Passing college is a difficult task on its own, but imagine what it's like when your final grade rests in the hands of the worlds' favorite rock-star.
As graduation from her local community college approaches, Reese Taylors yearns for some answers...
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"We could've gone somewhere more private," Milo mentions as he lines up to take his shot. It's a family tradition to find a mini-golf course whenever we're out on vacation, and since I've barely spent any time with Milo since I got here, going out for a round of mini-golf sounded like a great idea at the time. The course is packed on this cool Spring day and there have been more than a few wandering eyes, drilling holes into me. Thankfully, no one's approached me. Yet.
"No, it's fine," I set my blue ball on the mat, "those pictures don't mean anything."
Waking up this morning with a pounding headache from last night was the highlight of my morning, because when I glanced at my phone, I wished I hadn't. What felt like hundreds of text messages and notifications all flooded my inboxes, all with shared links and pictures of Lennon and I on the dance floor, my hands around his neck, his around my waist, inches away from kissing. Rosie had sent me a link to gossip mogul Jemina Strides, who had framed her entire YouTube video surrounding that one picture.
I knew that no one recognizing the band was too good to be true.
The picture leaves a lot of room for discussion and fan accounts have taken it upon themselves to be the head of those discussions. I skipped out on my morning coffee with Lennon and spent the morning scrolling through fan theories and hate comments before I was kicked out of the practice room by Logan.
I swallow back the bile threatening to come up.
"They do mean something." Milo tucks the small pencil behind his ear and shoves the paper into his back pocket as we move to the next hole. We stand back as the family in front of us finishes up. "You looked like you were about to kiss."
"But we didn't."
"But you might've if I hadn't thrown up all over you," he cringes, baring his teeth, "I'm never drinking again."
Apparently, the news of Lennon Ross almost kissing the woman assigned to film a documentary about him is more headline worthy than Milo Keyes tossing chunks at his bandmate and childhood friend. In my search, I found very few sources noting that Milo threw up on us. And the lack of that crucial detail has people in flames wondering why there wasn't a picture of a kiss.
Because there isn't a picture of a kiss.
And as long as I have something to do with it, there won't be.
"Nobody's even talking about that," I tell him, "all they care about is me and Lennon."
I feel more stares as I step up to the next hole. Milo's phone vibrates in his shirt pocket, and he pulls it out, his expression morphing to one of despair.
"What?" I ask, taking a step toward him to glance at his phone screen. He shields it from me. "What did you read?"
"Another picture from last night is circulating." he says cryptically.
