Arianna Smith's Arc

Chapter 14 of 23

The label's message sat on the piano. Kylie stared at it. Arianna knew what the label wanted—a statement, a photo, proof for cameras. But proof wasn't the same as love. Arianna had written Kylie a hundred letters. She had sung to her alone. Still, she had never once done the plain thing a real partner does. She had never taken Kylie out. "Put the phone away," Arianna said. "Not for them. For us." Her heart pounded. "Let me take you to dinner. Tonight. Just you and me. A real date." Kylie looked up. "You've never asked me that." "I know." Arianna's face went hot. "I hid behind songs. I want to sit across from you like anyone would." Kylie was quiet. Then she stood. "Okay. But somewhere they'll see us. If we're going to do this, I'm not hiding it." That scared Arianna more than anything. But she nodded. The restaurant glowed gold behind tall windows. Flower boxes lined the entrance. A butterfly shone above the door. Inside, a host led them to a small table near the candlelight. Two chairs faced each other, one red, one deep purple. Water glasses caught the flame. Arianna pulled out Kylie's chair. Her hands shook, but she did it anyway. Kylie sat and watched her the whole time. People noticed. Arianna felt the stares. A few phones lifted. Her old fear rose—the fear of being seen, of looking foolish, of being just a fan who loved a face. She almost looked at the floor. Instead she looked at Kylie. "I used to think loving you meant sending things," Arianna said. "Letters. Gifts. Songs. I never once sat with you and asked how your day was." She swallowed. "So. How was your day?" Kylie laughed. It was small and real. "Hard," she said. "Better now." They ate. They talked about nothing—Kylie's dog, Arianna's cat, the worst songs they'd ever written. No contest. No label. No stage. For the first time, Arianna wasn't a fan across a screen. She was a woman on a date with someone she loved. When the plates were cleared, Kylie reached across the candle. She took Arianna's hand where anyone could see. "This is what I was missing," Kylie said. "Not a song about me. This." Arianna's chest ached with something new. She had proved it. Not with letters. Not with lyrics. With a chair pulled out and a plain question asked in a room full of strangers. Outside, cold air hit them. Arianna checked her phone to call a ride. A photo already filled the screen. Someone had posted them holding hands at the table. The caption named them both. Thousands had already shared it. Kylie saw it too. She didn't pull away. But her jaw tightened. "The label wanted a statement," Kylie said quietly. "They just got one we didn't write."