The Price Of Sunshine - Norman Reedus

Lily - Chapter Two

Lily.

“So, Miss Keaton, let me ask you just one more question before we set you free,” the interviewer, Chris Judd said, a cheesy, all-too-fake smile shining on his face. He must've felt proud that he made a reference to my latest novel. “In Set Me Free, what is the main point you're trying to get across to your readers? I mean--” He let out a deep chuckle and motioned toward the audience past the TV cameras. “--what is the purpose of bringing two people together only for one of them to cheat at the end?”

I flashed him a polite smirk and tried to ignore the murmurs of curiosity echoing onto the stage. No matter how hard I pretended that it was just Chris and I in this gigantic room, I couldn't bring myself to keep our eye contact for very long. Outside the window behind him, a crowd had formed at some point during my time here. A middle-aged woman held up a sign that read “I love Keaton books!” while her daughter, who couldn't have been more than six-years-old, held another sign that said “#1 Lily Lover!”

I mentally groaned in my head. The Lily Lovers. I hated them and adored them all at the same time. On one hand, they were my biggest growing fanbase group that kept up with my blog, my website, and bought my new books on releasing day. If anything, they were faithful and supportive. On the other hand, they were the reason why I had hired Sergio, my intimidatingly large Hispanic bodyguard who followed me around like he was my shadow, blocking off anyone who came too close to me. As well as being faithful and supportive, they were also obsessive and invasive.

Not to mention that little girls like the one standing outside the window shouldn't have been reading my books in the first place.

Lacing my fingers together over my crossed knee, I leaned toward Chris like I was going to tell him a secret, which would've been impossible with the tiny microphone attached to my shirt. “Well, that's an easy one, Chris,” I told him as I made up some bullshit answer in my head. There wasn't really a purpose to what I wrote about. It was just life. “I'm sure my readers are smart enough to have it already figured out. I wanted to explain to people that trust is a very hard thing to have for someone and just to be careful. Just because you think you know someone doesn't mean you really do, you know what I'm saying?”

Even though I'd pulled that answer out of my ass with no heart behind it whatsoever, a wave of thunderous applause and cheers roared over the audience. This was usually my cue to turn toward them, give a cute wave, and mouth a few words of thanks and blow air kisses. Chris even slapped his hands together before standing and holding his left one out to me. I followed suit, lifted myself to my feet, and slid my dainty hand into his. The flash of cameras erupted like lightening and as we turned our heads to them to pose, my phone vibrated violently in my bra. A bitter feeling swirled inside of my gut. As I linked my arm with Sergio's and walked from the stage, I knew – I just knew – that the person texting me was either my frantic mother demanding to know why I canceled my visit this weekend, my agent informing me that I was late for something I completely forgot about, or Rylan telling me that he set he toaster on fire again.

Waving to the crowd that had formed together outside the studio, I slipped into the back of Sergio's car and pulled my phone out before he had the chance to shut the door behind me. I sighed in relief when the name flashed on the screen. “Hey, I'm in NYC for the next few days. Coffee?” Norman's text read.

I didn't even ponder on my response. “Yes, yes, of course. Cosmic Coffee in two hours?”

Not even thirty seconds later, my phone vibrated once more. “See you then.”

I relaxed back in my seat and stared out the window to my right as Sergio passed by yet another bookstore that was selling Set Me Free on display in the entrance. Norman's text didn't give me the chance to feel even the least bit bitter about the fact that the book already cost me the friendship of the girl who I based it off of. I mean, I knew I should've asked her permission before basically copying her relationship I knew was going to crash and burn from the beginning and turned it into a best-selling novel, but I thought she would've been excited that I dedicated it to her. Who didn't want their name with a couple of x's and o's in the front of Lily Keaton's newest book? Felicia didn't, that was for sure.