Miss Americana and The Hearbreak Princess

Chapter Thirty Five - Red

"I had to buy that house in the end," Becca said with a snort, face etched with laughter as she pressed her lips together, trying to hold back a smile. "I got back home and I just felt relieved because I knew I was going to end the charade. It was like a weight off my shoulders, even though it was the one thing that was giving me and Freen a chance at a normal relationship. I just- I didn't feel good at that point."

"And your team just... let you end it?"

With a sardonic smile, Becca brushed her hair out of her face and crossed her legs, sitting back in her chair, sinking into the soft leather as she deflated slightly. 

A disgruntled expression ran across her face for a brief moment, before she clutched the arms of her chair and gave Mei a bright smile, verging on being too false.

"Well they weren't happy about it," Becca said with a short laugh, "hence the bloody house. Ben and I both knew that we had short-term plans for it though, and our teams knew it too. We just- we pretended we were still together for the rest of July. My team put an offer in on the house that week, we broke things off, and no one knew a thing because why on earth would I buy a house opposite my boyfriend's grandparents unless we were still together? They hadn't painted me that crazy. Yet."

"So you and Freen..."

"Were careful," Becca said, "but we didn't have to be careful for long anyway; she was off to France soon, by that point, for her new film. Of course, everyone was trying to push a new man onto me, and I knew it would be inevitable, but they couldn't rightfully force me into another PR stunt so soon after a breakup without it reflecting badly on me. Even Chen recognised the fact that me being branded a slut wasn't a good thing for my image. So I was given a little bit of breathing room. And then I released my album."

"Tell me you're not serious," Chen said, his voice hard and impatient, running a hand over the faint shadow of stubble that was covering his jaw that late in the afternoon.

Spinning her chair back and forth with an insolent look on her face, Becca raised an eyebrow, "well obviously I am."

"This isn't a fucking joke, Becca," he snapped.

Straightening up at the sharpness of his tone, she threw her shoulders back and raised her chin slightly, trying to look solemn and composed. 

It didn't matter what he said though; Becca wasn't going to walk around kissing Benjamin Lockwood for a second longer. Even if it only bought her a reprieve for a month or two, she would be glad for it. 

No more fake dates with coordinated outfits in public spots, where paparazzi prowled along the streets, called in by her publicist to make the most of their lies while they could. 

It gave her breathing room with Freen, yes, but it was hard to muster up the energy to smile sweetly at a man she didn't really like that much - not even as a friend.

"I know it's not a joke," she bit back, her temper flaring up slightly.

A hand rested lightly on her shoulder and she glanced up at Beer, who gave her a pointed look. Rolling her eyes, Becca relaxed back into her seat, the tension bleeding out of her. Her manager's look was clear - don't antagonise him. 

Despite the fact that Becca was adamant about things with Ben being over, she knew that the cards were somewhat in Don Chen's hands, with the ability to hold her hostage with her contract if she didn't behave. 

Not that Becca cared that much about being forbidden to attend award shows and red carpets. He'd never stop her from releasing her album, that much she knew.

But he could use her for his own benefit. He could control the kind of music she put out, and when, and where she toured. 

She loved her job, she loved to write music and come up with the drum beats, the rhythms, the sound of a guitar in the chorus, but she was given a lot of creative freedom.