Nothings: Intimate Apparel. Instinctively I suck my stomach in, although my top has plenty of structure.
After a few beats of awkward silence, I loudly ask, “Are you much of a K-pop fan?” and nod toward one of the huge banners with the band members’ faces emblazoned on it.
“To be frank, I only just did a little crash course on their previous album in the limo on the way here. But I liked it!”
As we speak, the beat of the new album’s number one single “Wild Child” thumps in the background. Glambam release parties generally involve listening to the whole album in a dance party fashion, with some breaks for speeches, behind-the-music talks, and giveaways. It tends to take around two hours, followed by an afterparty.
Right now, we’re about halfway through the main event, and somehow this song is part EDM, part rap, and incorporates a harpsichord.
At this point, I know Stefanie would like me to segue into the topic of collaboration—“It’s crazy how different elements can work together even when you wouldn’t expect them to,” I might say, or, “Don’t you love the way they’ve blended genres?”—but I can’t make my mouth form the words. As if meeting Daisy for the first time when we were already so aware of each other wasn’t weird enough, now I’m supposed to broach the subject of working together?
Before I can say anything anyway, a redhead in a bodycon dress and feathered mask approaches us.
“Harmony—there you are!”
“Jenna,” I say, relieved to see one of my assistants. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, but Chad needs to see you right now. I’m so sorry to interrupt.”
Jenna practically bows to Daisy, so I introduce her. It’s the least I can do since she’s just rescued me. After a fewpleasantries, I excuse myself and follow Jenna until we’re tucked in a corner where the ballroom connects to the storage rooms.
“Thank you for that,” I say.
Whenever I need her to get me out of something, she’s supposed to blame it on “Chad.”
She nods. “I know Stef has been on you to get with other artists for a project. And I know Daisy is one of the last people you’d pick.” A chuckle escapes her.
Guests wander among tables and displays and cater-waiters carrying hors d’oeuvres, but thanks to the noise and the semi-darkness and the masks, it’s not immediately obvious who’s who unless people get up close to one another. That, at least, protects me from unwanted attention for the moment.
“No problem,” Jenna says. “Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head. “I just need a few minutes. That’s what I was trying to get in the bathroom before Stefanie found me.”
“In that case, I’ll go find her and keep her distracted.” With that, she darts back into the fray.
My hero.
Falling into step with some of the catering staff, I use the flow of their foot traffic to sneak me to a corridor that leads to the grounds outside, where signs with arrows point to The Habitat. I imagine it’s called that because of the wildlife onsite; the resort boasts of playing host to flamingoes, swans, turtles, and koi. I burst through the doors, forcing warm air to rush over me, tickling the places where my skin is bare, fluttering my cape.
Outside is an oasis packed with palm trees and ferns around a winding koi pond with a small waterfall. Flamingoes wander around sections of immaculate grass or perch on chunky beige rocks. Swans float above the koi. The stamped concrete paths meander through the greenery, leading to alcoves where guests might stand to admire the view or sit on one of the iron benches for a respite from the chaos.
