“I’m going to guess salty-sweet.” Most women are suckers for that combo. I slather the cracker with pear-wine goat cheese, while Harmony ignores me in favor of some chocolatecroissants. “Now, do you like spicy? Or not so much? I don’t want to assume …”
“I only like spicy for tacos.”
“Got it.” I grab a bit of prosciutto with a pair of tongs and add it on top, then hand it over.
Harmony wrinkles her nose at my offering.
“Come on,” I say. “Try it.” When she doesn’t answer, I add, “Maybe I could feed it to you—you know, for the cameras?” I’m only half joking. I’d do it for laughs.
She finally snatches it and takes a bite. When she pauses, I know I’ve made her see the light.
“Good, right?” I ask.
“Fine,” Harmony admits, “but I’m still not sold on the Lunchables. The meat looks like it’s made of canned chicken puree.” She finishes it and moves on to some pineapple and strawberries.
Once we’ve got what we want on our plates, we mingle with anyone who dares to come talk to us.
It’s a couple of fashion vloggers (one of whom has apparently made some videos re-creating Harmony’s red-carpet looks) and a guy who is internet famous for daring people to do embarrassing things in public parking lots; then it’s an indie band that only does covers on YouTube, and they’ve recently covered two of our hate songs; late-night talk show host Preston Holt ofCatch You Later; Bethany Blaise fromBlindfolded Love; and another Glo rep who is interested in having us do some live acoustic performances at the brand’s Summer Session in July.
Most of the high-profile attendees aren’t brazen enough to ask outright if Harmony and I are dating. To the ones who do ask, we respond with a coy “we don’t know what you’re talking about” to which they grin conspiratorially. Everyone else just looks at us like they’re in on it and pretends to be more interested in other aspects of our careers, which I appreciate.
At some point, we get separated because Harmony is caught up in a conversation with anotherLucky Starscontestant (from a more recent season, and the girl seems to have a lot of trauma she wants to commiserate about) while I’m stuck listening to an influencer who does woodworking and has made a hundred and forty-three guitars (no doubt he’d love me to perform with one to help get him some better name recognition).
Next thing I know, Harmony is off sipping rosé with Gregory Vellum, a screen writer and director, while three young women from a supplements startup (they were featured on Shark Tank last year, they’re from Oklahoma, and they love my music) give me lots of attention, and they also ask if I’m really dating Harmony, but when one of them giggles and touches my arm, I suspect it’s more than idle curiosity.
Harmony chooses that exact moment to glance over.
Wonderful timing.
I kindly excuse myself so I can make my way back to my “date,” in case anyone else is paying attention.
Greg Vellum greets me before I’ve even reached Harmony’s side. “This must be the newly infamous Riff Hurley!”
When I do get there, he gives me the stiffest of handshakes.
“That’s me,” I say.
“I was just telling Harmony I’d love her to write something for the soundtrack of one of my upcoming projects.”
He goes on to describe the project to me, some dark supernatural version of Cinderella with vampires, and of course I nod along, and then he spots someone else from the film industry and leaves us to ourselves.
Before either of us can say anything, we simultaneously receive a group text from Jared, one of the label’s PR managers assigned to oversee our specific scheme.
JARED:There’s a cabana reserved for you two on the west side of the venue. It would be good if you could be seen cozying up in there for a bit.
We give each other dead looks when we finish reading it.
Another message comes through.
JARED:Also, I have an important update. I’ll explain when you get there. Look for two bluetooth headsets on the table and connect your phones ASAP. Will call in five.
“Shall we?” I say without enthusiasm.
Since we’re completely on the opposite end of the venue, it will take us a few minutes to get over there. Again, we walk side by side, giving photographers and vloggers plenty of chances to catch us together.
I try to look like I’m having a good time, but it’s hard when Harmony is so closed off, like she’s been since after the night I met her. What I wouldn’t give to catch a glimpse of the woman I spent an hour talking to—someone who had things to say about books, who opened up about feeling like her mom always thought she was too ambitious, who described coffee as “bean tea.”
A lot of attendees are now occupied listening to panel speakers, or exploring interactive kiosks that let them curate playlists and remixes, while others are trying to get good seats ahead of time for the performances that are scheduled to happen soon.
