My facial muscles hurt from smiling. My feet ached from the toe-squeezing, five-inch spiked heels, and the clamp of my dress had dictated only small, shallow breaths for the last two hours. I felt like I was wearing a boa constrictor. I had somehow managed to bend just enough to ride in the limo, wave and smile on the red carpet, but I wasn’t sure I could hold on to the beaming grin one more second without a short break.

At least the premiere itself—a big-budget action movie Charlie had starred in—would take place in the dark where I could bend my spine a little, even if it meant rolls of mashed-down skin spilled out the top.

I hurried to the restroom, my shoulders dropping as I curled my spine forward and exhaled the bit of breath I’d managed to suck in just before exiting the limo.

“You’ve got this,” I muttered to myself. This was an important night for Charlie, and I was thrilled to be celebrating him, but arriving on his arm would also garner lots of press for me. The pictures from the red carpet splashed all over social media sites tomorrow would make any amount of physical discomfort completely worthwhile. They would provide a big spike in tour ticket sales the next day. I was already sold out in LA but was hoping to sell out in the entire US before my tour started. At least I wouldn’t be singing tonight. I could exist for the next several hours in this dress but singing would have been out of the question.

The surprising thing about finally “making it” as a singer was that there wasn’t a whole lot of singing involved. It was a disappointment I hadn’t considered before my popularity had begun to rise. Sure, I had recorded my album, but once that was done, the recordings had been handed over to technicians and sound engineers for the mixing and mastering. When that was done, it was time for the release of a press kit, media appearances, photo shoots and showing up at every event I was invited to in an effort to get my photo, and my name, in front of as many people as possible.

Of course, it helped that I was dating one of Hollywood’s most popular young actors, not only because cameras naturally followed him, and if I was on his arm, they followed me as well, but because he’d introduced me to a new echelon of society. Half of my team had come from introductions Charlie had made, high-level professionals that never would have taken my call if not for him.

But that wasn’t why I was dating Charlie. I mean, I had to admit I liked the attention, and it benefitted my career. But more than that, he was sweet and funny, and an all-around good guy—a rare quality in show business, I was beginning to learn.