And, yes, she uses it to her advantage more than I care to admit.
After everything that happened last year, I wracked my brain with all the ways I could keep her safe. Her having a permanent place in my city seemed like the most obvious answer, but she didn’t accept my offer. She gladly reminded me that I would be away more than I’m home. Who would keep her safe while I was gone?
After six months of constant begging, she relented.
I would hardly say Noelle calls this place home, but I made sure she always has a place here no matter what.
"Two minutes is up," I call out to them, forcing my thoughts back to tonight, hearing their laughter vibrate through the wall as Ryder waltzes in through my front door. "I’m leaving without you." It’s my final warning. I greet my best friend with a slapped hand shake. He smirks in the direction of the girls.
"Women," he teases, helping himself to a protein shake from my fully stocked fridge, his blue denim jacket thrown over a plain black t-shirt, black jeans cuffed at the ankle.
"Girls," I correct him. I keep my tone steady and firm, but his ability to rile me up is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. He finds joy in my annoyance.
"Women," he repeats, grinning as I roll my eyes and grab my keys, shoving them deep into my pocket. "Lighten up, brother. She’s been twenty-one for months. You cannot control her life." He chugs back his drink.
"We’re ready," my sister and her best friend say in unison, their voices both high pitched and equally annoying. Noelle’s brown, tight curls fall just below her shoulders, the light catching her natural gold highlights, while Leah’s black, straight hair hangs down her back.
"Three hoursfor jeans, sneakers and a shirt you stole from my closet?" I raise a brow as the four of us head out the door of my apartment. Orlando is meeting us at the venue, so we don’t have to wait for him.
"It was either this or a tight little dress," Leah purrs, her eyes locked on Ryder. He visibly shudders, and I do my best not to groan.
While ignoring Leah has never been possible, I’ve given it my best over the years. She and Noelle have been best friends since first grade, inseparable on all counts.
She’s like the sister I didn’t want but got stuck with anyway.
"Besides," Leah says. "You’re literally wearing the same thing, only the boy version."
I don’t even know what that means. I’m wearing jeans, sneakers, and a hooded jumper to disguise myself on the way in and out.
My stylistic choice is a tactic. My sister’s, however, is a fashion statement.
There’s a ten-year age gap between the girls and me, and I know I’m way too out of the loop for this conversation.
"Anyway, we’re staying for Olivia only, then we’re leaving." I clench my jaw as we ride the elevator down to the underground car park, key fob clenched tight in my fist.
"Her name isOlive," Noelle reminds meagain. I still can’t get past someone naming their kid after a salty piece of food that belongs on, like…a charcuterie board. "And Orlando told me he got us meet and greet passes too."Of course he did.
It’s a known fact that my manager loves to fuck with me. So it’s no surprise he looped Noelle into our plans and left me out.
By the time we make it inside, the crowd’s already screaming.
We make it to our seats—front and center— just as the lights dim. The guy next to Ryder looks weirdly familiar, but I can’t place him.
The girls are wedged between us, their knees bouncing, and their eyes glued to the stage.
They’re waiting impatiently for any sign that Olivia or Olive is even in the building, let alone on the empty stage.
And when I say empty, I mean it. It has a lone microphone on a stand, and nothing else. I’m now worried that the opener my sister is obsessed with is some wannabe karaoke singer with a backing track.
The thought alone makes me want to bail and wait in the car until this shit show is over.
It’s a full house, which, according to Noelle, is unheard of for an opening act."Nobody ever cares to see the person opening for the headliner. Usually, there are thousands of empty seats,"she told me. I wouldn’t know, I rarely leave the house. And when I do, it’s not to see pop stars live in concert.
My head scans around the place I know so well, unable to see any vacancies.
"What’s with the hype around this girl, anyway?" I ask Ryder, leaning his way. The guy on the other side of him whips his attention towards me, shocked by my question.
"The hype around Olive?" he asks. My head tilts automatically.I know that face.
