Her smile faded as June was swallowed into a group of people and more shrieking arose, likely at June’s appearance. Annika was three steps into the fabulous condo, and she was already lost and alone. She glanced at herself in the mirror again. “Stop it. You are Annika Dev. You don’t need June or anyone else to hold your hand. This is for Make Up.” She took a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter, tossed her hair back, straightened her shoulders, and stepped into the elegant melee.

chapter eleven

Oh, god. Celebrities were exhausting.

Just when you thought one of them looked friendly and approachable enough to not obliterate your ego, they would be approached by other celebrities who were much, much cooler than you. Annika stood awkwardly on the balcony among small clusters of people. Only she was cluster-less, like a free-floating dandelion fluff. All the other fluffs clung to their seedpods or whatever, happily belonging. Annika was sure there was a neon sign above her head in her blind spot that said, LOSER. DO NOT ENGAGE.

She took another sip of champagne and wandered around until she came to a small group of people standing under one of the hanging lanterns. There was a middle-aged man in a red Hawaiian shirt, a woman in a flowy purple tunic, and a younger man in trendy glasses.

“I heard this year’s EPIC is going to be completely dominated by Break Up,” the younger man said to the other two. “I’m not even sure who else is competing.”

“Well, they shouldn’t.” The woman laughed, tapping away at her phone. “Break Up’s obviously going to take the prize. Come on, I’m dying for a drink.” They wandered away.

What? Annika walked over and smiled at the man in the Hawaiian shirt, who hadn’t said anything and was left behind. “Hi.” She reached into her purse with her free hand for her card. “I heard you guys talking about EPIC. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s this new app, Make Up, that’s a serious contender. I’m Annika Dev, and I’m the CEO and founder.” She held out her card, but the man looked at it blankly, as if he didn’t know what it was. Perhaps he was from another culture, where cards weren’t passed out regularly. “This is my business card,” Annika explained. “I own a business, Make Up—”

The younger man with the trendy glasses noticed their interaction and rushed back to the middle-aged man’s side. “Sorry, Phil’s on a vow of silence right now. He can’t talk.” The younger man gazed deeply into Phil’s eyes before turning back to Annika. “But Phil would like you to know that you have very nice chakras.”

Phil nodded seriously and bowed.