"So you're telling me that Ryder Black is having a party, you have a plus one, but I'm not invited?" Raina says, arms folded across her chest and a pout on her face as we sit in the half-empty diner. "You are the worst brother."

Waiters bustle by with heavy trays of food, but neither glance at us, probably accustomed to seeing these outbursts by now.

"Raina, it's a grown-up party," I say, tapping my menu against the table. "This isn't some house party in the Hills." Not that she should be going to those either, since this is real life, not 90210.

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't let me go to one of those, either." She rolls her eyes. "You don't even have a good reason not to bring me! Sixteen is practically an adult. And who will you even be taking to the party?"

Her sour expression suggests that she, too, is thinking of Alina Rostova, my ex-girlfriend and a pop singer at Volume. I would never take her, but since she was my plus-one at every other fancy event before, old habits die hard.

"First of all you're sixteen and they're serving alcohol. Second of all, you have school the next morning. Third—" I pause, unsure of what to say. "I'm not taking anyone."

"If I can't go, can you get me free merch?"

"I'll get you that and throw in a free ticket to his first show," I say, already knowing I'll regret the promise since she's too young to go to the show by herself and our mom definitely won't let her go with a friend. Then again, at the end of the day I love my little sister, which is why I don't want her to go to Ryder Black's launch party. If only I could get that through her head.

"VIP tickets?" she asks, tapping on her chin as though making some pivotal negotiation. "With a meet and greet pass?"

"Of course," I say. "Am I still the worst brother?"

She rolls her eyes. "Second-worst."

"I'm your only brother. Who's going to take the worst place?"

Just then, our waiter stops by the table. We order and as we wait for our food, I see someone I know and mildly despise. Naoya. Naoya Sugawa—resident Hollywood playboy, the heartthrob of the Twitter-verse, with four Billboard top 100 singles, and signed to Lagoon Records—is headed straight toward us.

Naoya Sugawa and I have had a less-than-friendly relationship since he was signed to Lagoon. He started at Volume, but after a record deal that had devastating financial consequences for him, he was dropped. I had nothing to do with it, but the taint of the association stains me, apparently, in his eyes. Still, I make it my business to know who all the biggest celebrities are in this town since I usually end up rubbing shoulders with them.

"Keep your head down," I hiss at Raina.

She looks amused, kicking her feet under the table, as one of her Doc Martens makes contact with my shin. Ouch. I scoot backwards. "Why? Did you see your ex-girlfriend or something? You know, I never did like Alina—"

"Shut up," I say, shoulders hunching over as I pick up my wine glass and take a long swig.

"No," she says, leaning back in her seat. "Make me."

"Raina," I say, trying to imitate our mother's warning tone. It doesn't work. Probably because, as Raina loves to remind me, I'm not her father. I'm her constantly exasperated, older brother.

She sports a mischievous, devilish grin. "Naoya!"

"Do you want a selfie?" Naoya asks as Raina's yellow-nailed hands wave wildly in the air. He probably thinks she's a crazed fan wanting a picture or an autograph. I don't even know if she is one, which says a lot less about our age difference and a lot more about the lack of time I spend with her. Our outings went from weekly to monthly when I moved out of the suburbs. "You are a fan, right?"

"Nah, but my brother is." Raina gestures toward me. "Do you know Leo Perez?"

"Hey, Leo. What's up, man?" He gives me a complicated bro-handshake that I do my best to replicate, my inadequacy making me feel far older than my twenty-nine years. Naoya jerks a thumb toward Raina before running a hand through his blue-dyed hair, which stands out against his pale skin. His expression is far too appraising for my sensibilities, eyeing her as though she's a piece of meat on a butcher's block. I have the urge to get out of here or throw a drink in his face. "Is this your little sister?"

"Raina Aguilar, meet Naoya Sugawa," I say, gesturing between the two in place of a response. "This is my sixteen-year-old sister."

Raina rolls my eyes as I emphasize her age. "Nice to meet you."

"A pleasure." He shakes her hand. "Mind if I sit down?"

I would mind. But in this city, telling lies only improves people's career prospects. "No, not at all. Please, take a seat."

"Thanks, bro."

"So, did you just happen to be in the area? Or do you just like the food here?" Already, I can sense the frenzied hordes of paparazzi lying in wait outside, ready to ambush him with questions about what he ordered and whether his latest date is his girlfriend. Nobody wants to get caught up in that crossfire. "

"Oh, well, you know, I just..." To my surprise, the usual playboy charmer is silent. Naoya rubs the back of his neck, where a temporary tattoo of a dancing bear rests. Part of his image is that he only has temporary tattoos, always causing fans to speculate about where and when he'll put his next one. It's good publicity, I guess, but to me, it just seems like a hassle to constantly put on and remove them. "I've heard good things about this place. I guess my friends weren't wrong."

To my surprise, Raina stares sullenly at her phone. I open my mouth to tell her to put it away, before stopping myself. She's right. I'm not her father. And I'd hate to draw attention to her lack of manners in front of one of the world's biggest pop stars.

Still, I wonder who she's waiting for a text from. Part of me feels guilty that I don't know, and that I'm not even sure she'd tell me if I asked. I brush off the concern, the shame wedging into a locked compartment of my mind that I refuse to open.

"Yeah," I say. Maybe Naoya is here to talk about Ryder Black, him and every other pop artist worth their salt in a ten-mile radius. "Are you coming to the party?"

There is no other party that I could be referring to. Naoya knows this. Yet he scratches his chin like he's trying to remember what I could be talking about. I drum my fingers under the table, tapping on my knees as I wait for him to speak. Though to be fair, the man probably has received a dozen invitations to ten different parties in the past hour, so he really might not know which one I'm talking about.

"Ryder Black's party," Raina says for emphasis, her voice dripping with disdain. For Naoya? For me? For whoever isn't texting her?

"Why? Will your sister be there?" Naoya asks, gesturing toward Raina.

I lose my appetite immediately.

"I'm sitting right here, you know," Raina says, her nose practically pressed against her phone screen. "You could ask me to my face."

I quirk a smile. That's the sister I know and love.

"Nah, I already know. You're sixteen years old and your brother has a stick up his—" he pauses, as though reconsidering his words for once since he's in the presence of a minor. Then I realize it's just so he can pop his gum. "Butt. You're probably not going unless you sneak out."

Never mind. Raina's eyes light up and her phone clatters to the counter. She sizes him up. Is she... batting her lashes and twirling her hair? I'm going to be sick. "Maybe I will."

"Then maybe I'll see you there, Raina." He lifts his water glass as though in a toast. "To teenage rebellion."

Naoya is twenty-four. When he was a teenager, my sister was still in elementary school.

"To not doing dumb crap like encouraging a sixteen-year-old girl to go to a Hollywood party," I say. "Naoya, I think I see a TMZ reporter calling your name. Why don't we get lunch sometime so we can catch up?"

We lock eyes and we both know we will never get lunch together. Still, the cue gets him to leave, at least. "I'll see you around, Perez. And maybe your little sister, too."

My hands clench into fists. Before I can think about swinging a punch, he walks off. Is it just me, or did that last sentence sound like a threat?

#

@TMZ: Watch @NaoyaS confrontation with @LeoJPerez in L.A. restaurant! Video below

@NatalieJ4: @TMZ who are these people and why should I care

@TTang: @TMZ doesn't Naoya Sugawa get into a 'confrontation' with someone every day? Typical attention seeking 'celeb' who thinks he's famous

@bts4eva: @TTang 4 million Twitter followers, 2 platinum albums vs your 247 followers, Hunny