I pulled away from Antonio’s latest brush, swiveling in my seat. Alex had followed Yumi and was now hovering on the other side of the threshold. A quick glance at his expression told me that he knew exactly what day this was.

I was careful not to show any emotion. “Could I have the room, please?”

The stylist said, “Are you sure, hon? The hair’s not quite finished—”

My eyes didn’t leave Alex’s. “I’m sure.”

Antonio excused himself and started down the stairs, but Yumi lingered by the door. Hesitating, she said, “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

“No, it’s okay,” I said. “Could you have Antonio leave the lipstick on the kitchen island and tell him to send me the bill?”

When the house was quiet, Alex and I simultaneously let out a long breath.

“Hi,” he said. His voice was low, guarded.

“Hi.”

A long pause. Alex stood in a darkened corner of the room, shadowed in blue, a perfect embodiment of an unshaved college student with uncombed hair and a wrinkled T-shirt. The mirror’s reflection showed me sitting under a spotlight of white, my legs exposed from under a short dressing robe. I looked almost screen-ready, minus the sapphires I still needed to apply to my ears and neck. The disparity between our two lives was suddenly very clear. I spoke carefully.

“So . . .”

He ran his hand over the chair before he spoke. It was a heavy, tense moment that felt longer than it was. “I had this whole thing planned out. But it’s kinda left me.” He gave a tiny huff of a laugh. I folded my fingers together, checking my manicure. When I looked up again, he had a fierce expression on his face that made my heart drop into my stomach.

“I just wanted to tell you how fucked up all of this has been. We’ve been friends for how long, Cassidy? And we’ve always talked. We’ve worked through our issues. I supported you throughout this entire singing career, even before you moved out here. And what do you do? You treat me like shit, like I’m some groupie or something, instead of a real person you knew when you were a real person. God, are you even a real person anymore?”

It stung to hear this from Alex, who was normally so mild-mannered. “Of course I’m a real person. Why would you say that?”

“Look at how you’ve been acting. Like going to this show with a guy who obviously digs you.”

“Not obviously. Not everything you see out there is real, Alex. Do you understand that? He’s acting a part, I’m acting a part. That is the act.”

He crossed his arms. “So you don’t have feelings for St. James?”

I batted this away. “That doesn’t even matter. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be me? To have this pressure to be perfect all the time?”

“Fuck, Cassy!” he exploded. “I can’t believe you’d cheat on me!”

“Are you deaf? I haven’t cheated on you!” I hoped that Yumi and Antonio had left. It was a big house, but the bedroom door was still open and we were shouting.

He breathed fast. “Why are you lying?”

“You can’t be serious. I think you’re so in your head, worrying what everyone else thinks about me and therefore about you. Why can’t you just believe me when I say that Stephen is a friend? Yes, he’s good-looking and yes, I had a thing for him, like, two years ago. But it’s not like that now. Stop reading the gossip rags and stop listening to your roommate and fucking listen to me.”

We glared at each other for another minute.

“Or is that it?” I gained control of my voice as I struggled with my temper. “You’re ‘just’ a college kid. You’re not a superstar. So you sell my photos to tabloids. You make money off of me, just like everyone else.” God, the photo. Couldn’t Alex see that by releasing the MVA after-party photo he was helping the Sassy–St. James narrative?

“I’ve never done that.” He squeezed his fists. “I just don’t understand why I’m not your date to these things. You’ve never asked me to walk the carpet with you. Why is that? Are you ashamed of me?”

I rolled my shoulders back and tried to breathe evenly. “My Gloss life doesn’t even feel like my life, Alex. It’s all out for consumption. You should be glad that you’re not a part of this fucking circus. I’m a commodity and everything I’m a part of is, too.”

“And he gets it.” He stated it; it wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, he gets it because he is a part of it too. Being handled by like five different people. Every move we make gets dissected. And if I gain an ounce, I can get kicked out of my promotional deals. No one wants to buy soda from a fat pop star.”

“You’re joking, right? Cassidy, you’re so thin now. Like, unrecognizable-since-high-school thin.” I shook this backhanded compliment off and he said, in a monotone, “So I’m not part of your image.”

I avoided his gaze and resisted the urge to pick at the smooth new polish on my thumbnail. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m protecting you. Protecting us.”

“What if I don’t want to be protected? What if I want to share this overwhelming, big-world shit with you?”

My lip twitched. “I don’t want this life for you. Hell, I hardly want it for myself.” There. A thought that had been circling the bottom of my heart had emerged.

“I’d do it for you. I don’t care. All I care about is you, Cass.” He didn’t say it, but I could sense it: the I love you.

A pause, but to both of us it felt like a year. “I wish you could be a part of it, Alex. I do. But I don’t . . . I don’t think that I feel for you the way you seem to feel toward me and I don’t want you to get mixed up in all this if it’s temporary.”

He looked as though I’d slapped him. Everything was quiet while he absorbed this news.

I murmured, “I’m sorry. I should have told you this sooner.”

When he found his voice again, it sounded strangled. His words made everything feel cold. “I don’t think I can be your friend anymore, Cass. It’s just . . . I can’t watch you with someone else, and I can’t fight for a part of your life when there are so many other things going on, vying for your attention. It hurts too much knowing that I’m not a priority to you.”

Breaking up with Alex was a given, but losing his friendship altogether? That hurt. I swallowed, wishing to suppress the lump in my throat that was giving way to tears. “Listen,” I said, voice wavering, “I know this is the worst timing ever. And I’m sorry. But someone is going to be waiting on me, and I can’t let him down.”

Alex stepped toward me, and the light on his shirt grew brighter as he came nearer. I was just in eyeline with his chest when he spread his arms and gave me a warm hug, an Alex hug. I was wrapped up in all of him, hands clasped in front of my heart, so I couldn’t hug back. Swallowing thickly, I pushed away from him and patted his chest. “Don’t,” I said. If he hugged me any longer, I’d break. I wouldn’t be able to fix runny mascara.

The front door slammed and there was the thump of enthusiastic steps on the stairs. “Sassy!” called a familiar baritone.