“You don’t have to do this,” Selena said suddenly from her place by the window, turning to face her boyfriend. “No one will think any less of you if you refuse to sing at one concert.”
“You might,” he answered honestly, and though the words stung to be said, there was a certain amount of truth to them.
She looked pained for a moment, and then moved to sit beside him on the small couch.
“This isn’t about me,” she responded firmly, fiddling with her hands in her lap so that she had something else to look at. “This is about what you think is best.”
“What if I don’t know what’s best?”
Selena looked up at him with a warm smile, and cupped a hand around his cheek
“Justin, as long as you pretend you know best, no one out there is going to know the difference.”
“You will,” he responded with a small smile, but now he was just being difficult to get a rise out of her.
“I’ll be right behind you, no matter what you do,” she replied honestly, and in the ensuing silence she leaned in to kiss him.
The world began to dissolve in that kiss, until there was nothing left but the room they occupied together, and even the edges of the room grew fuzzy the longer the kiss lingered. For a few moments, Justin forgot about everything he had done and everything that was still left to do. This place, this room, was their own little world where nothing mattered – nothing existed – but the two of them. Selena was warm and sweet and everything he had ever wanted.
And when that thought grew too hot, too demanding, he pulled away.
She sighed, and stood, pulling him up with her.
“Come on,” she said, trying to pretend her knees weren’t weak and her voice wasn’t shaking. “You’re fans are waiting.”
And she lead him from the room.
