We stand close to a potted plant, which shields half of our bodies from the narrowed lenses.
“Not exactly,” Lo says. “Connor tried to explain it to me. I think we’re just going to be filmed every day, and they’ll play footage from the previous week.” Oh. There’ll be a small delay then, almost live. Most shows are filmed months in advance, and the shooting wraps before the first episode ever airs.
But we’re still filming while the show plays on television.
I think it’s just going to make everything crazier.
“Hiding out?” Ryke asks, nearing us from the bar with a can of Fizz Life and a plate of Swedish meatballs.
“Maybe,” I say. My stomach grumbles at the sight of the meatballs. I’ve been so nervous all day about the viewing party that I forgot to eat.
“Come to join us?” Lo asks with a half-smile.
“Yeah,” Ryke says, giving Lo the Fizz Life can and then he hands me the meatballs. For me? I smile so much. Before I can thank him, he adds, “If I have to listen to Sam Stokes talk about Fizzle’s product placement for another minute, I’m going to fucking shoot myself.”
Lo’s lips rise, and he laughs. “Maybe you should take notes.”
In the center of the room, Poppy’s husband converses with my dad, a handsome smile on Sam’s face, his hands gesticulating as he speaks. My oldest sister stayed home with Maria, just to shelter her from the cameras.
“What do you mean?” Ryke asks, running a hand through his hair. He wears an expensive suit jacket with a regular shirt underneath like Lo, tailored perfectly for their bodies.
I kind of want to take the shirt off Lo though and slide my hands across his abs. Maybe later, I think as I chew my meatball.
“I know I don’t fit into this.” Lo motions towards the ballroom and the fancy decorations: gold-leafed lilies, daisies and roses as high-table centerpieces. “But you stick out even worse than me.”
“It’s true,” I nod.
Ryke extends his arms. “I’ve been to events like this one before. I’ve told you both that.” Plus he attended Fizzle’s soda unveiling with me about a year ago. It was just as glamorous.
“You look kind of angry,” I add and scrunch my nose to illustrate.
Ryke frowns. “Are you constipated?”
“No.” I relax my face.
“Then what the fuck are you doing?”
He’s so mean. “Exactly,” I say, not making much sense. But he demonstrated how rough around the edges he really is.
I don’t think anyone has approached him this whole time.
“People don’t have to like me,” Ryke tells us. “I am who I fucking am.”
Lo takes a swig of his drink and pats Ryke’s back with more affection than dry humor. “I guess we’ll find out how well people like you after the show airs.” Then he turns and snatches one of my meatballs by the toothpick.
“How was that thievery for you?” I ask him.
He washes the food down with his soda. “Illicit,” he says with the wag of his brows. I punch his arm and he actually winces. For real this time. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’ve been lifting weights, remember?” I flex to show him my bicep muscle （still tiny, but a bigger tiny than before）。 The cameras go wild behind me, flashing crazily, and I immediately drop my arm and roast.
“You mean that dinky weight that Ryke bought you?” Lo asks.
Ryke no longer pays attention to us. He focuses on Daisy across the room, who’s being chatted to death by our mom. I should go rescue her…but a run-in with my mom—who acts like I’m a daughter, twice removed—is not high on my list of things I want to do.
Lo waves his hand in both of our faces and we sufficiently face him instead of the gathering crowds. “Maybe we should just bail?” Lo tugs at his collar. He has a point. We’re standing in the loser’s corner with slightly sullen faces, despite a good laugh here or there. And I’ve only thought about bathroom sex once.
Definitely a success on that count.
“Fine with me,” Ryke says.
“No,” I end up declaring, surprising even myself.
Both Ryke and Lo stare down at me like I’ve grown a unicorn horn.
“Rose needs us,” I explain. Across the ballroom, my sister stands next to Connor while he schmoozes some business people. This show is for her, mostly. A little for Fizzle’s reputation. But we’re all here and participating so Calloway Couture will survive the blowback of my sex scandal.