Meeting the family 2

Meeting the family 2
The tour was finally coming to an end.

Chicago was magic.

Four weeks into the tour, and the Chicago Theatre was the biggest venue we'd played yet. Eighteen hundred seats, all of them full, all of them on their feet when the lights came up for curtain call.

I'd made it through Seline's death scene without breaking, delivered every line with the kind of raw emotion that only came from months of practice and weeks of living out of a suitcase. The applause washed over me like a wave, and for a moment—just a moment—I let myself feel proud.

"We did it!" Tommy's voice cut through the backstage chaos the second I stepped off stage. He grabbed my shoulders, practically vibrating with excitement. "Anna! Do you even understand what just happened?"

"We... finished the show?" I laughed, still catching my breath.

"No! The MONEY!" He was grinning like a maniac. "Anna, I just got the biggest paycheck of my entire life!"

"Tommy—"

"I'M RICH!" He shouted it so loud that half the cast turned to stare. "I can buy my mom a house! I can—" He stopped, eyes going wide. "I can afford to eat somewhere other than dollar pizza!"

Despite everything weighing on my mind, I laughed. "Congratulations. You earned it."

The backstage area was pure celebration. Four weeks of grueling performances, sleeping on tour buses, living out of suitcases, and it had all paid off.

I should have felt triumphant.

Of course, I need to see Jamal's family, as his girlfriend, right.

Mark caught my eye from across the room. He was smiling for the first time since DC. Since Jamal had made that harsh joke. I am happy we could later get along.

He raised his wine in a silent toast. I returned it with a small smile.

At least that was healing.

"Anna?" Dwayne appeared beside me, his face bright with pride. "Incredible work tonight. Truly. You've grown so much over this tour."

"Thank you." I managed a genuine smile. "For everything. For believing in me."

"I didn't make you a star, Anna. You did that yourself." He squeezed my shoulder. "We should celebrate with the cast. You've earned it."

But I couldn't celebrate. Not when I have a lot of things ahead.

I made my excuses—exhausted, early flight, need to pack—and slipped away to my hotel room while the rest of the cast headed out to whatever bar they'd found.

~

Wednesday morning arrived too soon.

I woke at six AM in my Chicago hotel room, anxiety already twisting in my stomach. The red dress I'd chosen hung on the closet door, mocking me with its confidence.

You don't belong in a room full of billionaires, a voice in my head whispered.

I shoved it aside and reached for my phone.

A text from Daisy:

Daisy: CALL ME before you get on the jet. I mean it.

I smiled despite my nerves and hit her contact.

She answered on the second ring. "Finally! I've been waiting for you to wake up."

"It's six AM in New York."

"I know. I've been up for an hour worrying about you." I heard shuffling on her end, then a male voice in the background saying something I couldn't make out. "Shh, I'm talking to Anna."

I froze. "Daisy. Who is that?"

Silence.

"Daisy."

"Okay, don't freak out—"

"Who. Is. That."

"That's Jeffrey. My boyfriend."

I sat up so fast the phone nearly flew out of my hand. "YOUR WHAT?"

"We're not talking about me right now!" Her voice went higher, defensive. "We're talking about YOU and your fancy family dinner tonight!"

"Oh no, we are absolutely talking about you having a BOYFRIEND that you never mentioned—"

"Anna, focus!" But I could hear the smile in her voice.

"Daisy—"

"Red dress?" she cut in.

I looked at it hanging there. "Red dress," I confirmed.

"Good. You look incredible in red, and that necklace. " She paused. "Anna, you're going to be fine. Better than fine. You're Anna Chen. You're brilliant and beautiful and talented, and any family would be lucky to have you."

Jeffrey's voice came through again in the background, saying something that made Daisy laugh softly.

"I have to go," she said. "But Anna? Call me the second it's over. I want to hear everything. And I mean everything."

"Only if you tell me everything about Jeffrey."

"Deal. Now go knock 'em dead."

She hung up before I could say anything else.

I sat there on the edge of my hotel bed, staring at the red dress, trying to calm my racing heart.

~

The private jet was surreal.

This was different. Leather seats that felt comfy. A flight attendant who offered me champagne before we had even taken off. The windows were so large I could see the entire Chicago skyline as we lifted into the air.

A lot has changed, but it hurts without him watching me win, does he still care.

My life has become unrecognizable.

I touched the star necklace at my throat. And I was moving on.

~

Jamal was waiting when the jet landed at a private airfield in New Jersey.

The second I stepped onto the tarmac, he was there, pulling me into his arms like a kid who hasn't seen his mother in days.

"Do you know you are very beautiful" he said against my hair.

"C'mon Jamal." I smiled.

He pulled back, his eyes scanning my face like he was making sure I was real. Then he smiled.

I glanced down at the red dress. "I'm overdressed for a plane ride."

"You're perfect." He pecked me, soft and sweet and grounding. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."

And I meant it. Despite everything—despite the nerves and the anxiety and the feeling that something was off.

"Come on." He took my hand, leading me toward a waiting car. "We have just enough time to get to the hotel before the reception starts."

The car was as luxurious as the jet—sleek black sedan with tinted windows and leather seats.

I tried to calm my racing heart as we pulled onto the highway toward Manhattan.

"So," I said, needing to fill the silence. "Your cousin? The one who got married?". What are they really like?"

His face went carefully neutral. "We're not close. Haven't been for years. Family politics, you know how it is."

I didn't, actually. I never had enough family to have politics. Except drama.

"But you're going to this reception anyway?"

"My uncle asked me to be there. So I'm there." He looked out the window at the Manhattan skyline growing closer. "Besides, I wanted an excuse to show you off."

I laughed despite my nerves. "Show me off?"

The car slowed, and I looked up to see where we were.

And my heart stopped.

The St. Regis Hotel rose in front of us like a palace. Paparazzi lined the entrance, cameras flashing as luxury cars pulled up one after another.

Women in designer gowns stepped out of cars, dripping in jewels. Men in custom tuxedos.

This wasn't a family dinner. This was a spectacle.

"Jamal," I said slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. "How big is this reception?"

He looked almost sheepish. "The Santos family doesn't really do small."

I felt like a girl from a middle-class background pretending to be something she wasn't.

I felt like an imposter about to be exposed.

He kissed my forehead. "Ready?"

No. I wasn't ready.

But I took his hand anyway.

The driver opened our door, and camera flashes exploded like lightning.

Jamal stepped out first, then reached back for me, helping me out of the car like I was something precious. His hand stayed firm in mine as we walked toward the entrance, paparazzi shouting questions I couldn't hear over the roar of my own heartbeat.

"Mr. Santos! Over here!"

"Jamal! Who's your date?"

"Is this the new girlfriend?"

I kept my head up, my smile in place, my hand tight in Jamal's as we walked the red carpet.

Security checked our names against a list. One of them spoke into a radio: "Jamal Santos and guest arriving."

The massive doors opened.

And we stepped inside.