“Yo, you seen this?” said Ade. He turned his phone to me and showed me a stream of Trinity on TV. I couldn’t hear it that well over the music, but I could read the subtitles. And they were bad. Really, really bad.
I got out my phone and texted Astin. I knew he was with Liam, Hollie, and Fayth. They needed to know what Trinity was saying about them before they were blindsided by the press or social media.
Ade took my arm and we went out to the yard, where it was quieter, so that we could hear. Ade had met Trinity a couple of times, although he wasn’t close to her. He knew her as someone who was annoying but hot, so he kept her at arm’s length and mostly invited her to parties he organized to ogle her. Even though I knew he was right and that she was hot, I couldn’t look at her in that way because of all the history Tate and I had with her. She’d always be Tate’s ex-best friend to me, which meant anything other than a casual conversation was off-limits. Frankly, I tried to limit those, too. Her toxic attitude was far too contagious for me.
Trinity was bombing the interview. It was painfully obvious she’d taken something right before recording.
She wasn’t the first celebrity to do a live interview high—plenty of us did. It was more common than most fans thought. Some of us were so used to being drunk or high we hid it well, or we could have it in our systems and still function “normally.” It looked like Trinity had crossed that line.
How much had she taken for it to be that obvious? And what had happened beforehand to trigger it?
I felt bad for her. But what could I do?
And let’s be serious, Trinity didn’t want help. She wanted attention.
I gave Ade his phone back.
“What, no comment?”
What did he expect me to say?
I shrugged. “She’s my ex’s ex-best friend. I feel bad for her, but I also know how much of a bitch she is. Now, where’s the beer?”
*
I didn’t sleep that night. I was having too much fun. But I did go for a shower when I got in, as I was meeting Tate for breakfast. There was no way I was meeting her without freshening up. I was trying to impress her, not make her want to vomit. Even I could smell how bad I smelled. That’s how you knew it was bad.
We chose to go to a little vegan sandwich shop in Midtown. After buying our food, we sat down and started eating.
“Did you see Trinity’s interview?” said Tate.
I nodded, biting into my wrap. Fluffy caramelized onion hummus filled my tastebuds. Yum.
“Why would she do that? She should know better by now,” said Tate. She’d barely touched her food.
I gestured to it, eyeing her warily.
Rolling her eyes at me, she picked up her wrap, bit into it, and swallowed. “Happy?”
“Yes. Continue.”
She wrinkled her nose, but carried on venting anyway. “I’ve never seen her act like that before. I mean, sure, she’s been drunk and high on camera before, but not like that. What the hell happened?”
“Alcohol?”
Tate pursed her lip. “No, I think it’s more than that.”
“Coke?”
“Jack! Be serious!”
I bit my lip, focusing my attention on my food.
“What? What is it?”
I put my wrap back onto the plate and looked at her. “Why do you care? You haven’t been friends for years.”
“Why does that mean I can’t be interested in what she does?”
“Well, I mean, it does benefit you in a roundabout way. It’ll make you look even better.”
“That’s not what I mean! I don’t want to see her humiliated. The press are cruel, you know that.”
“I do,” I grumbled. Too many times I’d seen the difficult side of the press. They just loved vilifying the drunken Black guy dating their white princess. “But would Trinity have your back if you were in her shoes?”
“First of all, I’d never wear her shoes, literally or figuratively. Second of all, she had my back when douchebag tried to black list me.”
“I’d forgotten about that,” I said. A lot had happened since then, in my defense. I’d also drank a lot since then. It affected your memory after a while.
“Yes. See? Should I say something?”
“Would she want you to?”
Tate lowered her head. “Doubtful.”
“Well then. You have your answer.”
“But—”
“What’s going to bite you in the ass more? Doing what she’d want you to do, or doing what you want to do?”
“Damn you!” She picked up her wrap and finally started eating it properly. So apparently, making her lose an argument was one way to get her to finish her meals. Probably not one I should try too often for the sake of my balls.