Aunt Karla grimaces.
“Any chance you and your guardian can meet me at my office this evening? I know it’s short notice, but I’m close to Forty-Second Street Studios. Corner building. Eighteenth floor, suite 1806.”
“One second. Let me see.” I press the mute button and stare at Aunt Karla. “He wants to know if we can come to his office. Like, right now.”
She frowns. “It can’t wait until tomorrow?”
I unmute the call. “Alan? My aunt says she can bring me.”
“Perfect. I’ll have your names added to the list at Security.”
“Is this about the videos? Am I in trouble?”
“This is about the videos.” He sighs. “But you’re not in trouble. We’ll discuss when you get here. See you soon.”
* * *
The train ride to Times Square is a somber one. At least, for me. Aunt Karla’s even stopped trying to cheer me up. She does wrap an arm around my waist and lay her head on top of mine. I contemplate turning my phone off in hopes of calming the anxiety and also stopping the stream of texts coming in. When Mom messaged me and said, Wow, Jerzie was that your first kiss?! What a dreamy guy. Go daughter! I think I died a little. My entire family is watching me being kissed for the first time. On repeat.
To add to everybody and my mom texting me weird congratulations, strangers are staring at me. I kid you not. Okay, fine. One person on the subway is staring at me. Maybe it’s because I’m wearing one of Aunt Karla’s nice dresses. An orange, flowy Rebecca Taylor dress that ties in the front, with knee-high strappy sandals. I figured whatever sort of bad news I’m about to get from Alan would be better received dressed in something classy and respectable.
“That girl might be recognizing you,” Aunt Karla whispers.
I slump down onto the cold plastic seat, tightly gripping the metal handrail beside me, focusing my full attention on the dirty floor of the subway car. When we make it to the Forty-Second Street stop and Aunt Karla and I stand to exit, both moving swiftly with the crowd onto the platform, I feel someone tap my shoulder. I spin around. It’s the girl who was staring at me. She’s holding another girl’s hand, and they’re both grinning at me like fools.
“Yeah?” A part of me wonders if maybe I know them from home or something. Maybe we used to go to school together. But that part of me gets proven real wrong when one of them asks, “Are you from the Romeo and Juliet video?”
I know my mouth should be moving in some semblance of a response. I blink instead.
“It is her,” the other girl declares. “See. I told you.”
“Is that your real boyfriend?” the first girl inquires. “You can tell he really loves you. You love him, too, huh?”
I blink again.
“For love!” the first girl exclaims, holding up her girlfriend’s hand. They kiss on the lips, giggle, and rush off up the stairs.
Aunt Karla claps excitedly. “See? Famous!”
“Aunt Karla. I’m not famous. Two people recognized me.”
“You’re an American ambassador for love, girl. Embrace it!” She claps again. “Excuse me!” Aunt Karla calls out to a group of random strangers. “Famous niece coming through. Move.”
I shake my head in embarrassment and trudge behind her, up the long flight of stairs that lead us out of the subway station.
* * *
We file into the Times Square building where Alan’s office is located and move quickly through security. It’s only a minute before we’re stepping off the elevator and standing in front of suite 1806. I ring the buzzer mounted beside the door.
“Yes?” A male voice that sounds a lot like Alan booms through a sleek mounted camera.
“Hi,” I say. “It’s Jerzie. I have my aunt with me, too.”
“Great. I’ll buzz you in. It’s the last office on the right.”
A second passes and the door buzzes. Aunt Karla yanks it open, and we both step into a simple reception space.
I turn to Aunt Karla. “Would it be okay if I went in alone?” If I’m about to get fired, I really don’t want an audience.
Her expression clouds but she nods in reply. “Sure, hon. Absolutely. I’ll be waiting out here if you change your mind or if they need me for some reason.”
I stuff my phone into the tiny leather purse slung over my shoulder. “Thanks, Aunt Karla.”
I shuffle slowly, my sandals squeaking across the marble flooring as I go. When I push open the last door at the end of the hall, I’m surprised to see Zeppelin, Elias, and Robbie all stuffed into the cramped office space.
“Jerzie. Welcome. Have a seat.” Alan’s warm and friendly as he sips something from a reusable water bottle.
“Hey,” I mumble and slide onto the only empty chair, right beside Zeppelin. I set my gaze on my hands, twisting my fingers like I’m trying to screw them off. The strong heat that emanates off Zeppelin warms me from the inside out. I wonder if his body temperature is higher than the standard 98.6 degrees.
“So,” Alan starts. “Cinny and her manager were supposed to join us, but apparently she’s feeling ‘ill,’ so the meeting will go on without her.” He looks at me now. “We thought it would be good for all of us to be on the same page when it comes to these videos being leaked. Especially you, Jerzie. Since you’ve sort of been thrust in the middle of this mess.”
“Did you guys upload the videos onto YouTube?” I ask.
“Absolutely not.” Robbie clears his throat. “Jerzie, after you left for school, I uploaded the footage from today onto Vimeo. Password protected.”
“So someone hacked into the site and stole the file?” Alan asks.
“Most likely.” Robbie turns to look at Zeppelin. “But the video of Cinny has footage from quite a few rehearsals. Who’s been recording her?”
“Definitely not me.” Zeppelin yawns, as if this whole situation is lulling him to sleep. “And everyone knows I’m pretty much internet and social media illiterate. I’ve never even heard of Vimeo. Besides, Cinny’s my friend. Whoever put that video online must seriously hate her.”
All eyes turn to Elias. He holds up his hands.
“No, no. I do not hate Cinny,” he declares with his strong French accent. “We disagree at times. Yes. But even if I did hate her, I love myself too much to give away my dances for free. A complete routine uploaded onto YouTube? When we are still weeks away from previews? Oh mon dieu. Never.”
Now everyone’s head automatically turns toward me.