Risky Business

Fuck it.

I’ve done enough worrying about image and reputation and what everyone else thinks, especially Dad. I’m doing what I want. She told me to trust my gut, and that’s what I’m doing. I take her hand, squeezing it tightly. She answers with a side-eyed grin that I can only see in my peripheral vision because I’m trying not to draw attention to what’s happening between us. But I can feel her giving in to us.

Jazmyn hits the chorus, which is a forceful combination of screaming and singing. I’m honestly not sure where she’s getting that much power from. She’s relatively small, but I think her voice could fill the whole park, even without a microphone. She’s got the audience in the palm of her hand.

The lights on the stage shoot out over the Great Garden in flashing patterns, creating energy and movement and showcasing the crowd. It’s a sea of neon glowsticks, light-up hula hoops, glow in the dark costumes, and signs with Jazmyn’s name.

Fireworks go off overhead, and there’s a collective gasp from the crowd before everyone oohs and ahhs. It’s beautiful, and totally unexpected, to be honest.

“I didn’t know about that,” I yell to Spencer, who’s smiling bigger than I’ve ever seen before.

“I like to go above and beyond,” she shouts with a no-biggie shrug. But we both know this is a huge deal and a sign of what she’s capable of when given free rein. Maybe strictly following the traditions that Dad put in place decades ago hasn’t only been holding me back, but others as well.

“In budget? Permits?” I clarify.

She dips her glasses down her nose to scowl at me. “Of course.”

I can’t help but smile, and with a flashed thumbs-up, I say, “Great job, then.”

Smugly, she goes back to watching the fireworks, which are spectacular. Bright streamers of light shoot up into the sky en masse, a finale, but the show’s not over. Jazmyn finishes the song, and then, breathing heavily, she sits down on the edge of the stage. Her heavy boots swing as though she’s a child in a too-big chair as she talks to the audience again.

“You know, Starr-Lights, back when I was posting stuff online and praying I’d get a single like, there was a special group of people who heard something in one of my songs that made them want to dance.” The crowd cheers loudly, knowing that she’s talking about King’s Krossing. “They created choreography to the song, and when they posted it, their dance went viral, taking my song along for the ride. So when I got the invitation to come to hashtag-AmericanaLandFreedomFest, I wanted to bring them along on this ride.”

Damn, I could hug Jazmyn right now! She just threw out our whole hashtag in the middle of her speech about the most anticipated song of her set. I know that live streamed. I meet Jayme’s eyes, which reflect the victory I’m feeling too, and feel her shaking our entwined hands in delight.

“So . . . welcome to the stage, King’s Krossing!”

The dance group takes the stage, running in from the other side. A few of them do tumbling passes, and I worry about the stage setup, not wanting them to run into an amp or guitar. But they land safely and take their places, waving at the crowd, who’s going mad and shouting individual dancers’ names.

“I also want to welcome a special friend, Toni Steen, daughter of Ben Steen, CEO of Americana Land.” Toni runs out too, her smile wide and both hands waving in the air. She looks completely at ease, and a knot in my chest slowly starts to unwind. “Sometimes when you meet someone, you automatically know that they’re going to be a ride-or-die friend. That’s Toni. I met her yesterday and we’re already besties!” Jazmyn laughs and hugs Toni before they stand together, posing for a quick picture by the front-row photographer.

The audience cheers. I even hear a few people shout, “Hi, Toni!”

“Okay, let’s do this!”

The music starts with a heavy bass drop, and Jazmyn skips around the stage. Toni takes her place in the line-up, and King’s Krossing starts clapping, hyping everyone up. Jazmyn’s too active, singing too close to the microphone to make every word crystal clear, but the crowd knows them by heart and sings along. As King’s Krossing and Toni start doing the dance steps, I can see the audience doing them too. It’s like a massive flash mob scene.

“Wow!” I shout.

“I know,” Jayme yells. She lets go of my hand, but it’s only to clap along. And though we don’t know the song, the words, or the moves, we party along with everyone. Even Spencer sways back and forth a little bit. Kyleigh is doing a watered down, and slightly off-beat, version of the dance, but she’s having fun too.