Chapter 1: Deleted on Live TV

During a game segment on the live reality show, my finger slipped and I hit the wrong button, accidentally deleting my boyfriend’s contact.

Immediately, my phone started buzzing like it was about to explode—Tyler was blowing up my notifications with messages, and in my head I could practically hear the reality show soundtrack swelling in the background. It felt like he was having a meltdown in real time, and the entire country was about to witness it all go down.

The very next second, my pop-star boyfriend started flooding my phone with texts:

[You deleted me? You’ve got three seconds to add me back.]

[Ignoring me? Really putting on a show, huh.]

[Playing hard to get? Hilarious. People are lined up from here to Canada for me, you think I care?]

[Why aren’t you answering? Did you find another guy?]

[So what if you deleted me? I don’t care. Seriously, I don’t care at all.]

[Ever tried quitting coffee? That’s how I feel right now. How are you not dying to talk to me?]

[I can’t take it anymore! Ugh, Maddie, I was wrong. If you’ve got another guy, I’ll be your secret lover. Please, just add me back.]

His texts kept popping up, one after another. They filled the studio’s big screen like digital confetti. The whole audience was loving it, and I just stood there, frozen, my cheeks burning as the broadcast chat blew up with laughter and wild speculation. Suddenly, my private life was everyone’s favorite new soap opera.

My agent had worked her magic and landed me on a brand-new reality show, but the twist? My half-sister—the infamous love child—was also a contestant.

To make things even juicier, my half-sister Autumn wasn’t just anybody; she was already a big deal in the industry, the kind of girl who had her own perfume line and a fan club that could fill a football stadium—think Taylor Swift at MetLife. Me? I was basically a footnote. The network was practically drooling at the chance to hype up the “sister duo” angle and chase those sweet, sweet ratings.

Sure enough, the second Autumn Rivera and I appeared on camera, the internet went absolutely wild:

[Wow, my Autumn is so pretty, pure as a white lily.]

[Wait, why is Madison Rivera even on this show? Does she even have the clout? Probably got the spot through shady means. Yikes.]

[What’s up with Madison? Wearing the same dress as my girl—jealous much? Try-hard.]

It was the same old song. Every time Autumn and I shared a screen, I got roasted. Like a Thanksgiving turkey. You’d think I’d be numb to it by now, but it still stung—just a little less each time.

The host saw the live viewership numbers spike and jumped right in to kick off the show.

He grinned like he’d just won the lottery, and you could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes as he announced the first game. The way he was eating up the drama, you’d think he’d written the script himself.

The first game: call the person pinned at the top of your contacts. Whoever gets their call answered first wins. Of course they’d pick something like this.

When our phone screens were cast onto the big screen, everyone realized Autumn and I had the same pinned contact.

The studio air crackled with tension. The audience leaned in, and I could hear the camera guys muttering bets under their breath—like we were about to see the Bachelor’s final rose. This was the kind of moment producers dream about: two sisters, one superstar contact, and a million viewers ready to lose it.

Instant drama.

The host, always ready to stir the pot, told us both to call Tyler Grant—the top pop star—at the same time and see whose call he’d answer first.

He was practically vibrating with glee. The chat went wild. Fans screaming, shippers losing their minds. Everyone thought Autumn and Tyler made the perfect couple on screen—at least, that’s what they believed. What nobody knew was that Tyler and I had been quietly dating for three years. Our relationship was Hollywood’s best-kept secret, hidden behind cryptic Instagram stories and late-night phone calls.

Don’t judge. Honestly, we’d just argued this morning over whether sweet or savory grits were better.

It hadn’t even been half a day since our fight, and now I had to call him on live TV? Where was my dignity?

Whatever, sweet grits forever.

I hesitated, clutching my phone. Autumn covered her mouth and snickered at me:

“What’s wrong, sis? Afraid to call? Scared you’ll lose?”

Gotta admire her confidence, I guess.

She’s so shameless sometimes, I almost envy her.

I sneered, “Who’s afraid?”

We both whipped out our phones and FaceTimed Tyler at the same time.

The ringtone echoed through the studio: “Doo doo doo.” The classic iPhone trill. My heart pounded so loud I was sure the mics could pick it up.

Everyone held their breath, eyes glued to the big screen, trying to guess whose call he’d pick up.

But as soon as Autumn called, her call got declined instantly.

Autumn, clearly embarrassed, tried to play it off: “Maybe he’s busy.”

Some viewers weren’t buying it:

[If he’s busy, why didn’t he hang up on Madison’s call too?]

Autumn tried again, but her chat window flashed a big red exclamation mark: “You’re not friends with this user. Can’t send messages.”

Tyler had actually deleted her.

Autumn’s face went from pale to flushed, her expression twisted, a mess of shock and embarrassment.

Seeing her looking so wrecked, the host quickly changed the subject and rolled out the next game.

I put my phone away, but accidentally deleted Tyler’s contact too. Seriously? Not again.

The very next second, my friend request page blew up with notifications.

A flood of requests—all from Tyler.

Every word he sent was projected onto the big screen.

[You deleted me? Three seconds to add me back.]

[Ignoring me? Really putting on a show.]

[Playing hard to get? Hilarious. People are lined up from here to Canada for me, you think I care?]

[Yeah, I admit I didn’t answer your call earlier, but that was because some idiot kept spamming me. Good thing I deleted her.]

[Thinking about it, savory grits aren’t that great. Add me back and let’s discuss sweet vs. savory.]

[You’re not actually mad, right?]

[So what if you deleted me? I don’t care, really, not even a little.]

[Why aren’t you answering? Did you find a new guy?]

[Ever tried quitting coffee? How can you stand ignoring me?]

[I can’t take it anymore! Ugh, Maddie, I was wrong. If you have another guy, I don’t mind being your secret lover. Please add me back.]

[I don’t even need a title, babe. Just reply to me, how am I supposed to live without you?]

I just stared, mouth open, in total shock.

The friend requests paused for a split second. I thought he was done, but then my phone rang. It was Tyler.

No way was I letting him get me roasted on national TV. Afraid he’d say something totally wild on the live broadcast, I quickly turned off my screen.

The live show was trending everywhere thanks to all this accidental drama.

Backstage, as I was peeling off my makeup, Ms. Carter rushed over:

“Maddie, I can’t believe you know Tyler Grant! Tell me, are you two, you know, a thing?”

Just as I was about to spill, she frowned:

“Maddie, why would Tyler mix you up with Autumn in his contacts? You really lucked out today, otherwise it would’ve been so awkward.”

I croaked, “Ms. Carter, what if—just maybe—he didn’t mix us up…” My voice barely made it out.

She scoffed, “Pfft, if he didn’t, I’ll dye my hair green!”

I was about to record her bold claim when her phone rang.

She came back, practically bouncing, excitedly patting my shoulder:

“Maddie, a dating show wants you as a guest! Fifty grand! I’ve seen the contract—it’s basically free money!”

She hurried me off to sign it.

Didn’t even bother reading the contract. Just signed.