By the end of the day, every major media source will cover it. Fans are going to see this plastered all over every social media platform,” she continues.
“But…it can’t be that big of a deal,” I reply. “I mean, all this shit usually dies down within a few weeks anyway.”
“Not this,” she refutes. “For Andrew, sure, but not you. Obviously, you’re the woman in this scenario. And now, everything you ever do is going to be related to your relationship with him. Ten years from now, you’ll be getting questions about Andrew Watson in interviews. This is going to be Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake all over again, but without the denim, honey. You’re going to be tied to him no matter what you do, and your fans are going to judge and his fans are going to be pissed at you and it will really start to get bad once this ends and he gets involved with another woman.”
Once this ends? My mind fixates on those three words.
But Candy isn’t worried about that. She’s worried about my career.
“From here on out, any love song, sad song, breakup song, happy song, any fucking song you write is going to be spun to be about him.”
Dear God.
This is information overload.
I mean, I knew it wasn’t good that those photos leaked, but I didn’t think the consequences of a relationship with Andrew Watson could last years into the future, even if we don’t work out. Especially if we don’t work out.
“Birdie, you still there?” she asks and I nod, but then I realize she can’t exactly see me nodding.
“I’m here, but I need to go,” I lie. “I’ll call you back in a little bit.”
“Birdie, wait. I need to—”
“Candy, I’ll call you back,” I say firmly and hang up.
“Sweetheart?” Andrew’s voice makes me look up from the phone. He still stands by the hotel phone but has made no move to make his planned calls for room service and flight switches. He steps toward me with concern in his blue eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Someone took pictures of us last night,” I whisper, and he furrows his brow.
“What? Last night?”
I pull up the article again and hold it up for him on my cell.
He takes the phone out of my hand and starts scrolling through the article. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Pretty sure this isn’t a joke,” I comment. “Well, actually, I’m the joke. I’m the woman who has fallen into your player trap.”
“My player trap?” Andrew glances up to meet my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that my publicist is freaking out about the consequences of this.”
“Why would she be freaking out about this?”
He really doesn’t get it.
I guess I can’t blame him; I wasn’t exactly understanding it all myself.
A shocked laugh jumps from my lungs, and I point to the stupid article on my phone. “Because I’m the new gossip laughingstock, Andrew. Another notch on your bedpost. Your next jilted lover. Soon-to-be writing breakup songs about you like Taylor freaking Swift!” I exclaim, each word getting me more amped up by the second. “Good God, this is exactly why I wanted to keep this a secret!” I toss my hands up in the air, and I begin to pace the hotel room.
Way to go, Birdie! Looks like the sex cat is officially out of the bag.
What in the hell am I going to do now?
I know I’m fixated on very selfish, career-motivated things right now, but I can’t help it. I’ve spent the last several years working my ass off to get where I have. I’ve played in what feels like every single bar and venue and stadium across the country. I’ve maintained a schedule that’s so busy, free time is basically nonexistent.
I’ve made a lot of sacrifices to get here.
And now, my publicist is telling me that because of this, because of those goddamn photos, everything I’ve worked so hard for, everything I’ve strived for, is now going to play second fiddle to being Andrew Watson’s latest conquest.
Andrew
Everything is fucked, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.
Birdie is quite literally freaking the fuck out over an article her sister sent her this morning. And when she had a quick phone call with her publicist, it only made shit worse.
Apparently, her entire team is convinced that her being connected to me in the press is only bad news for her career. And their negative commentary does nothing to help calm