Page 65 of The Music of Us
“It was seven minutes. And they were the best ones of my life.”
I genuinely couldn’t tell whether they were joking or not. “Are you guys always like this?”
“Like what?” Three eerily in-sync voices stopped mid-argument to ask.
“Like...” I shook my head, trying to find the right vibes to put into words. “Chaos. Hijinks city. Herding cats.”
“Oh. That. No.” Aspen shook his head. “Most of the time we’re worse.”
“There are four of us,” Leon reminded me. “And Phillip and Aspen are usually bickering.”
“Ugh,” Aspen said, wrinkling his nose, “don’t talk about Phillip.”
“Right, so, about that,” Jake began, while Aspen groaned, apparently already seeing where this was going. “We’re picking him up from the airport now.”
“You owe me,” Aspen groaned.
Jake shrugged. “Get in line.”
***
Phillip Maan looked even prettier in person than he did on-screen. While most travelers stumbled out of the airport looking worse for wear, with tired eyes and comfy clothes, Phillip strode out the sliding glass doors and toward my car in an all-designer getup like the sidewalk was his own personal runway.
All right, fine. I could see why theWhat’s POPpinwriters dubbed him the Real-Life Prince Charming.
But he didn’t just look like a Disney prince; he carried himself like a royal everyone had their eyes on.
And heknewit.
“Lucy, is that you?” Phillip questioned as he slid smoothlyinto the front passenger seat. The scent of his decadent cologne filled the car. I resisted the urge to lean forward and sniff him. He smelledexpensive. “Thank you for picking me up from the airport,” Phillip said courteously. If his accent sounded good over the phone, it sounded even better in person directed right at me. Perhaps evendreamier. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem,” I replied, going for a normal sentence instead of what I was really thinking, which went something like,Wow, you look exactly like the Ken doll I once had when I was seven, and now I feel kind of bad for letting the café cats chew on his plastic legs.“It’s the least I could do.”
“You look exquisite,” he gushed. “Even the ultra-HD cameras on my Maxbook Seven could not do you justice.”
Then he reached over, took my hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kissed the back of it.
Something snapped loudly in the back seat and I heard a slight yip of protest from Aspen. It might’ve been Jake breaking one of Aspen’s glowstick bracelets in half.
“You don’t have to say the specs when you’re not in public,” Leon reminded Phillip.
The sight of his bandmates seemed to jolt Phillip back to reality.
“Sorry,” he said, reaching up to run his hands over his face. “It just slipped out. I was up shooting adverts till about one in the morning last week. I’m still reciting the script in my dreams,” he admitted, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll snap out of it. Eventually.”
His honesty made him seem a little less polished and larger than life. For the first time, I caught a glimpse of the real boy beneath the charming veneer.
“Hi, Leon,” Phillip said, swiveling to look into the back seat. “Hi, Jake.”
“I thought I said to come in casual clothes,” Jake said.
“Thesearemy casual clothes,” Phillip argued. “This is Louis Vuitton’sstreetwearline.”
Aspen snickered. “Where’d you come from? Paris?”
“Yes, actually,” Phillip said, giving Aspen’s garish outfit and glowstick accessories a bombastic side-eye. “Where’d you come from? A Party Warehouse clearance sale?”
Aspen snorted. “It’sgreatto see you again, Phil,” he said sarcastically, making Phillip scowl. “Phillis. Philly. Pip. What’s up, man?”
