"When we were only kids
And our time couldn't end
And how tall did we stand
With the world in our hands"
— Yellowcard
After boarding the private Bombardier jet at Giltz Airfield, Rufus took one of the executive leather seats next to his mother inside the luxurious main cabin. They were soon in the air, making the long trip back to George Bush International Airport, spending approximately 12 hours at cruising altitude. Rufus spent the first few hours with a satin mask over his eyes, trying to catch up on the sleep he missed out on the night before. He woke up just as the flight attendant walked by with a cart of premium snacks and refreshments.
"Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Spencer?" the flight attendant asked.
Having just woken up, Rufus was feeling a little parched. "Do you have something light and fizzy? Pellegrino maybe?"
The flight attendant smiled and reached into the refrigerated compartment in the base of the cart. "I have some right here. Would you care for any ice?"
"No, no," Rufus replied. "I can drink it out of the bottle. But, thank you. I appreciate it."
After a few sips, he turned to Savannah, who was working diligently on her laptop.
"How long have I been out?" he asked, as he cleared the sleep from his eyes, using his index finger.
"About four hours," Savannah said, staying focused on the work in front of her. "Take a moment to collect yourself and then start reading over these scripts." Without breaking her concentration, she handed him a file folder filled with a number of sample scripts.
"Wow," Rufus said after feeling the weight of the folder. "How many scripts are in here?"
"Twelve," Savannah answered flatly. "I've arranged them with the most promising ones toward the top of the stack."
"Hey," Rufus said quietly, putting his hand on top of Savannah's which suddenly stopped typing. "Is something wrong? You're a little colder than usual."
Savannah sighed. "To be honest, I'm a little worried you're going to—once again—shirk your responsibilities and commitments. Vincent may have been a decent substitute, but you could've done so much better. You really don't understand what you actually bring to the table. Your talent simply cannot be duplicated. I don't think you realize all that you can do. And you're starting to lack the discipline necessary for true success. Your head is in the clouds; I really need you to come back to earth and do what needs to be done."
"Look, I know you haven't been exactly thrilled with some of my more recent decisions, but don't you think I deserve to experience the things that so many take for granted?"
"Such as?"
Rufus paused for a moment. "I know it sounds corny, but a steady girlfriend, for instance."
"Oh, Roo, you're going to realize sooner or later that this thing you have with that convict's daughter is merely puppy love."
"Wow, Mother. Tell me how you really feel," Rufus said, removing his hand from hers.
"I know it's harsh, but it's reality," Savannah replied, attempting to spin it. "Young love is ephemeral. One day, you'll find that to be true."
"Yeah, okay. Whatever," Rufus said as he started flipping through the pages of the scripts. Not realizing the weight of her words, Savannah went back to her work, tapping on the keyboard a little harder. The rest of the flight home, they sat in complete silence.
When they arrived at their palatial estate, Rufus went straight upstairs. He sprawled out on his four-post California King canopy bed as the jet lag washed over him. He closed his eyes and let it carry him away.
After a few winks, Rufus woke up to the sound of a knock on his bedroom door. "Yeah?" he called out.
Savannah opened the door and took a few steps inside. "I know you're exhausted, but we need to leave here in 45 minutes."
"What? Where are we going? What time is it?"
"We've got a meet-and-greet in Sugar Land. And right now, it's a quarter 'til 6."
"Who are we meeting and greeting?" Rufus asked as he stretched out his arms.
"A half-a-dozen studio heads who flew in for a convention, a few reps from the label, and, of course, a roomful of VIPs."
"So, a night of schmoozing and selfies. Wonderful."
"Come on, Roo—enough with the attitude. This is important."
Rufus took a deep breath, centering himself. "I know. I didn't mean to sound so ungrateful. I promise, I won't let you down."
This drew a smile on Savannah's face. "The Uber is on its way. I'll see you downstairs."
Once Rufus splashed his face with some cold water and changed into a fresh shirt, he and Savannah ventured out to Sugar Land, Texas, a city just southwest of Houston, owing its founding to sugarcane production. The Uber pulled up to the popular franchise bar, Bakers St. Pub, situated in the beautiful 32-acre Town Square. The bar had been completely rented out for the evening's event.
Rufus was welcomed inside by a number of industry insiders whom he greeted with a forced smile. He glad-handed the high-profile executives, inflating their already massive egos. After snapping a few selfies, he walked up to the rectangular-shaped bar and waited for one of the terribly busy bartenders to come his way. After a few minutes, one of them hustled over, realizing that it was, in fact, the one and only Rufus Spencer.
"What can I get for you—um—sir?" the bartender asked shakily.
Before Rufus could answer, a familiar, much-missed voice chimed behind him, "He'll have a Jack and Diet, single-shot in a tall glass."
Rufus turned around and grinned. "Well, I'll be damned. You always know how to make an entrance, Ms. Redding."
Lena's Cheshire smile lit up the dimly-lit room as she pulled Rufus in for a hug. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."
"You have no idea how thankful I am that you're here to save me," Rufus replied, breathing in Lena's intoxicating perfume. He took a step back and looked around. "Are you here alone or did you come with your dad?"
"No, no—Dad's in New York, trying to reel in some prodigious student director at the Tisch School."
"I see. You want something to drink?"
"In a second," Lena replied before taking a deep breath. "I have to tell you something. And please, try not to freak out."
"Uh-oh. What did you do?"
"Look, I need you to know that I would never purposely hurt you."
"I'm already not liking the sound of this."
"I'm really not expecting you to like any of what I have to say, honestly. I just really need you to keep an open mind."
Rufus sighed. "Okay. Rip off the band-aid, Lena."
"About four months ago, someone came to my house. He had a Bluetooth speaker down by his feet, playing 'Hands Down' by Dashboard Confessional."
"You always had a thing for Chris Carrabba."
"Absolutely. He's a dreamboat. Anyways, this guy stood at my front door holding these poster boards covered with words written in Sharpie—all the reasons why he wanted me back in his life."
"Um—Lena—that guy ripped off the ending of Love Actually. Are you aware of that?"
"Yes, but that doesn't make it any less romantic."
"If you say so. Who's the guy?"
That's when a strapping, clean-shaven, young man with blonde slicked-back hair approached Rufus. "Hey there, Spencer. It's been a long time."
Rufus had to immediately do a double-take. "Tyson. Wow, this is pretty ballsy."
Tyson reached out his open hand, looking for a shake that Rufus simply refused to honor.
"Tyson," Rufus said, straightening his posture. "Would you give Lena and me a minute alone?"
"Sure thing, Spencer," Tyson replied as he buttoned his Luca Faloni Cashmere blazer. He kissed Lena on the forehead and then headed toward the pool tables.
"Are you kidding me?" Rufus asked, completely befuddled. "Tyson Joules? What the hell are you thinking?"
"Well, for starters, I'm thinking that you could have been a little nicer. He's here for one reason and one reason only—to bury the hatchet."
"Lena, last year, that guy tried to steal from me, not to mention destroy my reputation. He's bad news. He's always been bad news."
"You don't understand," Lena stated firmly. "He's done a complete one-eighty. He knows what he did was wrong and he wants to find a way to move past it. He's willing to do whatever it takes. He's not the same person you knew. Believe me—I wrestled with it for weeks, but he was persistent and genuine and, quite frankly, everything I always thought he could be."
Rufus pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, he cut off the man-bun, found an overpriced tailor, and slapped on a personality from a bad rom-com. Don't you see that this is all an act? This is absolutely ridiculous. I can't believe we're even having this conversation."
"Look, I wanted to be up-front and honest with you, just like I've always been. The fact of the matter is I'm happy. Tyson makes me happy. Now, I need you to be happy for me."
"You broke up with him before. You never told me why and I never pressed you for the reason, but you surely can remember it."
Lena looked down at the hard-wood floor. "It actually had nothing to do with Tyson."
Rufus stared at her curiously. "What happened?"
"It was late one night and Tyson and I had fallen asleep at his place, watching some bad action movie on Netflix. I woke up and went to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. That's when I ran into his father."
"Okay...?"
"He was drunk and must have thought I was someone else."
"What makes you think that?"
Lena was quiet for a moment. "Because he grabbed me and started to kiss my neck."
"Jesus, Lena. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because that's as far as it went. I broke free and ran out the door. I haven't seen him since. And I, of course, could never tell Tyson what happened. Can you imagine what he would've done? The whole thing—it would have destroyed his family."
"You never told anybody anything?"
"Who on earth could I trust with something like that?"
"You could have trusted me."
"I know," Lena said, exhaling. "I should have told you."
"Okay," Rufus replied with reluctance lacing his words. "If it'll make you happy, I'll let go of things with Tyson. But, I swear to God, if he hurts you in any way whatsoever, I'm going to lash back twice as hard."
"Those sound like agreeable terms."
"Alright, let's get this over with," Rufus said, grabbing his Jack and Diet from the bar. He then walked next to Lena and they made their way over to Tyson who was playing 9-Ball with a drunken VIP. "Hey, Tyson," Rufus said, extending his hand. "I'm sorry about earlier. I just needed a minute to wrap my head around everything."
"No worries," Tyson replied, shaking hands with Rufus. "I really do owe you an apology. I was a pompous asshole; there's no question about it. And I am truly sorry."
Rufus gave a half-hearted smile and then sat next to Lena on one of the barstools lined up against the wall.
"So, tell us, Rufus—who's this girl that kept you from touring the world with your band?" Lena asked.
"Well, her name is Ava and she's probably the most amazing person I've ever met."
"High praise," Tyson said as he nailed a combo. "You've met quite a few stand-out people. She must be something special."
"Oh, she is," Rufus insisted. "I know the distance is going to be rough, but she's totally worth every bit of effort."
"She must have some magical ax-wound," Lena said, folding her arms.
"Okay, that has to be the most disgusting euphemism I've ever heard," Rufus replied, repulsed.
"I'm kidding," Lena said, bending her honesty. "So, what's she like? Are we going to meet her anytime soon?"
"To tell you the truth, I feel like she's outta my league. She's compassionate without being overbearing, talented, but not conceited, and beyond beautiful; her smile could stop traffic. And hopefully, after the crazy amount of auditions I have coming up, I'll fly her out here and you both can meet her. Then, you'll see exactly what I see."
"Wow, you've got it bad, Spencer," Tyson said as he chalked his cue.
"Yeah, he's right," Lena added. "I've never heard you go on about a girl like this. She must be special."
"Oh, she is," Rufus assured, taking a sip of his drink. "She's that and so much more."
"Are you worried about the press harassing her?" Lena asked. "I'm sure it's only a matter of time before she's known the world over. I mean, 'The Girlfriend of Rufus Spencer'? She's guaranteed click-bait."
"Actually, I'm really not all that worried," Rufus admitted. "She keeps a pretty low profile and I know for a fact that she's in a safe place, far away from any prying eyes."
"Well, she's a lucky girl," Lena said, leaning back against the wall. "I hope she knows that."
"I'm the lucky one," Rufus replied. "And I know that through and through."
"It seems like she's had quite an effect on you," Lena mentioned. "You're—well—different."
"I feel different. I feel lighter; it's hard to put into words."
"You're in love, Spencer," Tyson remarked. "The sooner you realize that, the sooner everything will fall into place. Trust me on that."
"I guess I am," Rufus said, letting the idea marinate. "Huh."
"What?" Lena asked.
"Nothing—I've just never been in love before. It's... spectacular."
YOU ARE READING
The Prince & The Popstar
General FictionA twisted fairy tale with a little bite. When popstar Rufus Spencer meets his doppelganger, Prince Vincent of Verastoria, he's offered the chance to escape his exhausting life by switching places with the prince, who grew up incredibly sheltere...
