Page 87

“It’s not just her control over my schedule and wardrobe. She’s highjacked my life, made it something I didn’t want. Doing everything that she decides would make the most money and create the most fame.

“When I was fifteen, and she told me she got me a record deal, I was ecstatic. I wanted to sing and play and spread my music. Like most singers and musicians, I thought that was what I wanted. To land a record deal and hear my music on the radio. And for the first few years, it was. It was great. I wrote my music and sang what I wanted. Mom helped with wardrobe choices and handling all my bookings.

“It started so subtly that it took me five years to realize I had completely handed over all the control to her. When I was twenty, I wanted to create a new album with a new look, something I was very excited about. I took it to my mom and team, and they immediately shut me down and told me what I was to create. What would sell the best, and what the fans would expect. They convinced me I was wrong, and they were right, and I should trust them.

“Trusting them was my first mistake. But at that point, I was so far under their thumb if I tried to do anything, they would easily negate it before anything could come of it. That’s when I began to pay closer attention to everything. To watch and listen. Realizing I was just a tool and puppet for her to get what she wanted. My wants and desires had nothing to do with my own career.”

Lottie sighs and brushes her thumb over the polaroid she continues to stare at while she speaks.

“After that, everything became a task. I wrote and sang the songs they wanted, wore the clothing they chose, went to the events they rsvp’d to, and even dated menthey chose. My life was no longer my own.

“I still love to sing, but my desire to do so dwindled. I could never lose my love of music. It’s too deeply rooted in my soul, but performing was no longer what I want to do. A famous pop star is not what I want to be. It’s not what everyone thinks it is. At least not for me. It was lonely and depressing, with no possibility for a future of any kind other than the one she designed for me. No husband, no children, no happy home or family holidays. She wants me to work nonstop forever. Her perfect little workhorse.

“When I discovered my contract would be ending, I knew that would be my only opportunity. And talking with her wouldn’t work. It never has. I needed to escape, to be completely free from her and all the people she surrounded me with who did her bidding and didn’t care about my wellbeing, only their paycheck and compliance with her demands.

“Well, all except Luna, that is. She’s the only one who ever listened to me and spoke to me as a person instead of a machine made for performing like a wind-up doll.”

Finally, Lottie looks up to meet my eyes, and I remain quiet, waiting for her to finish. Somehow knowing she needs to get this off her chest.

Her expression is so raw and exposed, and I want to tell her she’s worthy of the life she always wanted, whatever that may be. Singing, performing, hiding out in my cabin, being my mate, having a family, or returning to Los Angeles. It’s her choice, her right to decide.

“I know it sounds so stupid complaining about being rich and famous, but that doesn’t matter when I’m not living my own life. I’m just a robot they programmed, and I just got sick of it.”

“Everyone’s life is different, Lottie. Yours shouldn’t be considered any less than another’s because your circumstances differ. Everyone deserves to be in charge of their own life choices, no matter who they are.”

Tucking Lottie even tighter under my arm, she lets her head fall to my shoulder. Her body fits perfectly against mine. The characters on the screen continue their journey down the yellow brick road, and we’re both silent for a brief moment.

“Thank you, Hunter,” Lottie whispers.

“For what?”

“For not calling me a whiny, entitled diva.”

“Why the hell would I call you that?” I blurt out a little louder than I intended. The fact that she thinks I would ever call her that is offensive.

“Because that’s what my mother called me when I complained about it to her.”

A growl of annoyance rumbles in my chest, and my jaw ticks. “Well, your mother isn’t worthy of being related to you.”

She giggles softly, and the sound subsides my growing anger. Her mother sounds like a total waste of space, and I’m glad she was able to get away from her. No one should be made to feel worthless in their own life.

~Lottie~

Even with my long-winded confession, it can’t ruin my night with Hunter. The movie, the stars, the popcorn, and sushi! I can’t believe he got me sushi. It could very well have been the best sushi I’ve ever had. But I think the best part is cuddling under the blanket with Hunter. His body radiates warmth, staving off the chill of the cooling evening temperatures. They won’t be able to do this much longer with the cold weather continuing like this.

After our little chat, we settled in to watch the movie. We’re about three-quarters through it now when Hunter breaks the silence.

“Would you be up for another surprise?”

I pop up like a jack in the box and stare at him like he couldn’t have asked a more redundant question.

“Of course, I would love another surprise. Surprises are my favorite.”

He chuckles. “Good. Um, this one is a little different from the others. But how would you like to be able to see all the non-humans in their true forms? Beyond their glamours?”

My jaw drops and just about unhinges.

“Is that possible?”