Page 43 of Between Never and Forever

Olive shook her head. “Not that much skin. I wanted a Marilyn Monroe classic, not Big Bird fromSesame Streetat the club.”

Pink turned to assess me again, and we all saw the small smirk on her face as she tried her best to sell us a look that would never be received.

I slumped, looking at the mirror. “If I wear this at rehearsals, is it going to set a tone? And I shouldn’t just be changing my whole wardrobe when designers are already working on outfits. I’ll be overwhelming everyone, especially if we announce my engagement to Dex. I don’t want them to feel like all eyes are going to be on us.”

“Okay, well, don’t announce it, then. I still think it’s a terrible idea,” Dimitri jumped in to add.

“We already finalized the agreement with the record label.”

“We can get out of it.” Dimitri shrugged like he’d do anything for us and it wouldn’t cause a burden.

“Dimitri, it’s done.” I sighed and tried not to think about the fact that the Hardy’s legal team would most likely be looking over my contracts soon enough too.

It was only a matter of time before Dex saw how little money I made and how even that small amount was whittled away by my father claiming he’d spend it on my mother. I hoped to at least keep that part to myself.

I’d signed away most of my life. It was detrimental to agree to every little thing the record label asked of me but I’d done it for my family. We all did stupid things for family. And I’d do it again.

That was the hardest part. If Dex somehow found out everything and asked me, I’d tell him that I’d do it again and again. I did it for my mother and father. It’s what you had to do for family.

Now, I wondered if I could make it on my own and support them both, too, because I was going to try. I couldn’t stay with Trinity for a second longer.

Olive must have seen my despair because she offered, “How about we allow for a costume change at the end of the show, where you can sing new music, okay? We’ll fade the lights. It’ll be organic and low-key. Intimate—just the way you want. The dress can be low-key too. Maybe just a black one. It’s raw. It’s you in your bedroom at night, belting out your broken heart anyway, right? That’s not glamorous. And we want your emotion to showcase the songwriting, not the costumes.”

I took a deep breath and held my hand to my bare stomach. We could do this. I had to believe in myself. It would be hard and tiring and extremely fast-paced backstage to get this all worked out, but we could shift the performance structure and my brand.

“Or how about none of this is a good idea right now? It is fucking ludicrous to take this on, Kee.” Dimitri groaned and then pinched the bridge of his perfectly straight nose. I hated that every time I saw him, I was reminded of how good-looking he and his brothers were.

“Are we back to this?” I rolled my eyes and studied myself in the mirror, trying to understand how I could communicate a rawness and vulnerability, how to build that into my brand, and how to make it mine again.

“Yeah, because you rebranding and then trying to do it while being engaged to my brother, living here? It’s— I think you and Dex might kill each other.”

“Be realistic.” I waved away his concern.

“You realize my brother is going to come through that door and flip the fuck out when he sees you moved all your stuff into his room?”

“He wanted me to move in.” It’s exactly what I was going to say to him too. I then pointed to my purple bedspread. “I’m just making myself at home.”

“Did he say to do that?”

“I don’t care what he said.” I fluffed my hair in front of the bralette.

“It looks like a purple bomb went off in here.”

“Purple’s my favorite color.” I even had got my nails painted purple for Dom’s wedding. I didn’t have a problem showing it off. I had a purple painting hanging over the bed. It was abstract but sort of reminded me of a sad face. A purple throw pillow was nestled into the armchair in the corner. I’d arranged my favorite purple vase on the dresser.

“You don’t need this right now.” He had his hands on his hips.

“Whatever. Did you have to come over dressed like you were on your way to a meeting? Why are you fully dressed in a suit?” I pointed to Dimitri and curled my lip as I plopped down on the soft king-size bed.

“I was at work.”

Olive sat next to me and scoffed. “You look stuffy.”

“You look homely,” he countered, crossing his arms and staring down at us. “How do you even have the job of doing her hair when you can’t do your own?”

Olive just laughed, straightened the little Hawaiian flower in her hair, and brushed her curls out of her face at Dimitri’s barb because she had to have known it didn’t mean anything. They threw insults back and forth like they were playing ping-pong most days. She crossed her legs and leaned onto my shoulder. “Let’s be honest. I’m the only one who will put up with the ridiculous hair styles they ask me to do with Keelani’s hair.”

“Hey! My hair is easy.”