Hollywood Dreams

② | 𝐼𝓇𝒾𝓈

"Your single The Other Side has been holding the top spot on the charts for three weeks now, and its music video has nearly two hundred million views. Tell me, Iris, what's your recipe for success?"

Iris Kingston modestly smiled and tried not to squint into the camera. She was a celebrity guest on the morning talk show, Good Morning, America, and had rehearsed answers to similar questions in advance. "It's quite simple, David," she replied to the affable host, pausing meaningfully. "I put my soul into it."

Applause echoed from the television audience.

"Iris meant the music industry. Not Satan," her mother added, eliciting general laughter. Claudia Kingston, dressed in a white Saint Laurent jacket, sat on the couch to her daughter's right. In her early thirties, with a youthful platinum haircut, she appeared more like Iris's older sister. She was quite young when she became a mother, but she considered it a great advantage now.

"We wouldn't have thought of that," David chuckled, looking at both of them. Blond-haired Iris was seventeen, petite, and her innocent appearance was dominated by azure-blue eyes. A perfect American sweetheart with immense talent embodied in her velvety voice.

The joke about Satan was her mother's idea, just like participating in the talk show with a short performance. Claudia started as an insignificant secretary in an even more insignificant company. However, when her daughter's musical talent emerged, she seized every opportunity to extract the maximum from it. Endless hours of singing, dancing, and piano practice. Little Iris also looked like an angel, so it didn't take long for her music videos to be discovered by a recording studio. At fifteen, she released her first album. And from there, it was just a step to where she was today - Iris Kingston, a young pop icon with millions of fans worldwide, and her devoted mother, always faithfully standing by her side.

"Your mother told me backstage that you have a surprise for us," David continued.

"Yes, I'd like to sing something from the new album for you."

"Can I choose?"

"Of course."

"Definitely the song The Other Side; I heard it on the radio seven times today," he said, and the audience laughed again. Iris stood up from the couch and walked to the microphone. She felt the attention of the entire studio upon her and the dazzling embrace of stage lights. Trying to suppress the unique tension enveloping her, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to sing.

The melody unfolded like a stream, slowly and hypnotically, every time her voice permeated the space. Iris moved to the rhythm, focused on every note, as if her singing was reaching her inner essence. Despite being watched by the entire studio and thousands of people on television screens, this moment was intimate for her, as if the music existed only in her head, allowing her to enter her own world of fantasy.

At the end of the song, applause in the studio merged with cheers. Even clapping David stood up. "Ladies and gentlemen, that was the stunning Iris Kingston and her latest hit The Other Side, which you can listen to on her new album Wave. And that's all for this morning. We wish you a wonderful day, and don't forget to tune in next time."

"Lunch with the studio executives, a small autograph session at the Beverly Wilshire hotel, an interview for Teen Vogue, and a party at producer Henry Goldstein's place. I hope you're full of energy today because you have to shine there," Claudia announced to her daughter as they left the television studio building, tapping on her smartphone. Organization was her middle name; she had everything under control, from legal contracts to Iris's social media accounts.

"I woke up at four; I don't understand how I'm supposed to shine at a party after what you just read to me," Iris complained, pulling her hood over her head in the safety of the limousine. Even after years, she couldn't get used to the presence of paparazzi who chased her as soon as she stepped out from anywhere.

"Don't dramatize it; we've handled a busier schedule before," her mother reminded her, pulling out an orange pill bottle from her Hermès bag. "Here, take this. You'll feel better."

"What is it?"

"Your doctor prescribed it. It helps with fatigue."

Iris took the offered pill. Her mother threw the bottle back into her bag and took out a compact mirror to check her makeup. She had recently undergone some cosmetic procedures with a plastic surgeon, and she was more than satisfied with the results. "After the interview, you'll take a short nap, and you'll be as fresh as a daisy. Just try to look enchanting there, please. Henry Goldstein is planning his life project, and if luck is on our side, maybe you'll get a role in it."

Iris looked at her mother in surprise. "But I'm not an actress. I want to focus mainly on my music career."

"Oh, come on, Iris. What about Selena Gomez? Or Beyoncé? Or Miley Cyrus? I don't understand why you couldn't try something else besides singing. God knows you have more talent than all three combined."

"I'm already maxed out. A world tour awaits me, and I have to prepare for everything." Iris couldn't imagine how her mother could fit filming a movie into her already packed schedule. It was true that it took only a few weeks, at most a few months, but what about all those costume fittings and learning lines? She already slept an average of six hours a day, and she hadn't even started preparing for her tour, where she was set to perform over a hundred concerts on five continents within a year.

"The tour won't start for another ten months. You have plenty of time until then," her mother dismissed her, but then noticed her daughter's determined expression. Touchingly, she set down the mirror . "You know I only want the best for you, Iris. Don't I deserve it after all these years I've dedicated to you?"

Suddenly, Iris felt guilty. There had been times when they lived in a moldy apartment, and her mother sometimes had two jobs just to cover all the art courses she attended as a child. Listening to her advice was the least she could do. "Okay, I'll give it a try."

Her mother's reproachful expression brightened. "I'll have the white dress ready for you in the evening. You'll see; you'll be unforgettable in it!"

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