American Superstar: Drop The Mic by Shay Paris

Author:Shay Paris [Paris, Shay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bethany Shay Porteous
Published: 2024-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

“I’ll miss your face!” Jesse crowed as he pulled me in for a tight hug. “We’ll be back the day before New Year’s Eve. You know there’s still time for you to come with us.”

“I’ll miss you too,” I murmured as he squeezed the air out of my lungs. “I think it’s going to be good for me to have some alone time.”

“Take care, Len,” Todd said, giving me a one-armed hug and a wink. “Enjoy your quiet time in Gracie’s studio. Everything is going to pick up after Christmas. We have a tour to get ready for.”

Excitement at the thought of the tour fluttered through me, and I gave him a grin. “Hopefully, I have an album in time for that – if all goes well.”

After a few more hugs from Jesse, the duo left, and I closed the door behind them, taking in the silence of the apartment. It was the day before Christmas Eve, and nearly everyone I knew had taken off to see family, leaving my social calendar empty – a relief.

My bags were already packed – the heating had blown in the apartment, and Gracie had generously offered that I stay at her house while she and Ashley went on a Christmas trip. I wouldn't turn my nose at living in five-star luxury for a few days. She had even allowed me free access to their music studio to play around.

I set about preparing the apartment for a few days of vacancy. Unplugged anything from the wall except the fridge, ensured all the doors to the rooms were left open, and ensured nothing in the fridge would spoil. After emptying the trash, I washed my hands and glanced at my phone on the bench.

No messages from my mother at all.

Michael had called to wish me a happy holiday and asked if I had heard anything from my mother. I hadn’t, but I knew what they would do for Christmas. They would attend the Christmas Eve service at Holy Revival and the Christmas Day service. They would host a dinner where Michael and his fiancée would attend, and potentially some out-of-town relatives.

I shivered at the image of Uncle Ben at the dinner table.

No thanks.

I scooped up my travel bag and glanced at the apartment before locking up and heading down to my car. I paused to breathe in the chilled air and the silence of the complex—no more nosy paparazzi outside my gate anymore. I had even started returning to my favorite smoothie shack without being ogled.

It had been annoying being photographed leaving Frankie’s apartment. The photo hadn’t been very flattering either, so that also sucked. I threw my bag in the back seat and got in the car. My phone dinged with a news alert, and I frowned, scooping up my phone and groaning loudly at the headline that blasted me.

American Superstar contender tells all. From rigged auditions to fed lines – how much is real?

Robyn smiled angelically at the camera under the subheading, Mom and Singer – how does she do it?

I grit my teeth at the smug look on her face.

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