Founded on Goodbye by Kat Singleton
The next month flies by in a simple snap of my fingers.
One moment we’re still learning all the dances at the studio, and the next we’re going through a complete dress rehearsal.
We had a few weeks of twelve-hour days. Performing on the stage was almost like learning the dances from scratch all over again. We have the main stage, and then branching off from it are two catwalks. They are diagonal to each other, meeting at the tips to form an arrowhead.
The space between them will be the pit.
The catwalks are a lot longer than I thought they’d be, allowing Nash to be closer to his fans that don’t have pit or front row tickets.
Since the main stages are so large, it’s been an adjustment to make sure we’re traveling the stage quickly enough. At times I feel like I’m all out sprinting to make it to my mark on time, but we’ve finally nailed down the whole show.
Which works out perfectly, because we fly out early tomorrow to begin the first leg of the tour. We’re starting here in the states, our first show all the way in New Jersey. It isn’t until the day after tomorrow, allowing us a day to get settled before the madness begins. After that, we’ll be traveling the country on private planes and tour buses.
Riley and Ziggy convinced me to do one last Mexican night at our favorite spot before Ziggy and I hit the road for the tour. I still need to finish packing, but I couldn’t say no to my best friend. Luckily, most of my wardrobe for the tour is already packed away on one of the trucks making their way to the stadium, which means that’s less for me to have to pack. It works out, seeing as I will have very limited space while on the bus.
After doing some research on what a tour bus even looks like, I think the other dancers and I will get to know one another pretty well with the small living quarters we’ll be sharing.
After waiting fifteen minutes for a table inside the busy restaurant, we finally get seated in the back. Chips and salsa are placed in front of us once we sit, and before we dig in, I snap a picture to upload to Instagram. My followers haven’t heard from me as much as usual because tour prep has overtaken my life, but I’m going to try and be better about it in the coming months.
Many of my followers have been with me for a big portion of my dancing journey here in LA, and I want to take them on the adventure of a lifetime with me. Above all, I hope my sister sees me living out what was at once her dream—wherever she is right now.
Once the picture has the filter I want on it, I tag the restaurant and post it with the caption: One last time before leaving.
I slide my phone into the pocket of my jeans then scoop some salsa on a chip and dig in, wanting to be fully present since this is my last night with Riley for the foreseeable future.
“I’m going to miss this place,” Ziggy says, talking through his own bite of food.
“Please, I’m going to miss you two! What the hell am I going to do here all alone?” Riley whines, too busy pouting to enjoy the food.
This will be the longest Riley and I have been apart, but we have some breaks in the tour where we’ll be home on our off days. It’s not like I won’t see her the entire duration of the tour.
“I’m sure you’ll get yourself into some kind of trouble.” I laugh, before smiling at the waitress approaching us.
We give her our drink orders, asking to also start out with queso and guac for the table. Because if I won’t be getting this food for a while, I’m going all out.
“The two of you are all badass, about to dance in front of thousands of people on a tour with Nash Pierce, and I’ll just be here in LA, still trying to follow my dream but really just fetching coffees like a good little errand girl.” Her bottom lips juts out dramatically as she dips her chip into the sauce.
“At least your boss is hot,” Ziggy offers.
One night, after a few bottles of wine, Riley showed us her boss’s Instagram. Ziggy’s right; the guy is incredibly attractive.
Riley groans. “He’s hot, but he’s also such an ass. He’s not hot enough to be that much of a dick. The other day he spilled his coffee on me on purpose because he said it was too sweet. That jackass ruined a brand-new dress of mine!”
My eyes travel over the menu as I try to decide what I want tonight. Usually I opt for the enchiladas because they’re cheap and delicious, but tonight I want to go big or go home. Oh, fajitas are twenty bucks? Sold. Guac is extra? Put it on my tab.
“You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life,” Ziggy responds as the waitress sets his strawberry margarita in front of him.
Riley opens her straw and puts it in her own drink. “That negativity in my life is currently my only chance at having a job. I’ll deal with it.”
She then looks down at her menu, and it’s quiet at our table as we each try to decide what we’re having.
I finally settle on the chicken fajita platter, my mouth already watering at the thought of it. We give the waitress our orders when she returns, stuffing our faces with chips and dip in the interim while holding casual conversation.
The magical sound of sizzling fajitas breaks me from the current topic with my friends about what to pack for the tour. When I look up, I find our waitress nearing our table. She sets my food in front of me as I try not to drool. It smells divine, and I want to ravenously dive into it. Unfortunately, my mother raised me to have manners, so I don’t. Slowly unwrapping the tortilla from the aluminum foil, I begin to concoct my perfect fajita.
“We’re coming back here the second Nora and I are back for a bit.” Ziggy moans, chewing a bite of his burrito.
Riley is busy looking down and mixing her taco salad. “Yeah, well, because I’m petty I’m going to order carryout from here once a week and send you pictures.”
I gasp, a piece of my bite falling out of my mouth in the process. “You wouldn’t!”
She stabs her fork into her bowl, looking up at me with a sinister smile. “You bet your ass I would. The two of you are going to be off jet setting around the world. This’ll be my payback.” She shovels a bite into her mouth.
“I’m going to forget you just said that,” I say, while I fill my second tortilla. I polished off the first one so fast I’m not sure I breathed between bites. “Nothing can ruin this last supper of sorts for me tonight.”
The restaurant around us gets louder and louder as I continue to pile on my toppings. When I look toward the front of the building, I find restaurant goers up and out of their seats, all staring at something—or someone. I can’t see what everyone is staring at, but it must be something cool because half the people in the crowd are out of their seats and funneling to the front.
“What do you think they’re looking at?” I ask, trying to crane my neck to see what all the commotion is about.
Riley shrugs, her cheek puffing out with a large bite. “I don’t know, but surely if it was a fire there’d be alarms, right?”
I nod, assuming she’s right. Angling my second perfect fajita toward my face, I look at the bustling crowd once again. I try not to gape when I see the last person on this planet I was expecting.
Nash breezes through the restaurant, not paying any attention to the people gawking at him. People are pulling out their phones, snapping photos of him with their jaw practically hanging to the floor. He doesn’t spare them a second glance, his gaze locked in on our table.
He looks oddly placed amid all the bright colors, his dark ripped jeans dull in comparison to the flags hanging from the ceiling and the red and blue walls of the restaurant.
My fajita stays in the air in front of me as he continues to make his way to our table.
What. The. Fuck.
“Oh, holy shit,” Riley mutters through a mouthful of food. The words come out jumbled due to the mass amount of food stuffed in her mouth.
But same, girl.
“Let’s go,” Nash says as soon as he steps up to the table.
Awkwardly looking over my shoulder, I try to see if there’s somebody behind me I’m not aware of.
His gray shirt bunches around his biceps when he crosses his arms over his chest. “Nora,” he drags out, an annoyed tone to his voice.
A lone piece of chicken falls from the back of my fajita. I narrowly avoid it landing in my lap. The fajita drops out of my hand in shock.
“Excuse me, what?” I ask, wondering if I’ve ended up in some parallel universe.
Why is Nash at this restaurant right now? And why is he looking at me as if I’m a child not listening to their parent?
He gestures behind him with a lazy lift of his arm. “If you can’t tell, we’re gathering quite the audience. Let’s go.”
Taking my napkin from my lap, I set it next to my plate. “Did we have plans?” I ask him.
I might die of embarrassment if I somehow missed the memo that I was supposed to be rehearsing with Nash and forgot.
He scratches his head awkwardly, his eyes bouncing around the room before landing back on me. “Uh no, but I’m here. I need to talk to you about something.”
“What?” I blurt, wondering what we could possibly need to talk about. I look toward Riley and Ziggy, hoping they’ll interject.
My friends are no help, however, because they both continue to chew haphazardly while watching me and Nash like we’re a freaking two-person movie.
The fans behind him are inching closer and closer to our table—to him. I notice one of his bodyguards stepping out between the growing crowd and Nash.
The bodyguard, Sebastian if I remember correctly, aims a firm look at the people trying to close in on Nash. He folds his arms across his chest, becoming a large barrier between our table and the bustle of people trying to inch their way closer to Nash.
Riley kicks me from underneath the table. “Nora. You have to go.” She looks at Nash from the corner of her eyes, doing an awful job at being sneaky. She aims a beaming smile his way, her foot knocking me in the shin for the second time.
I look down at my plate of half-eaten food. “But I haven’t paid.”
Nash reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a sleek black wallet. Thumbing through the bills in the wallet, he pulls out three hundred-dollar bills and places them on the table. “This should cover it.”
Staring at the cash on the table, I think through my options. Monica would probably be chomping at the bit for me to go somewhere with Nash. It just feels incredibly random, and it’s weird to see him out somewhere in my everyday life.
I stare down at my fajitas longingly. “But, I’m not done eating.”
“Jesus Christ, Nora,” Nash says through clenched teeth. He turns so his back is facing the growing crowd. “I’ll get you whatever food you want when we leave.”
“Go,” Ziggy says loudly, looking up at Nash and giving him a big, forced smile.
Once I grab my purse from the floor, I slide my chair back. I look up nervously at Nash, unsure of where he plans to go now. The exit is blocked by a mob of people, all staring at us wide-eyed. Thankfully, one of the managerial staff walks up to us.
“Would you like to leave through the back?” he asks, pointing toward a small hallway.
“That would be great, thank you,” Nash responds. For a moment, his hand hovers over the small of my back, but he thinks better of it and lets his hand fall to his side.
What on earth is happening?
His bodyguard walks close behind us, making sure no one follows us out of the building. As soon as the small door opens, a wave of cheers can be heard. When I look up, I see another group of people, all screaming Nash’s name. Cameras flash, girls cry, and grown men rattle off questions in succession. It’s absolute madness.
Nash steps in front of me, shielding me from the flashing cameras. I’m too confused to stop and ask questions.
Before I know it, I’m being pushed into the back of an SUV. I slide across the smooth leather seat, looking over to see Nash climbing in next to me. As soon as the door slams, the roaring crowd dulls.
I take a deep breath, buckling my seatbelt as the SUV pulls away from the building. Looking over at Nash, I find his eyes already on me. “Care to explain why you just kidnapped me from my going away dinner?”
A corner of his lip twitches. “That’s your going away party? Two people? One of which is leaving with you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were going to steal me from my friends and also proceed to be an asshole.” I lean forward as much as my seatbelt will allow, grabbing the headrest of the driver in front of me. “Excuse me, sir?”
The security guard looks at me through the rearview mirror.
“Could you possibly take me back to the restaurant? My friends are waiting, and I didn’t leave them hanging to spend my time with a brooding popstar.”
The same bodyguard that helped us out of the restaurant hides a laugh by coughing into his fist.
Nash reaches forward, thumping the laughing one on the back of the head. “Stop laughing, Sebastian.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” He clears his throat, looking away. “It’s just, she kind of has a point.”
“Oh yeah?” Nash stops looking at the back of Sebastian’s head and looks at me. “And what point is that?”
“The point is,” I begin, cutting Sebastian off before he can answer for me, “you swooped in out of nowhere and tore me from my friends the night before we leave for months on end. The least you could do is explain your reasoning and not be a prickly prick.”
It’s the driver’s turn now to let out his own laugh. The ruckus from the two big men in the front have Nash sitting back in his seat with a scowl on his face.
“Any way we can turn around?” I repeat, trying to catch the eyes of the driver again.
“Keep driving, Matt,” Nash says, smirking at me.
My arms cross over my chest. “Then where are we going?”
Nash smirks some more from where he sits beside me. “Would you let me make it a surprise?”
I laugh, leaning back in the seat. “Not a chance.”
Shaking his head, he runs a hand over his mouth. The hair at the top of his head shifts around with the movement, the slight waves running in different directions. “Didn’t think so. We’re going to the Staples Center.”
I can’t hide the shock on my face, my jaw dropping enough to catch a fly or two. “The Staples Center? Why?”
“The next couple of weeks are going to be insanity. The start of a tour always is, in the best kind of way. I wanted to show you what an empty arena looks like. To give you an idea of what we’ll be performing in front of. Except, we’re doing only stadiums. So we’ll be performing in front of almost double the amount of people.”
I nod slowly, my mind attempting to play catch up. “And you want to show me, why?”
The look on his face is one I haven’t seen yet. It almost looks like he’s…anxious.
“I’m not sure,” he says. “I just wanted to see your face the first time you saw an empty arena I guess.”
I’m definitely in a parallel universe. Is this Nash being nice?
“Did you not have plans the night before going on tour? I feel like you would have plans.”
Over the last month, I’ve become more aware of Nash and his whereabouts, thanks to the media. I’ve told myself not to dive into what he’s up to in his free time, but once the apps were downloaded on my phone, I couldn’t not look.
In my deep dive of searching his name, I found out he loves to go out. With every passing night, he’s been seen leaving some kind of event with a gorgeous woman on his arm. I got lost in watching videos of him. In some of the videos, he’d be stumbling and slurring his words while answering various paparazzi questions.
He looks out the window, his voice lowering slightly when he says, “I could always have plans. Tonight I wanted these plans.”
I want to give him shit, tell him he’ll have way more fun somewhere else than with me, but I selfishly want to take this opportunity with him. Not because Nash’s team wants me to get close to him, but because I want to get to know him better. I want to get to know the man behind the persona.
I sit back, listening to Nash chat with the two men in the front seat, and he occasionally brings me into the conversation with them. It’s odd seeing him so free with the people who work for him. The three of them joke around so easily. Nash definitely hasn’t been a dick to the dancers and crew while we’ve been fine tuning the tour, but he wasn’t joking with them in this manner either.
I didn’t imagine I would spend the last night at home with Nash before we leave for tour, but despite the shock of it all, I’m looking forward to whatever tonight will bring.
Nash is an enigma, someone I never thought I’d get to know. Now that I have the chance, I want to learn everything I can about him.