Mo frowns, his face expressing the emotion we are likely all feeling. “A tan will ruin her aesthetic?”
“Yes. Luna has a look, and she needs to maintain it across the whole tour.”
“She has to look the same across forty performances?” Hudson glances at our girl, and I know he’s as frustrated as I am at the rules and regulations she has to live with every day. Being famous sure has its limitations. I always thought that fame would bring freedom, but it’s actually like having a shackle on your ankle. A shackle that’s secured to a giant fucking annoying boulder.
“Yes.” Angelica is firm, and she picks up her phone and starts tapping away to make it clear that the conversation is over.
Luna’s staring at the floor, the corners of her mouth turned down. Just as she thought she was going to have a little piece of freedom, Angelica had to weigh in with something to curtail it. Now, Luna will be worried about being in the sun for too long. Even with sunscreen, she’ll tan. It’s inevitable.
I want to scream at Angelica that all these rules and regulations are out of order. Luna needs to be free to live her life. She can still perform with a tan. Are Blueday seriously worried that her fans won’t like her if she looks even slightly different?
“We’ll find some sunscreen,” I say softly. “And a wide-brimmed hat. I’m sure they’ll sell them at a tourist shop near the beach.”
“Maybe you can get one with the corks hanging from strings,” Jax says. “Will that fit with the aesthetic?”
Angelica scowls at Jax’s facetiousness, but she doesn’t reply.
But Jax’s humor achieved one important thing. He got Luna smiling again, and for that, I want to hug him.
Angelica was right. We are all shattered when we arrive at the hotel in Sydney. The hotel is surrounded by crazy fans, and hotel security who look as though they grew up on a diet of nothing but grass-fed Australian lamb. We’re hustled in through the staff entrance at the hotel and end up making our way through the hallways adjacent to the restaurant kitchens. And even though we’ve eaten like kings on the plane, my stomach rumbles.
It doesn’t take us long to change into our beachwear. Luna braids her hair and wraps it with a patterned silk scarf. Dressed in a white bikini and a lace beach cover-up, she looks like a pin-up girl from another era. In contrast, the rest of us look like extras from that awesome 1980s show about lifeguards.
Ben shifts uncomfortably, taking the weight off his prosthetic. It isn’t obvious that Luna has noticed his discomfort, but she chooses that moment to pay him some special attention, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
That’s all it takes to draw him out of his self-conscious funk.
It feels like we’re in a Hollywood movie when we all make our way back through the staff areas to the rear door and jump into the two waiting vehicles. Even though we’re dressed for the beach, all of us are on high alert, keeping Luna safely between our huge bodies.
When the sea comes into view Luna squeals again. “Look at it…look at the waves.”
We all crane to see the gorgeous bay that is one of Australia’s most famous beaches. With light sand and vivid blue waters tipped with foaming white waves, it sure is a sight to behold.
Luna’s hand squeezes my knee, and I smile at her efforts to share her bubbling joy. “Look at that,” I say. “Isn’t it something?”
“It’s more than something,” Luna whispers. “It’s everything.”
At Bondi, Connor asks the driver to stop. Jumping out, he heads into a nearby shop and returns with a wide-brimmed straw hat for Luna and four large bottles of sunscreen for us all.
“If anyone recognizes Luna, we’ll need to get off the beach as quickly as possible,” Connor says. “We’re good until then, but just keep a low profile.”
“That’s going to be easy with seven huge guys who look like a cross between The Rock, Chris Hemsworth, and Mark Wahlberg,” Luna snorts.
The driver advises us to head to the end of the beach, where there are fewer people. We try to make it look like we’re a group of buddies out for an afternoon rather than seven bodyguards surrounding a celebrity, but I’m aware of the intrigued looks of the surrounding beachgoers. Luna’s disguise is good enough that she’s not easily recognizable, but how long before people put two and two together? There must be a few people at the beach who have tickets to her concerts. Her tour is a sellout, and she’s playing all the major stadiums around the world. It won’t take much for them to notice us.
I really hope that they don’t. I want Luna to have fun for at least an hour. I want her to wade into the ocean and feel its power. I want to watch the light pour out of her as she experiences this momentous thing for the first time.