I watched as they resumed rehearsals for Shades. Connor couldn't quite nail the routine, always flipping the chair and ending up on the floor.
"Alright, one last time and then we're done for the day," Chris said.
I checked the time. It was already 4:06. My dad would have a coronary.
"Can you press play Kate?" Chris asked me, with a smile.
"Sure," I answered, hopping up from my seat in the front of the room. I went over to his Mac and pressed play on the song Shades.
The dance was flawless, Connor actually managing to stay on the chair the entire time.
I cheered at the end, high-fiving Chris.
"At least we know it'll work," Connor said, hopping down off of the chair.
"We just need to do that consistently," Christopher said, fist-bumping Connor.
I helped Christopher clean up the studio space while Connor gathered up his stuff.
"See you tomorrow at the stage," Connor said to Chris, as we headed out the door.
We followed Glen out to Connor's car, the paparazzi snapping pictures and shouting things left and right.
I kept my head ducked low, hating the flashing of cameras coming at me from every angle.
Connor pressed a button on his key, opening his convertible top. He jumped over the top of his car, starting up the car.
I hopped over the passenger seat, keeping my head ducked low.
"Thanks Glen!" Connor called over all the noise. "See you at 6?"
"I'll be there," Glen shouted, flashing us a thumbs-up. He turned around and began to fight his way back to the studio.
"Why didn't you use the stage today?" I asked, as Connor began to back out of the parking space, trying not to hit any of the paparazzi.
"I gave it to Katrina and Skyline to use."
"Your opening acts?
He nodded, peeling out and speeding away. "It's their first day with the stage, and I had to block Shades. So I told them they could work out schedules to use it, and I'd take it back tomorrow."
"What's happening at 6?"
"Huh?" He stopped at a stop light, and some kids in the car next to us began to snap pictures.
"You told Glen you'd see him at 6."
"Oh, I'm meeting Katrina and Skyline at the stage for a rehearsal."
"That late?"
He shrugged. "That's the only time I could do it." He turned and smiled at the kids taking pictures in the car next to him, flashing them a thumbs-up.
"How long is the show expected to be?"
The light turned green and he turned his attention back to the road.
"Roughly about 4 hours."
We pulled into the Olive Garden.
"You know me so well," I said, hopping out of his car.
"It's true," he said, smiling at me. He closed his convertible top and waited for me to walk around the car, checking his work phone.
He pulled his arm around me as we walked into Olive Garden, smiling for photos and waving for videos.
"Table for two," he said to the lady.
"Name?" she asked, looking at him.
"Connor Jackson."
Her jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered. "Right this way sir."
"Can we get a table that's a little more private?" he asked, when she put as at a table right in the center of the room.
"Yes sir."
He tried to hide his laugh as she led us back to a private room.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure."
I sat down across the table from Connor, accepting the menu from the flustered hostess.
"Does that ever get old?" I asked, once she left.
"What?" he asked, smirking at me. "People falling all over me?"
"You're so cocky. It's a turn off you know."
"It's a gift," he teased, spinning the menu on his finger.
I knew he wasn't cocky. He was actually pretty humble. If he ever had the time, which was pretty rare, he'd stop to take a picture with a fan, or make a video with them, or whatever he could do just to say thank you. And he always signed autographs, which ended up coming back to bite him in the butt most of the time.
A male server came to take our drink orders, thankfully, and the manager came back to assure us that he'd do his best to ensure that we got a peaceful meal.
"Thank you sir," Connor said, with a smile.
"It's my pleasure Mr. Jackson," the manager said, as he left.
"I'm starving," Connor said, opening the menu.
"Did you eat lunch?"
He made a face. "If you count McDonalds as food."
"I don't."
Our waiter came back with our drinks and asked for our dinner orders.
"Unlimited salad and breadsticks," I said, handing the menu to him. I never even opened it.
"Unlimited spaghetti and breadsticks," Connor said, handing his menu to the waiter. I don't ever think he opened it either.
"I'll be back with your breadsticks," he promised, before disappearing.
"We come here way too often," I said, laughing.
"That might be true."
We spent the rest of dinner laughing and chatting, a relaxing brother-sister date. It was a nice day to unwind after a weekend of soccer, and his recent rehearsals.
"So you're headed to stage?" I asked, heading as we headed to the front doors of Olive Garden.
He nodded. "Are you coming?"
I shook my head. "I don't want to see the show before opening night."
He smirked. "You don't want to see me bust my butt during Shades?"
"There's that optimism!"
Paparazzi were waiting outside, along with people screaming Connor's name.
We paused at the front doors, still inside.
"Shit, I should've told Glen to meet us here," Connor said, wrapping an arm around me.
"I can get to Richard," I said to Connor. "Get to your own car, put the top up, and get out of here."
"No way," he said, tightening his grip on me. "You're not fighting that crowd by yourself."
I kissed his cheek before dashing out of his grip and outside.
I knew that if he tried to take the time to get me to my car and then fight his way to his car, he'd be late for rehearsals.
People were snapping pictures of me as I scurried to my car. Richard was waiting, the door open. As soon as he could see me he grabbed my arm and yanked me into the car, quickly shutting the door.
"Thanks," I said, as he hopped into the driver's seat.
"You're welcome," he said, with a smile. "I'm sorry I couldn't step in sooner, but I couldn't see you."
"It's fine, I couldn't see you either."
We managed to maneuver our way out of the Olive Garden parking lot and make it to the soccer fields before 6, which gave me hope that Connor made it to his rehearsals on time as well.
"I'll just be a minute," I said to Richard.
I headed out to Coach Jefferson, who was stepping in Coach Bart with his U10 girls' team while Coach Bart was on vacation.
"This is for you," I said, handing Coach Jefferson the Nike Showcase paperwork.
"Water break girls," he said to the team. He took my paperwork and put it in his bag.
"I also have something to tell you."
"I know; I talked to your mom last night."
"And did you convince her otherwise?"
He shook his head with a sigh. "She's inconvincible. I pulled every string, tried every angle. She won't budge."
I felt my shoulders deflate. "Well, that's that."
"I am glad they decided to let you do the Nike Showcase though. And I think I have her convinced to let you do a few tournaments this summer."
"You're my favorite coach."
He smiled at me. "I better be." He gave me a side hug. "Be careful this summer, keep your endurance up, and we'll keep in touch."
I went back to my car, my heart heavy. I can't believe I had to give up soccer for an entire summer.
My parents hate me.
~*~
"You have 20 minutes," Bethany said, handing me a protein shake as I came in from my run.
"Plenty of time," I said, heading upstairs.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Connor's voice demanded.
I slowly crept along the wall, curiosity burning inside of me.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about Lana," Connor said, exasperatedly.
I rolled my eyes. He's arguing with the fake supermodel girlfriend again.
"Dammit Lana, that's got to be the fifth guy since you got to Paris." He let out a snarky laugh. "Yeah, it is a crime."
I could hear her shouting through the phone, but I couldn't make out what she was saying.
"What do you mean why? You're ruining my reputation that's why."
I heard her voice again, and then Connor's laugh.
"Fuck you," Connor said. A few seconds later I heard Connor's phone collide with the wall.
Connor came storming out into the hallway, his eyes connecting with mine.
"I don't care what dad says," he growled, his eyes blazing. "I'm done with her." He stormed downstairs.
I went into my room and into the connecting bathroom, taking a quick shower to wash off the grime from this morning's run.
I couldn't get my mind off of Connor this morning. He wasn't known to have a temper, which is why it was easy to set him up with Lana in the first place. He was pretty laidback about their relationship, and she was known to take advantage of that.
I wonder what finally pushed him over the edge.
I threw on a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt, keeping my hair up in a messy bun as I finished off my protein shake.
"Good morning honey," mom said, coming into my room.
"Morning?" I asked, turning to face her.
I never saw her or dad in the mornings, Connor's schedule too busy.
She took a seat on the edge of my bed, crossing her right leg over her left. "I don't know if you've seen the tabloids today."
"I haven't."
She let out a sigh. "We've tried to keep you out of the limelight to protect you. You know, away from all the press and the paparazzi. But after the Olive Garden spectacle people have begun to notice you."
"Okay, and?" I'd always had people snapping pictures of me and trying to get information about Connor. That was nothing new.
"They think that you're Connor's girlfriend."
My jaw dropped. "What? Ew! That's disgusting."
"Well now you see the dilemma we're having with Lana."
"That's not what Connor and Lana were arguing about."
She pursed her lips, clearly not expecting me to have known what Connor and Lana were fighting about. "Regardless of what their silly fight was about, we have to clear the air before this goes viral."
"Silly fight? Mom, Connor hates Lana."
"Connor doesn't hate anybody, especially Lana. They just got into an argument, as all couples do."
Why couldn't she see that she was hurting him?
"The point is that you're going to have to miss your morning classes."
"Oh darn," I said, a smile spreading across my face.
"You'll have to come to the studio with Connor this morning for a live video, where you'll address your relationship as siblings, and he'll address his relationship with Lana."
"But first we'll have to send you to hair and makeup to change you out of those hideous clothes." She stood up, dusting herself off. "Is that how you dress to go to school every day?"
I rolled my eyes. "Gee mom, thanks for the self-confidence boost."
"Well I think you're beautiful," she said, taking my face in her hands, "that's why I'm commenting on your outfit." She kissed my cheek and then stepped away from me. "We're leaving now, so find some shoes and come downstairs."
I threw on a pair of socks and slipped my feet into my slides, following her downstairs while finishing off my protein shake.
"Where's Connor?" I asked, following mom outside.
"He and your father went ahead to the studio to set up for the live video," she explained, as Harold opened the car door for us.
I waved to Richard, who tipped his hat at me.
"Get in Katelyn or we'll be late."
"How can you be late to your own live video?" I asked, as I climbed into the backseat.
"You're impossible sometimes," mom said, checking her phone. "Hush, it's your father."
Sometimes she can be just as bad as him.
I texted Jenica letting her know I was dealing with a Connor-crisis and reached for my Beats before realizing that my backpack was in my car over with Richard.
"Alright honey," mom said to dad on the phone. "We're only a few minutes away. See you in a few." She hung up the phone and immediately opened her email.
"Do you ever take a break?" I asked her.
"Take a break from what honey?" she asked, without pausing from her email.
"From being a momager?"
"A momager?"
"A mom that's a manager, a momager."
"I know what the term means, but I am not a momager. I just simply help your father manage Connor's schedule."
I stared at her, waiting for her to put the pieces together.
"Oh. Well I suppose that I could be a momager."
I rolled my eyes, watching the scenery out the window. I was itching for some music.
"Are you upset dear?"
What was your first clue?
"No mom."
"I know that I can be overbearing sometimes," she said, laying her hand on my knee, "but I still love you. You know that right?"
"Sure mom. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Paparazzi was waiting for us at the studio, and Glen made his way out to the car.
"Katelyn," mom said, her eyes filled with hurt. "Can't we at least talk about this?"
"Maybe later. You have a lot to do."
I slid out of the car and grabbed onto Glen's arm. Mom clasped his other arm and he led us into the studio.