In the relentless spotlight of fame, Jocelyn West (rising pop princess) and Paige Bueckers' fiery romance ignites, but their struggle with toxic tendencies threatens to consume BOTH their careers, and each other. Who knows if they'll come out alive.
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Paige's hotel room in Los Angeles was a vibrant whirl of final preparations. The suite, with its luxurious décor, had been transformed into a temporary dressing area. Makeup artists, hairstylists, and wardrobe assistants buzzed around, attending to every detail. Paige stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the black Versace suit that had been sent for her to model at the draft. The suit, straight off the runway, was a bold statement of elegance and power, perfectly reflecting the anticipation surrounding her as the number one pick.
Azzi, seated on the plush sofa, was adjusting a shimmering silver dress that fell gracefully to the floor. The dress hugged her curves and highlighted her poised confidence. Aubrey, who was in a sleek, navy blue suit with a slim, modern cut and a crisp white blouse, was struggling with a stubborn cufflink, her face showing a mix of excitement and nerves.
"I can't believe tonight's the night," Azzi said, carefully applying a final touch of lipstick. "It feels surreal."
Aubrey nodded, her eyes darting between the mirror and Paige. "I'm excited but also a bit scared. I mean, this is such a huge moment. I hope we all end up where we want to be."
Paige, who was adjusting her cufflinks, glanced over at them. "I'm trying not to think about it too much. I know where I want to go, but I just hope it all works out."
"Where do you want to go, anyway?" Aubrey asked, leaning against the dresser. "I'm hoping for either Seattle or Atlanta."
Paige sighed, a thoughtful look on her face. "I've always wanted to be part of a team in a cool ass city. I'm hoping to land in New York or LA. Anything but the Fever."
Azzi chimed in, her voice warm but tinged with concern. "I've been thinking about Phoenix or Dallas. I think their style of play suits my game well."
Aubrey raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips. "I think all of us are going to get drafted exactly where we want. We've worked too hard for it not to happen."
Paige forced a smile, though her mind was clearly elsewhere. "Yeah, I hope so."
Aubrey suddenly looked thoughtful. "Do you think Jocelyn might show up tonight? Since it's in LA, I mean. It could be—"
Azzi interrupted, her voice sharp but caring. "Aubrey, don't bring that up. Paige doesn't need to think about that right now."
Paige and Jocelyn hadn't talked in 3 weeks since their big argument. Paige didn't know anything about what Jocelyn's been up to — including the blackmail that Connor had on Jocelyn.
She was angry at Jocelyn for not reaching out for the draft, but she couldn't allow herself to think about it too much, not with the next years of her life about to be decided.
Paige's gaze remained fixed on the mirror, and she gave a small, dismissive shrug. "Nah, I don't think she'll be here. It's whatever."
The room fell into a brief silence, the tension momentarily broken by the arrival of Brittany, Paige's stylist. She breezed in with a confident smile and a clipboard. "Alright, ladies, let's wrap this up. We've got a big night ahead of us. Time to make our grand entrance."
