“Anna is pansexual.”
“Oh, sorry. Anyway, you know what they say. All publicity is good publicity.”
“Right.” Curious, she pulled out her phone and opened Twitter. She rarely used it and had all the notifications turned off, but she could still view her tweets, or rather, the tweets Paris sent on herbehalf. She pulled up the photos in question, looking at them with a critical eye.
Sure, she and Anna looked friendly with each other. She could see the admiration in Anna’s eyes as she watched Eden sing. But attraction? Eden wasn’t so sure. She pinched her fingers over Anna’s face to enlarge it. Maybe she did look a little starry eyed, but Eden had always assumed that stemmed from the way she’d idolized Eden when she was younger.
Was it more than that?
Eden felt a strange thrill at the thought that Anna mightlikeher, but that was absurd. Even if Eden hadn’t been straight, she and Anna had no business fooling around together, not when they had to see each other every day on tour for the next six months. And Eden was straight. She couldn’t forget that part.
She scrolled through the replies, and wow, there were a lot. So many#Edannahashtags and emoji she didn’t understand. A lot of flames. And GIFs of people fainting. And references to ships that made no sense. Then there was a GIF of a woman fanning herself, with the caption#gaypanic. Eden’s face was flaming as she lowered her phone.
“Why are they talking about boats?” she blurted.
Paris gave her a blank look. “What?”
“On Twitter. I’m so confused ... this is why I usually don’t look.”
“Oh, you mean ships?” Paris asked.
Eden waved a hand. “Ships. Boats. What does that have to do with me and Anna?”
Paris grinned. “It’s a fandom term, short for ‘relationship.’ When you ‘ship’ two people, it means you want to see them as a couple. The term originated in the nineties from fans ofThe X-Fileswho wanted Mulder and Scully to be together.”
“Oh.” Eden’s cheeks grew even hotter. “That’s ... how do you know that?”
“It’s my job to understand fans,” Paris said. “And today, yours are shipping you with Anna.”
“Well, they’re in for disappointment on that front.”
“Not necessarily. You and Anna have great chemistry onstage together, and the fans are going to love seeing that on tour. Who cares if some of them fantasize about you being more than friends? That just adds to the appeal, right?”
Eden cleared her throat. “Right.”
At the studio, she spent the morning in a meeting with her tour manager, ironing out final details on the stage, which would soon be installed in the same arena where the Grammys had been held. Eden would open her tour here in LA, and she’d be rehearsing at the arena for the last few days before opening night.
From there, she’d go up the West Coast, then across the center of the country and up into Canada. She had a week off toward the end of the North American leg of the tour before she made her way down the East Coast and then overseas. All told, she’d be on the road until October, and she couldn’t wait.
“Knock, knock,” Anna’s voice called from behind her.
Eden was alone at the table in the break room, looking over paperwork. She smiled, waving Anna into the room. “Hey.”
“No rehearsal for you this morning?” Anna had on black athletic pants and a rainbow-striped top.
Eden shook her head. “A production meeting. I’ll be rehearsing this afternoon.”
“Ah.” Anna grabbed a bottle of water and perched on the edge of the table. “This is exciting, you know? Seeing all the details come together.”
“We’ll be on the road before you know it.” Eden studied her, looking for evidence of the “gay panic” Anna’s fans were so sure she exuded. Eden didn’t see it, but her own heart was racing, and she wasn’t sure why. “This is your first tour, right?”
Anna nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve played shows here and there, but I’ve only played a full-size arena once ... with you, at the Grammys.”
“You’ll be a pro in no time,” Eden told her. “I heard we caused a stir on Twitter last night.” Oh God, why had she said that? A warm flush spread over her skin.
Anna jumped like Eden had poked her, hopping off the table. She paced to the window. “Yep. We have our own hashtag now. Twitter official.” She paused, glancing over her shoulder at Eden. “I thought you didn’t look at your social media?”
“I don’t. Paris told me about it this morning.”
