#Moonstruck_A #Lovestruck Novel

by Sariah Wilson

  “I am the very definition of slick,” Ryan said, his eyes twinkling. “Subtle. Totally mysterious.”

  “You are unmysterious. Obvious.”

  He wouldn’t give in. “I am an enigma.”

  “Not even a little.” He was such a guy.

  “Maisy, what about this one? So pretty!” Angie showed me Ryan’s phone. She’d continued going through the dresses while Ryan and I bantered. It was a full-length chiffon gown with a bodice that resembled a halter top. It had beautiful crystal-and-silver beading not only on the bodice itself but also on the crew neckline, which almost looked like a giant, sparkling necklace. There were two delicate jeweled straps that crisscrossed in the back. It was the perfect mix of “I rock out” and “I’m a girl.”

  Best of all? It was the same pale green as my eyes. I loved it. “This one. Tell them this one.”

  Only a minute after he pressed SEND, there was a reply. “The designer, a woman named Erika Chang, is going to come by later tonight and do a fitting.”

  We pulled up to the theater’s private entrance and ran past the waiting paparazzi to get inside. A man who introduced himself as Pablo gave Angie and me passes to wear. He said there would be a barbecue in the back of the theater at lunchtime, along with a craft-services table set up backstage. Then he told Ryan to follow him. Ryan kissed me too quickly, promised to see me soon, and was off.

  “What now?” I asked Angie. I didn’t want to come across like some pathetic groupie. Even if Christa Harbinger had just walked by and I almost passed out from the thrill of seeing one of my idols in person.

  “I’m worried that if we wander around backstage, we might piss off the wrong diva and get kicked out. I vote we sit out front and watch.”

  We were not the only ones to do so. A lot of the people appeared to be journalists or bloggers, ready to share their experiences at the rehearsals and what the stars would be doing two nights from now.

  A boy band was currently onstage, discussing the logistics of their set while their dancers stretched and gabbed. As they started their sound check, I turned to Angie.

  “You never did tell me what happened with you and Fox last night.”

  She kept her eyes trained on the stage, her mouth twisting. “We ended up staying at the restaurant until it closed, and they had to kick us out. Then he drove me home, and we stayed in the driveway all night, talking. I never realized how much we have in common. Or how much I enjoy hanging out with him.”

  “Seriously? That’s amazing!”

  She let herself smile. “He asked to see me again tonight. I said yes.”

  “I’m so happy for you.”

  “I guess some part of me feels bad. Like I’m betraying Hector, even though I know I’m not. Fox actually gets that. It makes it easier that he loved Hector, too.”

  “I get to pick out my bridesmaid dress. You’re not sticking me in some neon-orange monstrosity.”

  “Stop,” she said, nudging me with her arm. But she was still smiling.

  The boy band finished, and five more acts ran through rehearsal. Some I knew better than others, but it was fun to get a behind-the-scenes look at the process.

  I sat up straighter when Ryan finally came onstage. Even though I’d spent so much time with him, he still exuded that charisma and magnetism that made him impossible to ignore and resist. Like if the music thing hadn’t worked out for him and he’d become a long-distance truck driver, he’d have a different woman waiting for him at every truck stop.

  Then Skyler Smith glided onstage. She was a tiny, curvaceous, platinum blonde and absolutely stunning. She looked like the kind of woman who got dressed every morning with the assistance of animated woodland creatures.

  Skyler gave Ryan two air kisses. Which I was totally fine with.

  Fine-ish with.

  Then she wrapped her arm through his and stayed put, resting her head against his upper arm.

  That was my bicep she was leaning on.

  Jealousy just about crushed my windpipe.

  “I always like when people carry their dogs around in their purses,” Angie said. “Makes it much easier to spot their crazy.”

  I’d been so focused on how that . . . that . . . wannabe man-stealer was touching my boyfriend that I hadn’t even noticed her yappy Chihuahua in her oversize bag.

  “Maisy? Are you okay?”

  “Why is she hanging on my boyfriend?”

  “I’m sure they’re just friends. It’s not something you need to care about.”

  I did care. A hundred and crazy percent. Because if Skyler Smith didn’t control her whoremones and get away from my man, I was going to have to knock out America’s Sweetheart.

  “They dated,” I reminded her.

  “For like two seconds. It probably wasn’t even real. Like a publicity stunt or something.”

  Did she mean like how Ryan and I started out? That did not help.

  Ryan ran through “Be With You,” and it made me think of the music video, which helped relieve some of my anger.

  That Skyler perched on a box in the corner of the stage did not.

  “Let’s grab some lunch. It’s about time.”

  That was probably a good idea. I didn’t particularly want to see Skyler’s rehearsal anyway.

  It took us a little while to find our way to the back, given that most of the crew members were unhelpful (since we weren’t famous), and we didn’t dare speak to any of the music stars around us. I had to hear Skyler singing in that nasally, breathy baby voice that set my teeth on edge.

  Finally, we found the back exit of the theater. The barbecue was set up in a courtyard, surrounded by thick, high bushes. I wondered what they normally used this area for. Angie and I stargazed a little bit, pointing out some of our favorites while trying not to be obvious. So much talent gathered in one spot!

  Then, probably after making some people uncomfortable, we decided to check out what kind of food they offered. There was almost a line of demarcation between two tables—food for regular people like chips, soda, and hamburgers; and food for famous folk, including quinoa, lettuce, and kale.

  “If vegetarians love animals so much, why do they eat all their food?” I asked Angie, filling my plate.

  A voice behind me said, “Maybe you should try it. Veganism, I mean. It looks like you need it.”

  I turned to see Skyler Smith glaring at me, flanked by two very tall, very thin women. She was attempting to insult me. Why?

  “I’m not interested in being vegan or vegetarian. Thanks anyway.” She sucked at insults. I was happy with the way I looked. The whole thing was random and weird. I was about to say as much to my best friend, but Skyler kept talking.

  “Why? Do you have something against vegetarians? Ryan is a vegetarian.”

  Since she’d brought Ryan into this, she must have known we were together. But why would she care? Although he ate a lot of vegetables and other weird stuff, Ryan was not a vegetarian. I’d seen him eat plenty of meat.

  “I don’t have anything against vegetarians or vegans. Cows are vegans, and I love them.”

  Skyler gasped, and I remembered that she was super into animal rights. “The only thing cheaper than your sarcasm is your perfume. Until human beings start seeing animals as our friends and not as a food source, there’s no hope for us as a species.”

  “Seriously? Just how many cow friends do you have?” I was starting to enjoy myself, but Angie looked horrified.

  “Meat is murder.”

  “Then I’m about to commit a homicide. I’d like one burger, please.” The man stationed at the barbecue slid a patty onto my plate. “I have something for you, Skyler. It’s called go away, and it’s located somewhere not here.”

  She crossed her arms. “Ryan will never end up with some nobody like you. He needs a woman like me on his arm. Someone with millions of followers who will get him all the publicity and fame he needs for his career. Your little band has no fans.”

  “Untrue. We have a fan.” Jo
e. It was weird that she seemed to know things about me.

  “The only fan you have is on the ceiling.”

  I wondered if she hurt herself coming up with that one. “We’re outside. That might have been a solid burn if we’d been indoors.”

  Her face turned slightly red. At first I couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment. I quickly discovered it was anger. “I am going to dedicate my time to ruining you. I will say whatever lie, spread whatever rumor, do whatever I have to do to destroy you and your career. When Ryan sees how much you’re dragging him down, he’ll beg me to take him back.”

  All of Ryan’s fans already hated me. I couldn’t see where Skyler adding to it would do much more damage. “Do you have a life goal to be a James Bond villain? You’re just going to spell out your whole evil plan for me? What do you think’s going to happen when I tell Ryan what you’re planning to do? Because I will tell him. I even have a witness.” I pointed at Angie.

  It was like that thought hadn’t crossed her teeny mind. “Whatever. You’re not even worth my time. I’m leaving because I can’t stomach another second of being around that dead flesh on your plate.”

  To add to her whimsical unkindness, she called me some names a woman should never use against another woman.

  “I understand why you have to rush off. I’m sure you need to get back to luring children into your gingerbread house.” Now I was annoyed, mostly by the inappropriate name-calling. Why did America love her so much? She was horrible.

  “I would have smacked her, but I didn’t want to get skank on my hands,” I muttered to Angie.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve witnessed that much girl-on-girl crime. I can’t believe how awful she is. I always thought she was so nice.”

  We walked in the opposite direction from Skyler and her crew and found a table.

  Angie smiled as she sat. “Now I wish Ryan had been here. To personally witness how possessive you are over your man.”

  I finished chewing a bite of my extremely delicious hamburger. “He doesn’t belong to me. It’s not like he’s the box set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She is awful. Don’t you remember what she did to Katsia Evanovich?”

  Angie pursed her lips together and shook her head.

  “Katsia and Skyler had some kind of falling-out, and when Katsia released her debut album, Skyler released her own secret album the same day. To kill Katsia’s numbers.” Katsia’s album had failed, and she hadn’t put out another song since.

  Even though I’d blown off her threats, remembering what she did to Katsia made me reconsider. What if she did the same thing to me? Singled out my band and me and did everything she could to wreck our careers? She had a lot of influence. Not only with fans but also with important people in the music industry. It would kill my brothers if she ruined our chance before we even really had one.

  It would kill me.

  “Are you going to tell Ryan?”

  “At the first opportunity.”

  Maybe he would be able to undo some of the damage that Hurricane Skyler was about to inflict on me.

  I didn’t tell Ryan right away. The next couple of days were a blur. When he wasn’t working, Ryan took me on multiple dates. Out to eat, to a private beach, even to the movies. (He’d had to rent out the whole theater so our date wouldn’t be interrupted by someone trying to steal a lock of his hair.)

  I even got the chance to introduce him to my mother. Who flirted shamelessly with Ryan. It was humiliating, but he was amazing about the whole thing. I wished she understood, and would remember, how important he was to me.

  Erika Chang, the designer, came and took my measurements. She reminded me a lot of myself. Just starting out, determined to make a name in the fashion industry. I was excited to wear the dress and to tell everyone that she had designed it. She promised to get me some shoes and a purse, too. She had everything delivered by messenger.

  Then it was the night of the US Music Awards. Ryan offered to hire someone to do my hair and makeup, but given that I’d done actual training in that sort of thing, I felt like I had a good handle on it. I did my eye makeup heavier than normal, wanting to emphasize the color. As for the rest of my makeup, considering all the bright lights that would be there, I made it more stage appropriate. I had originally planned on leaving my hair down, but given that the dress was basically backless, I put it up in a braided chignon. Which is much easier to do on someone else than it was on myself.

  When I reached the top of the stairs, Ryan was waiting for me at the bottom. Smiling up at me like some hero out of a movie. My heart stopped entirely and then started slowly with a low, hard thudding. He wore a slate-gray, perfectly tailored designer suit and gave a whole new meaning to the word delicious. His five-o’clock shadow kept him from looking too preppy, lending him a slightly wild edge. Made him a little bit rock and roll. He was just so perfect-looking. Like he’d been artificially created and brought to life by some mad spinster scientist. He turned my knees hollow. I grabbed the bannister for support.

  “Wow. Look at you. I’m unable to form a single coherent thought,” he said, his eyes devouring me.

  “You just did.”

  “That’s the only one. Everything else in my brain is just . . . wow.”

  I knew the feeling.

  We had a limo for the event, and, given his current expression, I warned Ryan not to mess up my makeup on the car ride over.

  “Not even a little?” he asked.

  “It’s my first red carpet, and I’m already nervous enough. I don’t want to have to worry about that, too.”

  So he settled for kissing me on my neck and shoulders, which I did not object to.

  We waited in a line of limos, giving me time to get more and more nervous.

  “You’ll be fine. They’ll love you,” Ryan said in between kisses that were not nearly as soothing as his words.

  Then it was our turn.

  “Follow my lead.” Ryan got out first, and I could tell the moment the crowd figured out it was him. The screams were deafening. He held out his hand to me, and I took it.

  Photographers’ flashes surrounded us, making it hard to see. Ryan pulled me up the red carpet, waving and smiling as we went. I clung to his arm, feeling like I’d entered some undiscovered country.

  Reporters from television shows called out his name, and Ryan stopped for the one from ET. Janelle something.

  “Ryan! So good to see you out here tonight. Who are you wearing?”

  “I don’t want to talk about that. Have you met Maisy Harrison? Of the band Yesterday?”

  Only the slightest flicker on Janelle’s face let me know she wasn’t pleased to be pushed in a new direction. “I haven’t. Maisy? Gorgeous dress. Who are you wearing?”

  “Erika Chang. She’s an up-and-coming designer.”

  “Maisy and her band are opening for me on my Moonstruck tour.”

  Recognition lit up her eyes. “This is the same woman you’ve been rumored to be dating?”

  He put his arm around my waist. “Yes.”

  Janelle asked, “Ryan, what can you tell us about your next album?”

  But his response was “Thanks for chatting with us,” and we moved on.

  The same thing happened with every other reporter. Ryan refused to talk about himself, about the tour, his upcoming album, or his soon-to-be released single. He wanted them to talk only to me and ask me questions.

  Which completely threw me. I wasn’t ready for that. I thought I’d just be on his arm, smiling, nobody caring who I was. Instead, Ryan made me the focus, and I hadn’t been trained to give interviews the same way he had.

  Like when they asked me to tell them about my hobbies. My answer was “Other than music and Ryan? Feeling inadequate, eating chocolate, and napping.”

  I faced question after question until I felt dizzy. We finally reached the end of the line, where there was one reporter determined to flag us down. She had a microphone that said MTV.

  “Maisy! Over
here!”

  I don’t know if the word had spread, but she cleverly called out my name instead of Ryan’s, ensuring that he pulled me right over to her.

  She made small talk, asked me how the tour was going. How long Ryan and I had been dating.

  “Ryan, when did you know that Maisy was the one for you?”

  If he wouldn’t answer questions about himself, he had no problems answering them about me. “The first night I laid eyes on her, I knew she was special. I’ve never met anyone who challenges me or understands me the way she does. It didn’t surprise me when Maisy became the most important person in my life. Or when I realized how much I love her.”

  He looked down at me with total love and adoration in his eyes. My heart fluttered and flapped all over the place, like it wanted to break free of my chest and hug him.

  “What about you, Maisy?”

  “The first time I laid eyes on him, I did not know he was the one.”

  That made Ryan laugh and kiss me on the forehead.

  The reporter was relentless. “So when did you know?”

  I thought about all the things Ryan had done for me. Kept my mom in Century Pacific. Took me and my brothers out on tour, paying us a ton of money to live out our dreams. How he made me laugh. How comfortable I felt with him. How he’d given me someone to talk to about music in a way that I never had before. How he carried me out of the club my dad played in. Rushed me to the hospital after the bee sting and stayed by my side. How he confessed his love to me, and even tonight, when it should have been his chance to shine, his chance to drum up publicity, he instead focused the spotlight on me.

  The realization that I’d been in love with him for a long time hit me harder than an egg to the head.

  “I don’t know if there was just one moment. It’s been more like a bunch of little moments all combined together that made me love him.”

  Ryan’s reaction seemed to happen in slow motion. I watched the different emotions cross his face—surprise, confusion, doubt, and then total and complete joy. “You love me?”

  “You already know the answer.”

  Before I finished the last word, his mouth was on mine, demanding, grasping, desperate. As if he’d been waiting impatiently for this very moment, and now that it had arrived, he couldn’t contain himself. Fiery stars exploded in front of my eyes, forcing me to squeeze them shut, to sink in and savor the feel of his kiss.