Chapter 4

Kate arrived early on Saturday, determined to turn my bedroom into a magazine-worthy fitting room. Her plan was for us to get ready together and decide on the perfect outfit.

I’d already settled on my usual jeans and Converse, but with Kate there was no escape. Between her suggestions and sheer enthusiasm, she convinced me to wear dark jeans, black boots with a slight heel, a fitted blouse that highlighted my waist, and a denim jacket. She styled my hair into soft waves and applied makeup that brought out the green of my eyes, flecked with gold.

Kate, meanwhile, after trying on half her suitcase, chose something much simpler: regular jeans and sneakers. The irony was obvious. When I gave her a reproachful look, she just shrugged and declared that her height worked in her favor, while mine needed “a little extra boost.”

Mom and Dad had decided to go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant in the city, so the house was quiet when the doorbell rang. I went to open it, completely unprepared for what I was about to see.

Jacob stood at the door. The issue wasn’t that he was there—that part I’d expected. It was how he looked.

I’ll admit it: I stared longer than what’s socially acceptable. Jeans. A white T-shirt. A leather jacket. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d run a hand through it instead of using a comb. So far from his usual impeccable suits. So different. And so… unsettling. I realized I was mesmerized when he had to repeat himself.

“Camila, I asked if you’re ready.”

“Oh—yes… of course. Sorry, I… um… I’ll get Kate.”

I let him in and rushed upstairs to grab her, still trying to understand why he’d rung the doorbell when he’d had keys to the house for years. It’s not like this was a date.

We came back down right away. When Kate saw him waiting in the living room, she nudged me with her elbow and shot me a knowing look that clearly said, ‘I’m not keeping quiet about this later’.

It was no secret that Jacob turned heads wherever he went; Kate had declared more than once that he was ‘ultra hot’, though always seemingly untouchable with his serious demeanor and formal clothes. But there, dressed casually and looking relaxed, he was harder to ignore. I had to remind myself several times not to keep staring.

He stood calmly and walked toward us.

At the bottom of the stairs, Jacob held my gaze with that unreadable expression that always threw me off—until Kate, in her effortless way, broke the silence and eased the tension.

“Ready for an unforgettable night?” she said, far too cheerfully, staring into nothing and gesturing dramatically, like she was on stage. “It’s going to be memorable. Unique. Spectacular.”

Jacob and I just looked at her. When she noticed neither of us had said anything, she turned to us with a confused expression.

“Sure.”

“Yes, of course.”

“The best night.”

“Unforgettable.”

Jacob and I answered in unison. The sarcasm was obvious. Kate eyed us suspiciously but chose to ignore it and drift back into her concert fantasy.

We hadn’t even left the house, and I was already regretting the night.

The three of us stepped outside and stopped by the car. Jacob opened both the passenger door and the back door at the same time, then gestured for us to get in.

Kate climbed into the back and, before closing the door, said, “Thank you, Jacob, for coming with us to the concert. I owe you one.”

Jacob smiled and shut her door. Then he turned to close mine, answering while looking straight into my eyes, “My pleasure.”

I broke eye contact and swallowed hard. This was going to be a long night.

During the drive, we talked about everything and nothing, but I couldn’t stop wondering what the dynamic would be like once we got inside the venue. Would he stay with us the whole time? Would we lose each other in the crowd and only see him from afar? The last thing I wanted was to be the one to ask. I was lost in thought when Kate’s question caught me off guard.

“So what did you and Justin decide about the concert?”

Jacob frowned and briefly glanced at me sideways before returning his eyes to the road.

«Kaaate…»

“Nothing. I told him we already had plans,” I answered shortly. I didn’t want to have this conversation with Jacob listening. Kate had all day to ask me this and somehow decided ‘now’ was the perfect moment.

I wanted to kick her in the shin.

“But did you plan to meet up at some point or anything?”

“Not really.”

“Did you agree to text each other?” she kept going. I glanced sideways at Jacob, who didn’t say anything, but the air in the car suddenly felt tense.

“Not in particular,” I replied. Before she could add anything else to her list of uncomfortable questions, I changed the subject. “What song do you think they’ll open with?”

“That’s a great question! I hadn’t even thought about it.”

That successfully distracted Kate, and for the rest of the drive, the conversation revolved entirely around Trollex.

We parked and headed toward the entrance. After passing through security, we reached an area with high tables and a bar for drinks and food. As soon as Jacob spotted a group of people, he nodded in their direction.

That’s when I understood: he had friends waiting.

So this wasn’t a sacrifice for him—it was a chance to meet up with his people and, on top of that, with a guaranteed ticket. He wasn’t doing me a favor; he was simply adapting to the situation. And still, I felt a flicker of disappointment. We walked over to them.

“Everyone, this is Camila, and her friend is Kate,” he introduced us with his usual restraint—but the way he said ‘Camila’, low and deliberate, sent a shiver through me again.

The greetings were quick until we reached his friend Steve, who stopped with a more playful air.

“Hi, Camila. I’m Steve, and that idiot over there is my best friend,” he said casually, pointing at Jacob and making me laugh. To my surprise, Jacob looked relaxed too. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Kate shot me a wide-eyed look, eyebrows raised, but managed to hold back the comments that usually get me into trouble.

“Steve,” Jacob warned, without adding anything else.

“Guilty as charged,” Steve said, raising his hands, amused.

“Nice to meet you, Steve. You can call me Cami. This is my friend Kate.”

“Nice to meet you, Kate. I hear you’re the one to blame for the concert.”

“To blame?” Kate laughed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, nothing—it doesn’t mean anything,” Jacob cut in quickly, shifting the topic with his flawless tone. “Other than these two ladies, who wants a beer?”

I soon realized that Steve was the only one who seemed to know who I was, because he spoke to me with more familiarity than the others. It was my first time spending time with someone from Jacob’s circle, and I was surprised to find that most of them were actually quite pleasant. Except, of course, for the fake blonde who appeared the moment Jacob offered to grab drinks.

She clung to his arm with practiced ease. Every time our eyes met, she shot me that haughty look that said, he’s with me. I thought I noticed Jacob was uncomfortable, though he didn’t push her away. Still, I noticed he didn’t hug her or wrap an arm around her waist—which gave me a strange, quiet sense of relief.

I think I’m analyzing this scene way too much. It shouldn’t matter to me.

Kate tugged at my arm and subtly pointed toward the stage. My cue.

“Jacob, we’d like to move a little closer. We want to stand over there,” I said, pointing to a side spot with a low barrier that would give me a better view than the floor.

He looked at me as if waiting for an explanation.

“Kate is obsessed with the drummer, and from here she can’t record properly,” I improvised. I didn’t want him to think we were running away from his group—though that’s exactly what we were doing. Nathalia, the blonde, made me nervous, and besides, Kate had waited too long for this concert to have her experience ruined. We weren’t aiming for the front row, just a bit closer.

Jacob seemed to think it over.

“All right. We’ll stay here. Try not to move around too much. I don’t want to lose sight of you.”

The tone of that last sentence surprised me. I’d expected reluctance, like someone reluctantly agreeing to babysit—but it sounded more like a protective warning. Not to mention, he’d spoken in the singular.

I chose not to give it more importance than necessary.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling despite myself.

Kate and I took our strategic spot. Being several inches taller than me, she climbed up onto the barrier with ease, phone in hand, ready to take hundreds of photos and videos. We’d chosen to stay slightly farther back to get a better view of the whole place and enjoy the stage without a wall of backs blocking us—though that was more for my benefit than hers.

The music thundered, and the crowd ignited. Kate screamed and jumped like a little kid on Christmas morning. That alone made it worth it for me. I knew this wasn’t my scene, but I couldn’t complain. Seeing her like that made her happiness contagious.

Every so often, I turned my head toward where Jacob was standing, silently reassuring him that I was staying put, keeping my end of the deal. Everything was fine—until I saw it.

Nathalia kissed him without warning.

The image hit me like a sharp blow. I didn’t like what I saw, so I quickly turned my attention back to the stage. I told myself it didn’t matter, that this shouldn’t affect me—but somehow, it had. So I decided not to look back again. As long as I stayed where I was, there was no reason—no need—to cross gazes with him anymore.