Nico pulled out his phone. “Want to go over Houston?”
“Sure.” Anything to avoid thinking aboutPackoForever.
Before we could look at the day’s schedule, Nico’s phone chimed. He frowned when he checked it.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Kai again.” He sighed. “And Jace. And Theo. And Noah.”
“How bad?” I asked.
Before he could answer, my phone buzzed twice.
“The fuck?” I checked, and it was the damn group chat again.
Nico looked over. “What?”
“Dog and Brody.” I read the messages out loud.
DOG: Hey, loverboy. Saw the Insta.
BRODY: #Packo’s trending today. Got something to tell us?
PACKY: Shut up. It’s all over now.
Nico’s phone dinged, and he scowled. Before I could ask if it was Marissa, mine went off again.
LOGAN: Nothing’s over. You should check TikTok.
He sent a link, but before I could click, Nico groaned and said, “Fuck me.”
“Huh?”
“More people have posted videos of us on Insta. And that post we looked at last night has almost seven thousand likes now.”
I clicked Logan’s link, and the TikTok started playing. It was a video from the first press conference we did in New York. It had 3,072 likes and 812 comments. I scrolled to read the comments, and goddammit, they were exactly like the ones from last night. Maybe worse.
Nico shifted in his chair. “What are we going to do?”
“Don’t know.”
My phone vibrated again, a call this time. I glanced at Nico. “It’s Marissa.”
I answered and told her to wait while I got Nico on the line.
“This isn’t cool,” he told her. “It’s time for us to go home and call this off.”
She laughed while Nico and I exchanged bewildered glances.
I started to agree with him, but before I got two words out, she started talking. “Don’t panic. Just because something trends on social media doesn’t mean it’s true. It will fade eventually, but for now, the commissioner loves the engagement numbers. Everything is up at least three hundred percent. All you have to do is smile more and keep leaning into it. The public loves your hate comedy.”
Despite our protests, she wouldn’t budge. It was a relief to disconnect when they called our flight.
“This is fucking stupid,” I said as we walked down the jetway. “We’re not a damn rom-com.”
Nico put on his infuriating smirk. “Speak for yourself. I look great in a montage.”
Our seats were midway through the first-class cabin, and Nico told me to go first.
