Arianna Smith's Arc

Chapter 17 of 23

Friday came fast. The press event was held at a tall hall where writers built scripts for plays and songs. Small bell chimes hung by the door and rang when Arianna pushed inside. Kylie walked beside her. Camera people crowded the stage. A label rep in a gray blazer met them with a stack of pages. "Here's your script," the rep said. She handed Kylie the pages and barely looked at Arianna. "Kylie, you sit center. You talk about the song, the tour, your life. The fan stays off-camera. We say she helped a little. Keeps it clean." Arianna felt her stomach drop. The fan. Not a partner. Not a name. She read over Kylie's shoulder. Her part was one line. She was a nobody who got lucky. If she stayed quiet, that was the story the world would keep. Kylie frowned at the pages. "This isn't right. She co-wrote the song. Her name is on it." "It tested better this way," the rep said. "Trust us." Arianna thought about every letter she never got answered. She thought about walking a mile to that mansion gate. She had stopped hiding behind links and colors long ago. She would not hide now. "No," Arianna said. The rep turned, surprised she'd spoken. "I'm not off-camera. I'm not a little helper. I wrote half those words. I'll say so myself." The rep's smile tightened. "That's not the plan." Kylie set the pages down on a writing desk. "Then change the plan." She looked at Arianna, then at the rep. "I got burned before by someone who worked behind my back. I know what a lie costs. I won't sit on a stage and lie about the person I live with." The rep crossed her arms. "The label controls the narrative." "No," Kylie said. "We do. Point the cameras at both of us, or we walk out and tell the truth in the parking lot." A long silence. The bell chimes stirred in a draft. The rep looked at the crew, then at the clock. She tore the script in half and set two chairs center stage. "Fine," she said. "Both of you. Don't make me regret it." Arianna sat beside Kylie under the lights. A camera light blinked red. The host asked who she was. This time no staffer blocked her. No rule buried her voice. "My name is Arianna Smith," she said. "I wrote her letters for years. Now I write songs with her. We live together. I'm not a hanger-on. I'm her partner." The crew wrote it all down. The story was hers now, said out loud, on tape. Afterward, the rep caught them at the door. "That clip is already spreading," she said. Her voice was flat. "People are asking the next question. They want to know if it's serious. They want to know if you two plan to make it official."