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Aliyah crossed her legs the opposite way. She could tell he was only joking, but still. Nobody ever asked her out like that. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

“I’m just kidding,” he said, shaking his head. His hair fell in his face again.

She scooted back in her seat and adjusted her dress. It surprised her how much she liked him already. Her actor side told her to stop. Her real side spoke instead.

“Do you happen to know an artist by the name of Aja Je?”

He grinned. “I do.” He pointed to the ceiling. “That’s her, right? Her latest? I actually started following her just before she joined your crew. I almost flipped when she did.”

Aliyah cocked her brow. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“I thought it was a good fit. My last girlfriend, back at school, she really liked her music. And, um, that girl kinda reminded me of you. So, it made sense.”

She heard the embarrassment in his voice. “I see. That kind of sounds like a lot to admit, doesn’t it?”

He chuckled. “Maybe, but if there was gonna be someone to tell, right?”

Although she tried not to, she chuckled with him. The boy confused her in the best way. She loved his energy. He fidgeted like a nervous fan yet spoke like a close friend.

“You know, if you have a demo or something, I might be able to slip it to her. See what she thinks.”

The moment she said it, she feared she’d gone too far. She was in no place to launch somebody else’s career right now. The shock on his face set off alarm bells. She expected him to celebrate. What she got confused her even more.

“Wow,” he whispered, “That’s really cool of you, but it’s not like that. I don’t have anything. I’m not a rapper. I just like rap. And you.”

Now she was the one shocked. Nobody ever turned down her connections before.

Tiffany pounded on the window after that. She yankedthe door open herself. Markus and Jamal stood behind her, folding their arms.

The boy slouched in his seat. “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that. Some of my fans just make them a little jumpy.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

He smirked like he knew. When she thought about it, he probably did.

“It was nice meeting you,” she said, pausing, furling her brow, “You know, I never got your name.”

“Kelvin,” he blurted, grimacing at himself. He said it better the second time. “It’s Kelvin. And thanks for this. It’ll probably sound really corny, but, you know, dream come true.”

She felt another flutter in her stomach. It wasn’t the first time a fan had said it; however, it was the first time she didn’t cringe.

Outside, Tiffany held the door open as wide as she could. The hinges creaked. She tapped her foot on the pavement while the boy climbed out.

“Everything you were hoping for?”

“Better,” he said, “You guys are awesome. Dream come true.”

She balked at the compliment. She handed his phone back by shoving it in his gut.

“Hey Tiff,” Aliyah called from inside. She leaned across the backseat to see out. “Do me a favor. Before he goes, make sure you get his number.”

Everybody did a double take.

“You can’t be serious,” Tiffany said through her teeth.

Aliyah sat up and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress. “Hey, Kelvin, are you free this weekend?”

“I am now.”

Her manager smacked the door. “You can’t be serious. He would be a P.R. nightmare.”

The two women stared at each other, not that they disagreed about the risk. They both knew how callous the industry could be. That was the problem. Nobody was calling, and it was starting to affect her acting.

“I can trust you, right?” she asked, addressing her fan as her real self, “If I let you in a bit, I ain’t gonna have to worry about you saying something, am I?”

Tiffany tried to interrupt but was shushed that time.

Kelvin shivered. “I know you like your privacy. I like your privacy, too.”

“Can we get that in writing? Since I signed something for you, maybe you could sign something for me?”

“An N.D.A?” Tiffany scoffed. “Babe, you can’t be serious.”

It didn’t matter how many times she said it, Aliyah wasn’t budging. She rarely second guessed herself. She pointed to the front to ask her manager to grab their tablet. They stored it in the glove box. Tiffany threw a small fit getting it.

“We’re having a party this weekend,” she continued, “It’s nothing big. We throw it every summer, kick off the season. Keep the weekend open. We’ll let you know.”

Kelvin didn’t move or speak. When Tiffany returned, he was bouncing on his heels. Her nails clacked against the screen as she brought up the document. She shoved it into his gut to sign. His hands trembled filling it out. He quadruple-checked everything like his life depended on it.

Afterward, her team climbed back in the vehicle. Markus and Jamal took the front. Tiffany got in the back, slamming the door behind her. Kelvin managed to keep his calm until they drove away. Inside, even with the music, they all heard him scream.

Scene 2: Her House Party