The Journalist and Her Actor

Chapter 16

"Where Luke Walker showcases his musical talent, playing electric guitar with grace that only a professionally trained Walker can, demonstrating one of his MANY gifts, Em Springs is the true star of the night, snatching the spotlight like a punk rockstar right out of a 2000's edition of BOP magazine, her bright pink highlights and dark clothes only the icing on the cake to her stage presence and killer voice." Carter grinned, eyes still on his phone after reading one of a dozen gossip columns out loud. 

"Looks like karaoke went well," Carter said, turning his smile up to me.

I yawned, pouring myself a cup of coffee before joining him on the couch, the morning sunlight warm against the material. Fighting a smile, I took a long sip out of my glittery unicorn mug. "What's the verdict?" I asked in what I hoped was a casual tone.

Carter snorted. "You wrote one of these articles, didn't you?" 

I shot him a look. "And what about all the other articles that you've been reading?" 

He grinned. "You should read them. You sound awesome." 

I ran my fingers along the unicorn design. "Who won, Carter?" 

Carter smiled. "It's killing you not to know. Sooooo competitive." 

I knew already, I just wanted to hear him say it. "It's soooooo much more satisfying hearing the sweet words of victory come out of someone else's mouth."

"Cocky much?" 

"Dramatic pausing much?" I replied. 

Then I stood up and stretched, not doing well to hide how self satisfied I felt. All the gossip columns— which didn't matter— had declared me the karaoke winner and it was hard to refrain from dancing around the house while listening to "We Are the Champions."

The article I had written had done more to praise Luke than myself, but by the time my boss had finished with it, I was once again painted as a wanna be super star, but at least hadn't accused me of any more petty crimes. "A shadow to the star that is Luke Walker," were her exact words. "A glow worm to a bone fire. Nothing but a pretty small thing."

I had received a single text from Dawn, my oh so wonderful boss at two AM this morning when the article went live. "It's just business kid. Better that we paint you poorly or they'll know you are working for us and that would kind of ruin the point of it."

Needless to say, seeing that every other article concluded that I won, made the headline of XOXO Daily Gossip sound ridiculous. 

I ignored that most articles also went into my clear chemistry with Luke. "A rivalry that left viewers waiting for the day that they just admitted that they wanted each other and did something about it."

"You don't need me to stroke your ego, Em. Everyone knows you won." Carter's gaze traveled towards the window. "Why do you think the crowed outside this morning is so much less..." he trailed off. 

"Unhinged?"

He smiled. "Yeah." 

The smile which had been so difficult to find since the paparazzi's arrival left me driving on air as I braved the crowded street that morning, pulling the paparazzi sharks along with me to give Carter and Tate— who had become his getaway driver— a chance to enjoy a somewhat normal drive to school.

The shouting, the flashes, the cars that followed me and Dawn's words in the article did little to ruin my mood. My brother seemed happier, and that was enough for me.

...

There is something entirely daunting about a recording studio. You go from a world of noise, to a world of silence. Silence feels far more vulnerable than noise. For one thing, noise makes it hard to hear yourself think. To hear the wants and desires inside of you. To fully understand and face the fears that sit in the shadows of your mind.