“What’s going on?” Carson demands.
Spencer steps forward. “Minor issues. Being resolved as we speak.”
Jazmyn is near hyperventilating, though. “Minor?!” she screeches. She’s nothing like the flat, sarcastic, unaffected starlet we had brunch with. She’s freaking the fuck out.
Toni and Kyleigh gather on either side of her. “It’s gonna be fine, Jazzy. We got you.”
Jazmyn’s wide eyes flick between the two supportive women, but she shakes her head. “This isn’t meant to be. King’s Krossing is down a member, that crowd is insane, and Steve can’t find my lucky rabbit’s foot. I can’t perform without it.”
She’s shrinking back right before our eyes, and I seriously consider whether she might make a run for it. Luckily, I don’t think those boots were made for walking, much less running. Hell, I’d break an ankle just standing up in them, so hopefully Jazmyn can perform in them. Because she’s going to. She’s got to.
Spencer speaks calmly and clearly, sounding equally in charge and motherly. “Steve will find it. We’ve got three people looking.”
That’s at least one issue addressed.
“What happened with King’s Krossing?” I ask.
Toni answers, “One of the kids is grounded.”
“From performing?” I look at her wide-eyed, hoping she’s kidding. “That seems a little extreme, right?”
Toni shrugs. “His mom isn’t budging. Said he knew he had to pass Geometry if he wanted to perform, and it was his choice to not study for the exam. You gotta admire her dedication to education . . .” She trails off, not looking sure whether the punishment fits the crime. “I do have an idea, though.”
“What?” Jazmyn grabs Toni’s shoulders, getting right up in her face. I vaguely wonder if she’s going to bite her. Maybe that’s how she got that smudged lipstick? Has anyone actually seen Steve? Or this rabbit?
“It’s crazy, but . . .” Jazmyn gives Toni a little shake, but Toni laughs. “I could do it. I know the whole routine, have done it roughly a thousand times, and have experience on stage.” It’s a small brag, but right now, it seems to reassure Jazmyn a little, given the way her eyes brighten.
“No.” Carson’s refusal is instant and final.
Except . . .
“Where have you been on stage?” Spencer asks Toni directly, not letting Carson’s ‘no’ bother her in the slightest.
“I’ve been in dance classes since I was a kid. My mom’s a dancer, you know?” Toni smirks because everyone knows that about Izzy. “Look.”
Toni pulls her phone out of her pocket and clicks around until her social media comes up. Turning the phone around, we all watch as Toni perfectly does the King’s Krossing dance to Jazmyn’s song . . . in her bedroom.
“That’s not quite the same thing,” Spencer says carefully. “How many takes did you have to do?”
But Jazmyn’s nodding her head. “That’s okay. It’ll be good to have a familiar face up there.”
I guess Jazmyn, Toni, and Kyleigh have become faster friends than I thought because the three of them are having one of those eyes-only three-way conversations now.
“Toni?” Carson meets Toni’s eyes. “Are you sure? This is risky. If something goes wrong, you’ll get slayed with this many eyes. And if it goes right, they’ll still say you got the gig because you’re family. There’s no winning here.”
Toni rushes to Carson, slamming into him in a fierce hug. “Thank you for looking out for me, Bro, but I got this.” She pats him on the chest and praises, “And good job on slang usage. You even used ‘slayed’ correctly.”
“What? I just meant they’ll kill you,” he mutters, confused.
Issues handled, all eyes turn to Jazmyn. She’s quiet for a minute, listening. The crowd out there isn’t chanting her name any longer. Instead, they’ve started singing her songs without her. It’s . . . moving, actually.
“My rabbit foot?” she says in a small voice.
“Fuck it,” I hear from behind me, and then Taya shoves me out of the way. She’s in boss mode now and gets right up in Jazmyn’s face. “Look here, girl. You don’t need no dead animal bits for luck.”
“But—”
Taya’s look of disgust is obvious even with the heavy silver face paint. “Your so-called luck?” She makes air quotes with her ridiculously long nails, which I now realize are also silver, with little bits of mirror glued all over them. Gotta give her credit, she really knows how to embrace a full look.
“It’s inside you. It’s called work. You’re the one who stayed up all night practicing songs, pouring your energy into lyrics, and learning how to play piano so you could be better. That ain’t luck. You earned that” —she points behind her to the crowd behind the stage curtains— “with work. So get your shit straight and get out there! Do what you’ve always dreamed of. This right here is your moment, and you damn well better take advantage of it. Because if you don’t go out there, I sure as fuck will.”