17

17

#Rendall

"GODDAMMIT, RYAN," Kendall mutters to herself as she looks at her neck in the mirror. There were hickeys—lots of them along her neck and chest that she hadn't noticed earlier.

She blends foundation onto her neck, cursing herself for already being late. After covering her neck and chest with makeup, Kendall exits her apartment and heads to her car. She still wasn't used to driving the Mercedes, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to it.

As she enters the trendy café, a man who looked as if he were in his early twenties spots Kendall and waves her over. He had wild curly brown hair that fell just above his shoulders. He quickly stands from his seat and pulls out Kendall's chair. She sits as she places her laptop on the table along with her journal, and he sits back in his seat.

"Hey," he smiles, a friendly energy radiating off him. "I'm Tristan."

"I'm—"

"Kendall," Tristan finishes. "A simple, yet beautiful name. It means 'the Kent river valley', which is a river in the west of England—a beautiful place, really."

"You travel?"

"Whenever I can. It helps me with inspiration, which brings me to the next topic of conversation: what inspires you, Kendall?"

Slightly surprised, Kendall leans back in her seat. She wasn't sure about what inspired her. She always knew she want to sing, but she didn't know where the idea had came from. Singing was just something she knew she was passionate about, and it didn't really need an explanation.

"I actually don't know," Kendall admits.

Tristan smiles a bright, gleaming smile at Kendall. "Of course, you do. You just haven't unearthed it yet." He leans forward in his seat, interlocking his fingers. "Who is Kendall Morgan? What are you about?"

Kendall didn't know what these questions had to do with songwriting, but she answers anyway. "Well, singing—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Tristan interrupts. "Singing doesn't define you. When I look at you, I see a hard-working young woman who values the opinions of others, but maybe a little too much. Since you got here you've presented yourself to me as someone who's well-put together, but I can tell that there's so much more to you than a sophisticated individual."

She didn't know why, but Kendall could feel herself getting annoyed. Who was this guy and who was he to think he had Kendall all figured out? What he said was true, but that was beside the point.

Opening her laptop, Kendall responds. "I came here to write a song, not to be told who I am."

The corner of Tristan's mouth turns up. "Okay. It just helps me to understand who I'm working with."

Shaking her head, Kendall puts her head in her hands. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed because I've been working for this for so long, and I don't want to mess up."

"It's all right. With songwriting I've found that it's easier to let loose."

Kendall nods. "Ask me another question."

Tristan thinks for a moment. "What do you value most?"

★

When Ryan turned eighteen, he had learned that humans (specifically his fans) were a judgmental species. For people that claimed to love him, they sure were passive aggressive. But he was used to this by now. So that's why he wasn't shocked when he discovered his so called fans ripping on his girlfriend. They always got so riled up whenever Ryan was with someone new.

Ryan didn't understand why people were so angry about his relationship with Kendall—they barely knew him. And it wasn't like their relationship was affecting anyone.

Ryan clicks out of Kendall's page, which had a dramatic increase in followers.

"Dude, have you seen the tag yet?" Ryan's costar, Hanna, asks him.

Ryan shakes his head and tosses his phone on the vanity in front of him. "What tag?"

"Hashtag Rendall." She hands Ryan her phone. Displayed on the screen was pictures of Ryan and Kendall, either edited or real.

"At least some people are supportive," Ryan says, handing back Hanna's phone.

Through the mirror, Martha makes eye contact with Ryan and purses her lips. "People always wanna have an opinion on something," she says as she plucks Ryan's eyebrows, her Southern accent lacing her words. "It doesn't matter if they know you or not; they still think they know what's best."

"And the media doesn't make it any better," Hanna adds.

Ryan's phone rings and he answers it. "You've seen it."

"Of course, I've seen it. How could I not?" Kendall sighs through the phone. "I had to disable the comment section on my page because it was so bad."

"I'm sorry," Ryan says.

He really did mean it. No one should ever have to go through what was happening to Kendall. If Ryan could do something about the toxic half of his fan base, he would. For Kendall he would. But there was nothing he could do, and he hated that.

"You don't have to apologize. They'll get over it eventually." Kendall pauses. "So, my mom called me."

"What'd she say?"

Another pause.

"That she wants to see me. She sounded pretty stressed on the phone, so I booked a flight."

Ryan furrows his brows. He thought Kendall didn't have a good relationship with her mother. Why would Kendall want to see her after all she's done? It just didn't make sense. And Ryan didn't want Kendall to leave. Why couldn't her mom just fly to LA?

"Why would you fly to Georgia? I thought you and your mom weren't on speaking terms." Despite Martha's protests, Ryan stands from his seat and walks outside of the hair and makeup trailer.

"Yeah, but she's my mom. Plus, I miss my dad."

Ryan didn't care. He only cared about Kendall staying with him. And what if she decided that she missed Georgia enough to move back?

"After all your mom's put you through, you're just gonna go back? And what about the song you have to write?"

"It's not like I'm going back forever, Ryan," Kendall says. "And Tristan and I are almost done with the song. We actually work pretty well together."

Tristan? Who the hell is Tristan?

"Ryan, you better get in here because there's only ten minutes till set," Martha calls out from the trailer.

"We'll talk later."

"Okay."

Ryan hangs up and opens a search engine, then his contact list.

"Yes, Mr. Hughes?"

"Andrew, I need you to do a background check on Tristan Price, who works at Golden Shoes Records."

©2019 Brianna Loriston

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