Deep breaths, Rachel. In. Out.

I sit back down. I remind myself it’ll be super risky there. Hong Kong has notoriously ruthless paparazzi. But if I’m traveling for a legitimate business reason, that should help explain any photos they might snap of the two of us together.…

Playing it cool, I finally type back:

Me: I’ll check my schedule and see if I can fit it in.

Me: PS, have Hot Cheetos waiting.

THIRTEEN

There are sequins everywhere. And I mean everywhere.

We’re in the middle of a costume fitting for the multigroup concert in June where we’ll be performing our newest single, “Midnight Prism.” The costume concept is actually pretty cool. We’ll come out in these sleek, slinky black gowns. Then, when we hit the chorus, we just unclip a hook on the side, and the dresses transition into these glowing, holographic-rainbow sequined minidresses, representing that color and joy can emerge from even the darkest night. I look myself up and down in the full-length mirror as a stylist fits me in a strapless violet minidress. The sequins are a little loose and keep sprinkling down onto my feet whenever I move. I suspect that for several days I’ll still be finding hidden violet sequins in places sequins should never be.

I glance to my right, where another seamstress has a tape measure around Lizzie’s waist, making adjustments to her aqua-blue sequined dress. I’ve been mulling over how to handle the “impromptu” rehearsal situation since yesterday. I know I need to broach the subject with her, but I’m just not sure the best way to go about it.

As for the other thing occupying every last one of my brain cells since last night—the one about certain feelings I may or may not have for Alex—I’ve pushed that completely out of my head. It’s too huge to contemplate while I’ve got a seventy-five-year-old woman pinning sparkly fabric under my boobs.

The seamstress finishes jotting down my measurements, then tells me I’m free to change back into my real clothes. But before I do, I decide to take a chance connecting with Lizzie.

“Hey, Lizzie?”

She turns to look at me, wincing as the movement jabs pins into her side.

“Um, hey,” I continue awkwardly. “I was just wondering how Esther is. You guys are really close, right? I know how hard it can be to be away from your sister.” I’ve decided not to bring up the rehearsal directly. Maybe Lizzie really was concerned about the new harmonies. And besides, if she did try to catch me missing rehearsal on purpose, better to get to the root of the problem, rather than focus on what’s already been done.