Just A Little Bit ✔️

5. Kinley

warning: there's some steamy mature content ahead, folks

Kinley Price, In Real Life

I still can't believe I'm here. It's hard not to be freaked out as I navigate the crowd of faces. I seem to know everyone before we've been introduced. They're all people from the magazines, big names in music who are so important the industry wouldn't be able to function without them.

And then there's me. Me, playing grown-up in a maroon cocktail dress that hugs every curve. Me, tripping around in the high-heels Franco picked out for me and mailed with express status from New York City. Los Angeles is the center of the world compared to NYC.

I felt so sheltered before I came to LA since I was comfortable in the concrete jungle. California is all palm trees and sunshine. Here, no one knows my name, and Zane says I better get used to telling people it so they don't forget.

"I'm Kinley," I say. "I'm with Warner Music."

"I'm Kinley Price."

"Kinley. Price. That's my name."

I feel like I'm back in high school, going through class after class as I tell people how to say my name, how to spell it, what they should remember about me. It's hard to remember every tip Zane threw at me before this all began.

He explained that this was my chance to make a statement, to show people who I am outside of the record. I still can't believe it made onto the charts, let alone stayed there. People liked Sincerely, K and a few even personally told me how much they loved it. It's been a whirlwind since it came out a month ago.

The whole process was streamlined. Zane played my demo, and I signed my contract that night in my pajamas. We got my EP out almost instantly after a few late nights in the studio. Next week, we're shooting a music video for Think I Might and tonight, I'm standing in the center of a massive ballroom as they play my song.

Junkie. Live in stereo.

I didn't realize I would come up in the shuffle. They've been playing some of the current hits all evening, but I didn't think I would be included in that lineup, but I was mistaken.

A photographer snaps a picture of me, and I'm stunned, blinking furiously as I clutch my glass. It's just a standard martini, but if I knew I was getting my photo taken, I would have picked something nicer, more sophisticated.

Faraway Blues is here. I've been stalking them from afar for quite a bit. Mostly Stephie, who looks absolutely gorgeous in her mini-skirt, fishnets, and off the shoulder crop-top. Only she could pull off an outfit like that. I wish I could be that cool. Instead, I'm left utterly out of place.

I want to say thank you since her shout-out on Twitter spiked my Spotify downloads dramatically. Unfortunately, I feel like I'd be pathetic if I tried to talk to her, let alone talk to her while she's with the band.

On Stephie's left is Perry, who's dragging her to the bar for a round of shots. Gage and Freddie are off to socialize, and Riley is a loner. He disappears somewhere in the chaos, and I realize I'm staring and acting like a stalker.

I drain the last of my glass and go to order something stronger. The bar is crowded, but I manage to get a seat. Someone comes up behind me, and I get a whiff of his cologne. It's enough to make me dizzy, and it must be something expensive because it smells like money. If that even possible, that is.

The bartender turns to me, and the guy behind me and I say our drink orders at the same time.

"A rum and coke, please."