Call Me Vi | ONC 2024 Entry

Chapter 5

Within a few minutes, I was back at the hotel. All the while, I couldn't stop thinking about the fun Violetta and I had that afternoon. The way we goofed off and posed for one another, the way we knew just what the other liked in fashion. The way she said my name.

Rea. That's what she called me. Not Reagan. Not Reags like Hayden called me. Rea. A nickname that after such a short time knowing one another rolled effortlessly off of her tongue.

When I got back upstairs, I glanced down the hall to Violetta's original room. I wanted to give her back her hat and sunglasses.

Maybe I could just text her...

My gaze landed on a box that lay outside my hotel room door with the swooping logo of an F and S. I crouched down to inspect it as a note fluttered off the top.

Reagan,

There are some perks to being friends with a celebrity.

- Violetta

I smiled, digging around for my hotel key to unlock the door. Balancing the hat on the box, I entered my room. The adjoining door to Violetta's room was closed, but I could hear her voice coming from behind the door.

"...no, you don't understand." A pause, then, "Jess, come on. This isn't...no. I'm not doing this dance with you anymore. You made a mistake."

I set the box down on my bed and knocked lightly on the door.

"Violetta?" I called out.

There were a few muttered responses, along with a string of curse words, before the door opened.

It was Violetta who answered, but the woman who stood before me had rings of red around her eyes, and her mascara was dotted in wet streaks.

"Oh. Sorry, was I being too loud?" she asked. She crossed one ankle behind the other, rubbing at the skin with her foot.

I shook my head. "You weren't. I, um, wanted to give you your hat and glasses back." I held them out for her, and she took them from my hands, our fingers grazing momentarily. "Thank you, by the way. For the clothes."

She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're welcome. It's the least I could do. You think pretty quick on your feet, Reagan. I was too quick to judge you this morning."

"I appreciate that." My gaze flickered to her exhausted face. "Are you ok? I, um, heard voices."

Violetta swiped at her eyes with her shirt sleeve. I just now noticed that she was in sweats and a long-sleeved tee, much different than what she was wearing before. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just my jerk of an ex."

"Sorry to hear that." I bit my lip. "Listen, if you want someone to talk to, I'm next door. Until Sunday, that is. Although, are you getting a new room?"

"Thanks. Actually, about that—there's something I wanted to discuss." With a sigh, she cocked her head toward the inside of her room where the man in the suit whom I had seen following her around stood. "Bax, this is the girl I was telling you about."

"Nice to meet you," I said, offering my hand.

He shook it with a firm grip. "You're Meagan, right?"

"Reagan," I corrected.

"Uh huh." Baxter took out a pencil from behind his ear and opened up a little black book. "And what's your affiliation?"

Violetta groaned. "Bax, I already told you. She's clean."

Baxter eyed me warily. "That very well may be the case, but you remember the Santa Barbara incident, don't you? We can never be too careful."

I fished my driver's license out of my purse. "Reagan Porter. I work for a small, up-and-coming magazine about the best and brightest of Asheville. My editor is Spencer Larkin." I glanced at Violetta. "But I in no way use my role as a journalist to falsely identify the lives of those I write about. I look into the simpler things; the likes, the dislikes."