Page 24 of When I Picture You

“The sea monkey and I are pretty close friends.” Nash and Lola’s platonic chemistry was what made the PR relationship believable. Their fans didn’t need to know that their bond was lessyoung loversand morehuman sacrifices commiserating on the altar. “You should interview him.”

“An interview with your fake boyfriend is already on the list.” Renee flipped back to the first page of the schedule. “Or should I say, yourcurrentfake boyfriend? What about that guy fromYou’re Next!? Didn’t you date for like five years?”

Lola bit back her exasperation at Renee’s tone. If Renee was truly curious about Lola’s love life, she would have hung around themorning after instead of bolting during the five minutes Lola spent in the shower.

“Three years, and his name is Kyte,” Lola corrected. She and Kyte had met as contestants onYou’re Next!Her second album was all about falling in love with him, and her third processed their breakup. “That was real. He still gets death threats from fans who think he cheated on me. The truth is, we both realized we wanted other things.”

Renee leaned in across the table, eyes narrowing. “You mean you realized you wanted p—”

“Renee!” Lola blushed so fast and intensely, it was as if her cheeks had caught fire. She pressed her lips together, deciding, then said cautiously, “Actually, I’d known since high school that I was interested in … what you’re asking about.”

Saying it out loud had her heart racing hard enough to make her a little dizzy. Lola could count on her fingers how many times she’d explicitly come out to someone—certainly never in a public restaurant.

“You did?” Renee said, her eyebrows popping up.

“Yes. Not that it’s relevant, because that’s not going in the film. Gloriana would never in a million years approve it.”

The mention of an authority figure reactivated Renee’s teenage sensibilities. Her expression rumpled. “Why would she need to?”

“Because she’s the executive producer, and my manager.”

As she said it, Lola’s ribs tightened with embarrassment. She didn’t want to explain how the industry worked to Renee, who had only barely grasped the situation with Nash. Lola’s life wasn’t like Renee’s. Lola couldn’t just be whoever she wanted—well, be whoever she truly was.Lola Graywas a business as much as a person. There were optics to consider, sales, her image, the reaction on social media, the fans, her label, and the impact on the dozens of people who depended on her for their livelihoods.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lola said.

Renee’s eyes were fixed on her. In this light, Lola could see gold threaded in the green. “You do?”

“I have a”—Lola checked the room and hushed her voice further—“fake boyfriend and I’m not, you know,honestabout who I am. Don’t try to tell me you like my music, because I know you never have, and you’re already regretting that you’re making a movie about my life when it’s so—sostupid.”

When Lola finished speaking, her napkin was twisted in her hands, below the table where Renee couldn’t see it.

Renee scoffed instead. “Your life’s not stupid, Lo.” She brushed the schedule to the edge of the table. “Thatis not your life.”

Lola went still.

“These are setups, and you didn’t come up with them. You’re right that I don’t really want to film you trying on clothes or smelling swimsuits or whatever. Because that’s not who youare.”

Lola’s throat felt thick. She longed to ask who Renee thought she was instead.

“What I want to know is what storyyou—the real you, Lo Grigorian, not Lola Gray—want to tell,” Renee said.

Lola wanted to laugh. The irony was that fundamentally, she wanted to tell the same story that everyone else on her team did: the writing and recording of Album 5. Unless she started writing songs in the next few weeks, the film crew would be watching her career implode instead.

Gloriana already suspected something was wrong. A month ago, she’d mentioned there were people she could bring in if Lola needed help. Everyone used ghostwriters, Gloriana said, and she had someone who could write in the Lola Gray style so seamlessly, Lola would forget she hadn’t written the songs herself. Then, it had taken all of Lola’s overdeveloped sense of self-control to simply say,No, thank you. I promise things are moving along.

The truth was, she’d rather never perform again than pretend she’d written someone else’s words. It wasn’t just her integrity. Lola’s music was at her core. Writing and performing her songs was the only thing that made her feel truly like herself, without any compromises. Free. Without that, there was no Lola Gray. There was barely a Lo Grigorian.

“I guess I’m not sure what I want,” Lola finally said.

“That’s okay.” Renee set her forearms on the table. “We can find the story together. Right?”

Thatweseemed to mean something different from when Gloriana said it, and for a moment Lola allowed herself to hope. Even if this ended in disaster, at least she had Renee on her side.

“Right.”

8

The first day of shooting, Renee pulled her rental car up to the gate of Lola’s house in the Hollywood Hills. She was so exhausted that she almost couldn’t feel the anxiety thrumming in her chest, her stomach, the palms of her hands.