Disguise

1, 2, 3, 4.

The beat dropped like a thunderclap, thumping through the speakers and vibrating in every ribcage in the building. Lights flashed, hips swayed, and just like that, the party roared to life.

"Hello, Las Vegas! Thank you all for coming out tonight!" the girl on stage hollered, a grin stretching across her face like she'd swallowed the sun. "Seriously, you guys rocked!"

Kye. The name on everyone’s lips.

Wearing a cropped denim jacket, ripped high-waisted jeans, and blue sneakers that matched her unapologetically cocked cap, she looked like a walking music video. The cool kind.

"We love you, Kye!" The crowd chanted in chorus, like loyal subjects hailing their queen.

With a dazzling smile and a flurry of blown kisses, she descended from the stage. The crowd’s chant—Kye! Kye!—trailed her like glitter on a breeze.

The moment her sneakers hit the ground, a man appeared like a genie from backstage, holding out a bottle of water like it was an Olympic torch.

“Thanks,” she said, flashing him a tired but genuine smile.

“Anytime,” he nodded and melted back into the chaos.

Another figure approached—clipboard, headset, full white pants, blue-striped shirt, and the eternal expression of a man clinging to his last nerve. Bob. Her manager.

“Hey, Bob,” she greeted, tossing him a lazy wave.

“That was pure awesomeness, Kye.”

“You know it,” she smirked.

“Let’s not inflate your ego more than necessary,” he teased, rolling his eyes so hard they probably saw the back of his brain.

She giggled and stretched her arms skyward like a free bird. “I’m going home!”

“Home?” His eyebrows did a little dance of confusion.

“Yes. Home. Don’t tell me you forgot to notify the agency.”

“I won’t tell you,” he replied with a sheepish grin.

She blinked. “You didn’t tell them?”

“Oh, I told them,” he said, trying to look offended. “But there’s a twist.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of twist?”

He shrugged like he was narrating a plot twist in a soap opera. “You’ll find out when you get there.”

Kye groaned. “Fine. At least they said yes. One more year and I’m a free-range chicken!”

Bob squinted. “So, what’s the grand plan once you touch down in Norville?”

Her eyes lit up. “I’m going back to high school, Bob. I want to be a regular student.”

He blinked, then blinked again. “I thought you said exciting stuff. That sounds like detention with extra steps, and by the way, that ain't happening gurl.”

“Hey! You’re my manager, not my dad.”

“Well, this manager is running to the agency to cancel your teenage rebellion.”

“Bob, please.” She clasped her hands dramatically. “I’ve been homeschooled forever. I want real friends. Real life. I want to laugh over stupid memes, cry over dumb boys, gossip in hallways. I want to remember my teen years as more than just recording studios and press tours.”

“But you have friends!”

She let out the most unladylike snort. “You mean Antha, Gilda, and Lily? Please. Gilda’s always like, ‘Did you see that car? I’m buying it.’ Then Lily swoops in, ‘Already did, babe.’ And Antha turns to me like, ‘Kye, you getting one?’ And I nod while calculating the number of instant noodles I could buy instead.”

Bob raised a brow. “They're not even your age, Kye.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, hands in the air like she’d just dropped a mic. “I want friends who don’t wear high heels for brunch. I want a bestie I can share secrets and Skittles with. Someone who won’t judge me for binge-watching cartoons. I want to a living model for my future children. Think about them, Bob!”

He crossed his arms. “So your future daughter’s going to be fangirling over boys and writing love letters?”

Kye rolled her eyes. “That’s all you got from my speech?”

“I’m just saying... Last time you tried regular school, I lost half my hair. Half.”

She chuckled, not even trying to look guilty. “But it grew back nicely.”

He glared. “Eggs. Glue. The ‘We Hate Kye’ manager fan club.”

“The memes were kinda funny.”

“You are lucky I still work for you.”

She grinned. “This time will be different. Lowkey. Undercover. Invisible Kye.”

He blinked. “Incognito? I don’t even want to know. Just let me get home to my wife in one piece.”

Kye gave a dramatic sigh. “Finally. I'm going home.”

---

In NorVille

Inside a mansion so pristine it practically sparkled, a woman was marching around like a general before battle.

“Clean the room across from Ken’s. Our girl’s coming home!” she announced with the glee of someone preparing for royalty.

The kitchen welcomed her with the rich, glorious smell of something delicious, and she gasped, “Is that... food? Real food?!”

From around the corner came the thundering feet of a small boy. Ken—age seven, tablet in hand, energy level: caffeine on legs.

“Moooom!” he shouted, eyes wide. “The article says Sis is coming home today!”

“Yes, baby, Kylie’s on her way,” she confirmed, bopping his nose.

“For real? Like... in person? Not on YouTube?”

“Yes, sweetheart. She’ll be here soon. Mr. Alex went to get her.”

Ken took off like a rocket, presumably to draw a welcome sign or inform his action figures of the incoming celebrity. His mother just laughed, pure joy bubbling in her chest.

---

Ten Hours Later – Airport

The airport pulsed with anticipation. Fans waved banners. Some wore T-shirts with Kye’s face plastered across them. Others held up signs like “Kye 4 President (of My Heart)” and “Marry Me or I Riot.”

Then she appeared.

Red crop top. High-waisted pants. Messy bun. Sunglasses that said I’m famous and I know it. She wheeled her suitcase like it was on a catwalk. Security had to hold the line like Spartans at the gate.

Reporters swarmed.

“Why are you back, Kye?”

“What’s the plan?”

“Is it true you’ve left music?”

She answered while sporting a smile on her face. “ I came back because I miss my family, and I just want to spend time with them.”

Another reporter pushed forward. “How does it feel, being back?”

“Happiness,” she said simply. “Pure, undiluted happiness. I’d love to chat more, but I’m running on zero sleep and two slices of airport pizza. Catch me next time?”

The crowd cooed in understanding.

Then a voice rang out above the rest: “We love you, Kye!”

She turned and waved. “I love you, too!” She blew kisses, which only fueled the chaos.

With security parting the sea of people, Kye stepped outside, paused, and took a deep breath.

“Home, sweet home.”