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With a large iced coffee, Tiffany stepped onto the balcony. The house bustled more than usual for a Thursday. A breeze blew in from the north that afternoon. It smelled of pine and freshly cut grass. The air from the north always smelled nice. The south stunk of smog.

She slipped off her sandals before sitting at a table. The sunlight bathed the deck without a cloud in sight. The table’s umbrella offered some much-appreciated shade. She sipped on her iced coffee to stay cool. Her head still hurt from last night.

The birds chirped in the trees below. One of the neighbors mowed their lawn down the block. She sang to herself while simply enjoying the quiet. The view of L.A. never got old.

Like usual, the solitude didn’t last. With a dull ping, her phone buzzed from the waistband of her shorts. She still had on her pajamas. She groaned to herself then set her drink down.

The message read in all caps. They posted a link at the bottom. She stood up the moment she tapped in.

Is Aliyah Gavins slumming it?

An article came out earlier that morning. Some tabloid posted a short piece about Aliyah at The Dome. Pictures showed her dancing on Kelvin like a skank.

Tiffany sneered. “Brian.” She skimmed the article as she hurried inside.

In a sultry night out… was the one putting on the show… the mysterious man, or should we say boy… wearing a skimpy tank-top and skintight… in his thrift store best…

Barefooted, she raced through the house, focusing on her phone and the hallway.

A source close to Aliyah… and says he’s just a fan… as rough as it’s been for the actress… see her sink so low… after she chopped her hair… the rebound guy or just the guy between jobs… may be too juicy to resist… how will she dodge the spotlight, now?

Tiffany stormed into the gym then grimaced. It stunk of sweat. Equipment filled the room. Somebody jogged on the treadmill. Markus was benching in the squat rack. Aliyah lay on the floor in the far corner. She held her legs in the air to work on her core. Her bright pink shoes peeked over the machines.

She sat up and took out her earbuds when Tiffany appeared beside her.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “But we have a problem. Brian leaked some photos of you with Kelvin. His little sidepiece at the Starbeam ran an article about it. The story’s already circulating.”

Aliyah cursed then climbed to her feet. She pulled a towel off the rack to dab her forehead dry. “What’s it say?”

“A couple things. For one, they know Kelvin’s a fan. They didn’t mention him by name, but they called him a groupie.”

She smirked, grabbing a set of weights.

“They think you’re spiraling, like this is a call for help. They noted how you cut your hair and implied that you might not be over Logan.”

She scoffed then lifted her weights overhead. “Hardly. We dated for like a month. Hell, I’ve been seeing Kelvin longer.”

As she worked out, Tiffany opened the article on her phone. While she read, she received another text with the same link. One of her eyebrows twitched.

“They were actually harder on Kelvin,” she said, “To be honest, he’s my biggest concern.”

Aliyah paused, holding her weights over her. “You’re concerned? In what way? Do you mean for him, or about him?”

Tiffany lowered her phone. “For him. I can admit it. He’s been good for the house. I just feel like I’m being left out here. The article assumes you’re dating, and I don’t even know.”

Aliyah resumed her lift, working her arms like pistons. “No, Tiff. We’re just friends.”

“Okay, but does Kelvin know that? In the bathroom, could he have said something different?”

“I highly doubt it. That boy puts himself in the friend-zone.”

“Well, you were dancing on him pretty hard. The pictures don’t exaggerate that.”

Aliyah clenched her jaw, pushing through another rep.

“I hate to cut your workout short, but I don’t think this can wait. We need to talk damage control.” Her phone buzzed a third time. “Like, right now, before this gets out of hand.”

Aliyah dropped her weights onto the rack. Markus put his bar back at the same time. He slammed it into the squat rack with a harsh clang.

“Post the article,” Aliyah said once the room quieted, “Let’s get ahead of it. Put something like: can’t a girl dance at a concert? It was a private concert after all.” She stretched her shoulders then cracked her neck. “Say he’s a family friend, like my sister knows him.”

“Are you serious? You want to lie?”

“It won’t be a lie. I’ll call Dom and let her know. She can meet him online. She’ll probably love being roped into my drama.”

Tiffany hated that idea. Dominique was Aliyah’s half-sister. She lived with their dad back in North Carolina. She didn’t share the Gavins name, but she still used it. She called herself an influencer. Tiffany called her a leech.

“Mention the show,” Aliyah continued, “Make it a promo piece. Say we were celebrating my new role. That part’s at least true. The director said he doesn’t mind me talking about it. In the meantime, I’ll get ahold of Laura and schedule a meeting.”

“Okay, not bad. What about Kelvin? Do you think he can handle it?”

“I think so.” She grabbed another set of weights. “I can also coach him if he needs.”

“And what about long term? You said he goes to school out of state. Is he going back in the fall? Is this just a summer thing?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Tiffany started tapping her foot. “Okay, can we be sure of that? I just don’t see him leaving if you two spend the whole summer together.”

“But it’s his dream school,” she said with a grunt, “And he hates L.A.”

“Okay, what about later? When you’re working? Does he know how steamy this role is? Things get pretty hot, pretty fast.”

“It won’t come up. Season doesn’t even air until he’s back at school.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t see something. What about promotions, interviews, trailers?”

She huffed, her arms shaking. “He won’t care. He supports my career.”

“You can’t be sure of that. Babe, we can’t have another guy throwing a jealous fit.”

“He won’t—”

Tiffany stomped. Her phone kept buzzing. “Damn it, Li, stop working out!”

She gasped then slammed the weights back onto the rack. The metal clanged, echoing through the room. She put her hands on her hips to catch her breath. Both women needed a breather.

“What do you suggest then, Tiff? I like him. I don’t want to lose him. Not yet.”

“And you don’t have to. I just don’t think you two should get any closer. It’s too risky. What I suggest is, once the show starts, you drift. Dive into the role. You do anyway. If he really supports you, he’ll understand. And like you said, if he fights at all, we’ll boot him.”

Aliyah paced in front of her, nodding.

“We also have The Fourth coming up. After that, we’ll be busy with the show. Summer should fly by. Before you know it, things will be back to normal, and you won’t be stressed about bills, or the house, or tabloids.”

Aliyah stopped pacing and pulled her towel off the rack. She dried her forehead then dabbed around her neck. The disappointment appeared to weigh more than the weights.

Tiffany checked her phone while her client cooled down. Notifications flooded in from social media. Texts filled her inbox. She even had to send one call to voicemail. She began drafting their response immediately.

“You know,” Aliyah said, sitting at a bench, “I actually had a surprise for him.”

Tiffany looked up. “You were gonna buy him something?”

“No, nothing like that. It was Aja’s idea. She wanted me to bring him by the studio. See what he could do.”

“She was gonna put him in a song?”

“Nah, nothing so serious. Just, you know, hang out, have some fun. Seems like too much now, doesn’t it?”

The treadmill thudded in the background. The person ran on their heels.

“I think a date like that,” Tiffany said, choosing her words carefully, “As harmless as it might seem, would only serve to pull him a lot closer. You did just see him.”

Aliyah hung her head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”