Dane
My head lifts off the pillow when the phone rings. With one eye open, I reach to where I’ve left it on the coffee table and stare at the screen.
Rose.
She mentioned earlier at the shoot that she wanted to talk, but I thought she’d call at a decent hour. Not at fucking one a.m.
“Yeah?”
“Good, you’re up,” she replies, completely missing that I’m groggy and still half asleep. “I thought we might have our little chat now?”
This woman’s a damn psychopath.
“Sure, what’s going on?” I force myself to sit up, then stand from where I’d been sprawled out on the couch. Otherwise, I’d doze back off mid-conversation.
“Well, this isn’t easy to say, but… I have concerns,” she says.
“Okay, like what?” I slip out onto the fire escape, so I don’t wake Joss.
“If I can be frank with you, it’s about your friend. Or, rather, it’s about the image you two portray and how it’s hurting your image in particular.”
I’m beyond confused, which is probably why my next question is kind of a stupid one. “You mean Joss?”
Of course, she means Joss, but how in the world can she possibly be bad for my image?
“Here’s the thing,” Rose sighs. “You’re sending your followers very mixed messages. One day you’re seen in photos with Joss, all over each other, looking like a happy couple. Then, that very night, there were pictures of your outing with Shawna—which she enjoyed very much, by the way.”
I don’t miss the shameless plug.
“It’s no secret you and Joss are sharing a place now, and they of course know you two are close friends and have been for quite some time, but… if you allow things to continue this way, people will never believe you and Shawna are anything more than friends. I think you understand that the idea of a relationship developing between you two benefits you both. Just one date and both your follower counts have gotten quite the boost.”
My brow gathers and I stare down on the street several floors below, wondering what her angle is here.
“Shawna is just a friend,” I point out.
Rose makes a strange sound on the other end of the line as she searches for the right words.
“Yes, maybe, but I think we both know there’s potential there for her to be much, much more than that. That is, if you make a few changes.”
“Changes,” I repeat. “Like cutting Joss out of my life.”
“Let me be clear,” Rose jumps in again. “I’ve got no personal quarrel with this girl. She seems lovely enough, but this is a dual issue, Dane. Yes, having people assume she’s a love interest is an inconvenience, but the real problem is that she comes with a bit of baggage.”
Those words have heat flashing up my neck, to my face. It’s way too late for this shit.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Rose is silent, maybe processing having been talked to this way, but she crossed the fucking line way before I did.
“I see I’ve hit a nerve,” she says in a hushed voice. “While I certainly didn’t mean to ruffle your feathers, I won’t take back what I’ve said. As your brand manager, it’d be remiss of me not to warn you when I see you making mistakes. And like it or not, your close ties with Josslyn Francois are a mistake.”
“I—”
“Her father’s recent affair—or should I say affairs—have painted their family in a very unfavorable light,” she cuts in to say. “And as I’m sure you know, I have worked very hard to make sure the public separates you from your father’s misfortune. Have I not?”
I don’t say a word, because if I do, it’ll only be to cuss her out.
“Now, while you’re thinking on that, imagine how being associated with Joss might cause people to again associate you with scandal, at which point it would be very easy for them to recall your father’s misgivings, and let us not forget your ties to the notorious Ruiz family.”
My blood’s boiling. She’s pulling at threads now. Yes, my father is the illegitimate son of Augustin Ruiz—the city’s most nefarious kingpin—but most are either unaware of or unconcerned about that connection because my brothers and I don’t bare that last name.
“Speaking of, that missing cousin of yours—Ricky, is it? Has he turned up?”
She doesn’t ask out of concern. Instead, this is another attempt to remind me of all the shit she’s covered for me, in the name of rebirthing my public persona.
“He’s not missing,” I say through gritted teeth. What I won’t tell her is that we know exactly where he is and will never breathe a word of it. He went away to avoid the fallout after my father got caught, but I’m sure he’ll return when the heat’s off him and the rest of the Ruiz family.
Until then, I ain’t saying shit.
“You’ll have to forgive me if I’ve crossed the line,” Rose says, trying to sound sweet, but failing. “I only mean to help you put things into perspective, see them from angles you aren’t accustomed to.”
“I’ve heard you,” is all I say.
She’s quiet, maybe holding out hope for more of a response than that, but that’s all she’ll get out of me. She’s lucky I didn’t just tell her to kiss my ass and then end the call. That’s sure as hell what I should’ve done. What stops me is remembering her reputation of being a juggernaut in the industry.
She’s so focused on me coming across as wholesome and stable, she’s lost sight of what matters most. That people remember I’m human. And being human means there are imperfections, mistakes to be made, corrected, and learned from. I won’t let her turn me into a robot, but she’ll find that out soon enough.
“We done here?” I ask, hearing the frustration in my own voice.
Rose clears her throat a little and I imagine that pinched mouth of hers turning down.
“Yes, I suppose we are, but let me leave you with this. Sometimes, people have to choose, Dane. They can either cling to what’s important to them now or embrace what will certainly be important to them in the future. It’s rare that anyone can have both.”
In this scenario, my friendship with Joss is clearly that thing Rose believes I’ll have to eventually let go of, but that just proves she doesn’t know shit about me. Joss is the one and only thing in this life I’ve wanted consistently. Every single moment of every single day, since I first laid eyes on her when we were twelve.
“I’ve gotta go.”
I end the call there, not giving a shit if she’s upset, because I’m disgusted—with her, our conversation. I’d never leave Joss or anyone else in the dust to protect my image, to get endorsements, or any of that shit Rose gets wet for. It’s fucking ridiculous to even think about it.
What kind of asshole does she take me for? A gullible one, I guess. Which is probably why she thought her lame speech would work on me.
If Rose wants me to choose, then the fucking joke’s on her.
Because I’ll always choose Joss. I did back when we were kids, and I still choose her today.
End of story.
