By the way her mouth drops open and her eyes stretch like saucers, I’m guessing she has.
24
Lotus
I’m still freaking out that I get to see Grip in concert. When he came to New York last year, the tickets sold out in hours and I missed it.
I almost cried.
He’s one of the most woke hip-hop artists out there right now. His lyrics are conscious and thought-provoking. His flow, ridiculous. I can’t wait for tonight, but first, I have something to take care of.
When I enter the Gilded Bean, it doesn’t take long to spot myself on the wall. I stare dumbly at the life-size—no, bigger than life-size, since it’s about a foot taller than I am—photo. I know I’ve never seen this shot, much less signed a release for it.
I dip my head so my hair falls forward to cover my face. I stand right in the middle of the group, and no one connects the abandoned girl on the wall with the one huddling into her hair.
“I wondered when you’d come,” Chase says from right beside me. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“I need to speak to you alone,” I say, not looking away from my likeness on the wall.
“I’m pretty busy, obviously,” he drawls. “This being the first week of my exhibit.”
I turn to face him, every muscle in my body drawn tight. The struggle is so real right now. I want to pounce on him and pull that man bun through his ass.
“Fine,” I clip out loud enough for those around us to hear. “We can talk right now, right here, about how I’ll sue your ass for using this photo without my permission. How my lawyers will be—”
He cuts me off by grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the showroom and into a small office.
“Are you crazy?” he demands immediately. “Saying shit like that? You could ruin my exhibit.”
“I can still ruin your exhibit.” I shake my head, furious. “When did you take that photo? You know I never saw it, Chase.”
He watches me for a few seconds in silence, probably weighing if he can get away with some lie, or if he’ll have to tell me the truth. Finally, he blows out an exasperated sigh and swipes a hand over his handsome face.
“You fell asleep at one of the shoots.” His laugh is short and his eyes almost affectionate. “You had a project for school, I think. I went to get a piece of equipment, and when I came back . . .”
He gestures behind him, in the direction of the showroom on the other side of the office door.
“When I came back you were like that,” he says, crossing the room to stand in front of me. “I had to, Lo. You see how beautiful that shot is? How beautiful you are? How could I not take it?”
“You violated my privacy,” I reply. Quiet. Vehement. “Not only did you have no right to take it, but to show it? Without a release from me?”
“But I—”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand. “I didn’t come to hear your side of it, or how you’ve rationalized this to be okay. It’s not. I could ruin not just your show, but your career. You know that, right?”
“Wow.” He shakes his head, and a malicious smile contorts his lips. “You have a very high opinion of yourself, huh? To think you have that much power. That anyone would pay attention to a glorified fashion flunky.”
“I could remind you that this ‘fashion flunky’ is, for all intents and purposes, the right hand of one of the most powerful voices in fashion,” I say, barely controlling my anger. “Or I could remind you of, you know, the law, and how a lawsuit at this stage in your career would be devastating.”
I step so close our bodies almost touch. His breath comes heavy, and he swallows. I tip up on my toes to whisper.
“We both know what this is really about, Chase,” I say, making sure my lips graze his ear. He groans. “Pussy. Mine. And you being a spoiled little boy because you can’t have it anymore.”
I glance down to see his fingers twitching at his sides.
“You can barely breathe and are trembling to touch me,” I tell him. “You tell me who has the power here.”
“Lo, I can’t stop thinking