“I want to tell you about some great women I met recently,” she said into her microphone, chatting like she was in my kitchen and not speaking to 10,000 people. “Have you heard of Voss Watches? Because if you haven’t, you soon will. They’re so pretty and cool, and I’m hoping to collaborate with them. Their owners are queer and we’re releasing a special edition watch to go along with my album, which is sick. Get out your best queer cheers for Poppy and Eliza!”
Holy fucking shitbags. Even though she’d told us, I was not prepared for this moment.
“I think I might vomit.” Eliza gripped my arm so hard I was pretty sure she’d left permanent marks.
“On the plus side, I guess this means we’ve got the deal,” I whispered in her ear.
She turned, dropped her eyes to my lips, then dragged them back up to me. “Smile like you mean it,” she told me, then took my hand and pulled me out on stage as the spotlight swung towards us.
The afterparty migrated backto the VIP courtyard, where our favourite bartender was still wielding cocktails like weapons, with a side of that dangerous smile. My head buzzed with post-stage static: I was fairly certain sleep was now a foreign concept.
How did Roka survive nearly two hours under those lights without combusting? No wonder pop stars developed pharmaceutical habits. Standing in front of that crowd was like mainlining pure voltage. Great as a one-off, but I wasn’t born for the spotlight.
But despite commanding a festival stage like she was born to it, Roka moved through the afterparty with zero ego. She worked the crowd of 50-odd people like she was hosting a dinner party, and when she drifted our way, she’d collected the stunning green-eyed woman en route.
“This is Sasha,” she said, making introductions. "Old friend, happened to be in the country, so I persuaded her to come see me.”
The way Roka looked at Sasha, I wondered if she was more than an old friend. Or perhaps she wanted her to be? It reminded me of the way I’d been looking at Eliza of late.
“I amobsessedwith your English festivals,” Sasha announced in pure Manhattan vowels and consonants. “I had two pints of cider earlier, and I’m ready to apply for citizenship. You simply don’t get drinks like that in the US.” She paused to sip something alarmingly purple. “Also, when Roka mentioned your collaboration, I nearly died. I’ve loved your watches since I could suddenly afford shit when my modelling career took off. Plus, your whole female-dynasty thing? Pure genius. Your family are absolute legends.”
Dead legends, but still.
“How was the stage thing?” Sasha continued. “I watched from the VIP area thinking I’d literally murder Roka if she ambushed me like that.”
We didn’t really have a choice.
Roka’s grin was unrepentant. “Everyone wonders what it’s like behind the microphone, right? Besides, I’m genuinely excited about this partnership. We could build something extraordinary: for both of us, and for the planet. If you agree to my terms, which include giving a percentage of our profits to charity, then we’re on.”
I raised my lime-green cocktail, which was currently rewiring my nervous system. “To our success, and to saving the planet on the way there.”
We stumbledthe few steps to our glamping tent, drunk on the day and the buzz of Roka’s commitment to us. Up above, the sky was scattered with diamonds, impossibly bright away from the city’s glow. The smell of baked earth filled my airwaves, along with the taste of potential. Like the first sip of wine you’ve been saving for the right moment: complex, promising, with notes you can’t quite identify yet, but you want to explore further.
We’d left when the party was in full flow, having had enough green drinks and socialising for one day. Plus, Roka had spent the last half hour snogging the face off Sasha. When they slipped away, it gave us permission to do so, too.
However, other non-green drinks were still fair game, so we raided the minibar with the dedication of people who weren’t quite ready for the night to end, settling on the deck with tiny bottles of tequila.
“I haven’t had a moment like this in forever.” Eliza’s voice caught as she stared upwards. “Just completely removed from everything, yet somehow more present than I’ve felt in months. Living with dad and juggling the renovation hasn’t been easy. But being away from it all, and being with you? I can breathe again.”
I wasn’t sure being with Eliza was easy, but I knew what she meant. She had this way of making the world feel manageable, of softening the edges.
“It’s all down to you. This whole weekend, New York and shedding Michelle, feeling lighter than I have in months. I’m really grateful Margot and Dad picked me for this job.”
Her profile in the moonlight was magical. “I’m really grateful they picked you, too.” I gulped. I knew I was going to say it.
I couldn’t stop myself.
I didn’t want to.
“And after what happened in New York? I know we said we’d bury it and carry on, but I haven’t thought of much else since. Especially when I’m just about to fall asleep.”
The stars wheeled overhead, indifferent to our tiny human dramas.
She nodded, staring at them, before catching my gaze.
Everything inside me clenched. The trees around us held their breath.
Eliza cleared her throat. “Same. I’ve tried really hard, but I knew this weekend would alter things again.”
