First Comes Like (Modern Love #3) - Alisha Rai Page 0,1
to straighten up. When one was five foot nothing in an industry where height was a conventional beauty standard, one grew accustomed to such comments. “Uh, thanks.”
“I love meeting influencers. I’m an entertainment reporter.” She named an outlet, but Jia had never heard of it. “Can we take a selfie, and can I tag you?”
Something else to delay her crashing a party? “Sure!”
“Oh my gosh, thank you!”
“No problem!” One of the big benefits of this industry was that she got to indulge her love of speaking in exclamation points. “Wait, move like this.” Jia scooted so the toilet stalls weren’t behind them, but a more flattering red wall.
“Ha, I forgot we were in a bathroom. Do you want to step outside?” the woman asked.
No, Jia did not want to step out of the protective force field that this bathroom was providing. If she stepped out, she might explode from anticipation and anxiety. “Fun fact. Bathrooms often have the best selfie light.” Jia feared her smile might be more strained than not, but the woman seemed satisfied with their pic.
“Thanks again,” the redhead enthused. “Are you going to the party? I’m covering it. Hoping to snag a pic with Richard Reese.”
“I am going to the party.” Jia hesitated. If she said the words out loud, maybe she could manifest it. “I’m hoping to meet Dev Dixit.”
The woman gave her a blank look. “I don’t know him.”
“He and his family are kind of legendary in Bollywood. Vivek Dixit? Shweta Dixit? Arjun or Rohan?”
“Nope, nope, nope, nope. Sorry, I bet he’s more popular for Indians.”
Jia could explain that she was Pakistani American and had known about the Dixit clan despite being not very familiar with Hindi cinema, but she had too much on her mind tonight to sweetly explain geography and the popularity of a foreign film industry to outsiders. “You’ll get to know him. Anyway, Hope Street is his U.S. debut.”
“Ooh cool.” The redhead glanced at her phone, her interest exhausted. “See you up there?”
“Yup.” She just had to . . . leave the bathroom and take the elevator up. Her new bathroom selfie friend made it look easy.
“You got this,” Jia whispered to her reflection, then bounced on her feet and lip-synched a few bars of Destiny’s Child. Surely if anything could get her motivated, it was Beyoncé telling her she was a survivor. She was gonna make it. She was a survivor. Keep on surviving.
No, that didn’t help. She had never felt like this before, terrified and excited and nervous. All those feelings separately, yes, she’d had them, but never all together.
Was this what infatuation felt like? Was this what she’d missed all those years when she’d been studiously avoiding distractions?
Jia pulled a wireless earpiece from the hidden pocket of her dress and stuck it in her ear. Then she navigated to her audio files and hit play on the latest one.
“Hi, Future Jia!” came her own cheerful voice in her ear.
If anyone knew that she taped affirmations for herself, she would die. Which was why it was a closely guarded secret, shared only with her twin.
Jia glanced around warily, but the bathroom was empty now. “You’re nervous,” said Past Jia, “and that’s okay. You’re meeting Dev face-to-face for the first time tonight, and that’s weird.”
It was weird, to feel like she’d connected so deeply with someone she’d never even been in the same room with.
“Are you scared you won’t feel the same connection when you’re physically in the same place?”
Yes.
“Are you scared you’re going to hate the sound of his voice? Or he’ll hate yours?”
Yes.
“Are you scared he’s not even real and this has all been fake?”
“No,” she whispered, with a conviction that she knew would cause her older, more cynical roommates to exchange a glance.
One of her many talents was stalking people on the internet, but there hadn’t been any stalking necessary here. Dev had messaged her from his official account. She wouldn’t have even responded to him if that blue checkmark hadn’t declared his authenticity.
You want him to be real so badly, it may be clouding your judgment. That was possible. He’d been kind to her for the weeks she’d been sick and the weeks after, when she’d been too fatigued to get out of bed. His words had given her something to look forward to while she’d been quarantined from her roommates, on the opposite coast from her family.
“It’s weird he’s being so hesitant about seeing you right now, which is why it’s even more important