Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
ELODIE
Acting was never just acting.
The promotional obligations that came along with it assured that much.
You weren’t just on a show, or in a movie , you were in a seemingly never-ending press run. You had to be prepared at any moment to talk about—or get berated over or laughed at because of—every time anyone had ever put a camera in your face.
With grace.
And detail.
Oh, and look good while you did it.
It was exhausting.
I took it in stride though—it was part of the deal, and certainly nothing new. Even back when I was a little girl, when Pierre and I would act in my mother’s homemade short films, we’d do these over-the-top red-carpet interviews—insolent, manipulative reporter, and emotional diva actors.
That was fun.
But it has also somewhat prepared me—I had amusing memories I could call on to run on a loop in the back of my end to help keep my expression serene as paparazzi rudely screamed directions at me, some of them making crude comments about my body, asking if I’d pepper-sprayed any more fans.
I ignored it.
That didn’t make it any less cruel, but it gave me the mental and emotional barrier I needed to make it through this convention without making my insistence to everyone that I’d be fine a lie. And once we made it inside the space to actually interact with the people who had a true interest in being at the event versus a chance to get a glimpse of—and a rise out of—celebrities, it was a totally different vibe.
It was a quick trip to LA—just Alec and I for this one, which gave me an opportunity to observe him a bit more in real time. He was roughly the same age as Shaw, late twenties, and they’d been acting for around the same length of time. Alec though had been a highly visible football prodigy since he was a kid, so he was more than accustomed to the scrutiny, the questions, all that.
He was a pro at this.
From everything I could discern, he actually was the nice guy many people swore was some sort of act he put on. I watched the genuine kindness in his eyes as he interacted with his fans at the short Meet & Greet that would fulfill our obligation for the day. And when my much shorter line ran out, he made a point of simply integrating me into his fan experience so I wouldn’t just be there looking awkward.
It ended up being fun.
We got fast food for the short, private flight back, and I ended up listening to his stories—the injury that ended his career, the depression he fell into after, how he got into acting. He listened to mine too—the impact of losing my mother so young, then my father. The wild child behavior, and how that got old.
By the time we got off the flight, we were homies and parted ways with a quick hug.
I…didn’t know I was going to regret that hug, but by the time I made it back to my building—which had been free of any nosy press for a while—apparently, I was the subject of a new scandal.
Budding Love Between Co-Stars? was the tamest of the headlines I saw on a quick scroll of my tags. Pure absurdity, really, paired with the pictures of the most innocuous hug ever .
We’d even fucking fist-bumped after!
Apparently, those were signals of something much more salacious—I groaned when Chloe’s name popped up on my phone, calling me as I walked into the building.
Into a chorus of my name.
“ What the fuck? ” I muttered, not realizing until right that moment there was a new group of nosy bloggers headed my way—luckily intercepted by my building security as the front desk person ushered me to the elevator.
This was what I hated.
I’d had a great day, bonded with my co-star, maybe picked up a few fans, and now this shit was killing my vibe. I took the call from Chloe—just reassurance more than anything else. Being connected romantically to Alec wasn’t a bad thing, and it could be cleared up easily, with proper timing. If there was a quick jump to deny it, there would actually be an opposite affect—making it look like I was sensitive about it, so it must be true.
The only action to take here was…to be quiet.
Which I could do.
I was tired anyway and was much more interested in getting a shower and getting into my pajamas so I could go to bed. I did text Logan about me finding a new place though—home was supposed to be a sanctuary, and I loved my building, but getting ambushed outside the lobby was not it.
Shaw didn’t think so either.
“So…about that security,” was the first thing out of his mouth when I answered his video call.
I laughed. “You’re not going to tease me about me and Alec apparently going together now?”
“I’m getting to that, but let’s start with—I see you’re playing, so I’m just going to take it upon myself. Do not fire them this time.” His face and his voice were stern, both of which were sexy, but I knew that wasn’t quite the energy for right now.
“You don’t have to do that—I’ll hire somebody,” I promised. “I’ve been researching, but I always get overwhelmed. Do you have a recommendation?”
“Yeah, her name is Tamra, she works with Kingston Whitfield’s head of security. And she’s already hired, actually,” Shaw admitted. “Alec told me you didn’t bring anybody to the convention with you.”
“Because I knew he had security,” I defended. “And between their two big asses, who was going to try me?”
“The reporters that were hanging around outside your building, according to these clips from social media,” he countered. “I know you love your place, but?—”
“I need to move—I know, Dad .” I laughed. “Did you call me just to be bossy, or…?”
“I’m being bossy?”
“Very much so. But you’re trying to be protective, so…I guess I’ll allow it.”
He chuckled. “I just…shit. It would really mess me up if something happened to you. Something more ,” he added, and I shook my head.
Weeks later, I was still having nightmares about the man who grabbed me in that parking lot. I’d declined pressing charges just so I could move on.
“I’m listening. I promise,” I said, picking up my tablet from where I’d left it on my nightstand. “But I’m also tired, so can we talk about something less serious?”
“Go for it. Tell me how the convention went.”
“The reporters and shit outside were a little much, as usual, but outside of that I had a great time,” I told him. “I’m trying to see if I can find pictures now.”
I had to go to social media for that, and my notifications were a mess of tags about that Alec shit—most of which I could easily ignore.
Except…
“ The fuck ?”
“What’s up?” Shaw asked. I glanced away from the tablet just long enough to see him peering into the screen with a frown.
Instead of a verbal answer, I turned my tablet toward my camera, holding it up and adjusting the position. “Do you see this bullshit?”
@StellaBella—LOL here we go. I BEEN told y’all that bitch was for the streets, but her little princess act had y’all so fooled.
@StellaBella—she’s a pass-around, your honor! The HOMIE THOUGH?! Wow. She always been a bold one I guess.
@StellaBella—I’d ride my brother’s wave too—unfortunately I can’t sing a lick. But shit…maybe that don’t even matter LOLOLOLOLOL.
I didn’t even follow Stella, but the tweets were going viral now, so of course they’d made their way in front of me. The thing was though, I’d never even officially met Stella—her brother was Josiah, who was in a dope indie R&B duo whose performances I’d been to a couple times, but that was is.
I didn’t know this girl, and she for damn sure didn’t know me.
And yet she felt this comfortable throwing shots?
Cool.
I hit the “reply” button on one of the tweets and started typing.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Shaw asked, and I paused to look at him.
“Giving your girlfriend the attention she so clearly wants from me—did you tell her about us dating or something?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t tell her shit, and she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Then why is she so conveniently pressed about me?”
“Because…” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We…”
“You were fucking her,” I guessed, and he nodded.
“Yeah. And I thought we were on the same page, but I guess not. I let her know I wasn’t really with it anymore, and she flipped a little bit—asked me if it was because of you.”
I tossed a hand up. “ Why would she land there of all places if you hadn’t told her anything?”
“I think it was just a series of coincidences, honestly,” he said. “We happen to be working together, you were spotted driving out of my neighborhood the day after the attack, and…the night you came over… she had wanted to come over. I told her no. She put it together.”
“Oh. Okay. I guess I can see it,” I admitted. “But none of this is any reason for her to be coming at me spicy. I can pretend not to see a lot, but I can’t let visible disrespect ride. Not like this .”
Shaw pushed out a long sigh. “I think you know what your PR would say.”
“Yeah, I just don’t care.”
He grunted. “Okay—tell me what you’re going to say. Read off what you were typing.”
“Uh…really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You don’t want me to do that.”
His eyes went wide. “I…think I need you to, at this point.”
“Fine.” I laughed, turning the tablet screen back on so I read off what I’d typed.
Hey @stellabella just mention me next time scary ass bitch. You know entirely too much about me (fan behavior) for me to have no clue what has you so pissy. Take a sitz bath and simmer down.
Shaw was quiet, for a long time, then finally spoke.
“First of all… no. Delete that. Second, a sitz bath?”
“I’m not deleting shit,” I countered. “And a sitz bath…is really for post-partum mothers, but I’m just implying that her pussy stinks.”
“ Ellie. ”
“ I didn’t start it ,” I huffed.
Even though I knew that wasn’t how it would be seen.
She was trying to be undercover petty, but I wasn’t into all that—I was a fighter.
Literally.
If I sent that tweet, I would be painted as the aggressor and her part would be all but erased, while I just looked like a bully.
She may have started this , but my response would be starting a whole other thing.
I hated it.
I hated it so much.
Especially once the narrative became that I was “too scared” to reply, which was far from the truth—at least in the way they meant it. I had a brand, a reputation, contracts to protect, and I couldn’t put all that in jeopardy based on some weird bitch’s inability to handle her emotions.
The full-circle moment of it all was heavy .
Six months ago, I was so envious of her it made me sick to my stomach—the difference was, I never blamed her for that.
And of course, there was the fact that Shaw and I weren’t even doing anything.
A question the hosts on Arnez and Arizona had no qualms asking me directly a few days later when I was a guest on their live radio show. Really, this was supposed to be another promotional piece for Kinfolk , but with all the buzz about my personal life in the last week, of course it went there.
“Shaw Brooks. Whassup with you and that pretty-ass dark chocolate man?” Arnez asked me in a low voice, leaning in, as if he weren’t connected to a mic.
“Shaw is a great friend of mine—has been since we did One Day Sober together a few years back. It’s why I knew I could go to him in that vulnerable moment when I was terrified after being attacked. It’s a shame that people are turning it into something it wasn’t.”
“Okay, but was it ev ? —”
“Speaking of the attack—” Arizona spoke at the same time, talking over her co-host. “Some people are saying you overreacted—that you should have just talked to the guy. What do you say to that?”
“I think they should spend that energy educating people on how not to approach someone you allegedly just want to talk to—lurching at them, grabbing them, screaming at them, all that. None of those are ways to get a conversation. They’re ways to get pepper-sprayed, which is exactly what I did, because I feared for my life.”
“As you should,” Arnez agreed. “We all saw the videos of that man running up on you, and he was not trying to ask if you were familiar with your Lord and savior Jesus Christ.”
“ Thank you !” Arizona chirped. “I don’t know why folks want to act like you were supposed to…hell, I don’t know what they thought, but I woulda did the same shit you did, boo.”
I laughed. “Thank you, the support is appreciated.”
“We got you, friend,” Arnez said. “You know some of these folks just wanna have something to say ’cause they don’t like you, which is laughable, cause you don’t be bothering nobody. Just being pretty and making your TV shows, now, but even back in the day, you were just the fun drunk girl at the party.”
“That’s…very accurate.” I giggled. “And it was fun while it lasted, but I had to grow up, so I could get serious about my career. My family has a legacy I want to continue forever.”
Arizona nodded. “Which is absolutely a vibe. But…okay, you’ve kinda mentioned two things here—making a change, and preserving your family legacy. Both of those things were recently the subject of some messy ass tweets from Stella Bellamy—who was romantically attached to Shaw recently. What’s the tea, friend?”
“There isn’t any.” I shrugged. “I’ve never even had a conversation with Stella, so for her to take to the internet to try to ‘drag’ me is honestly strange. I’m worried about her. I hope her friends and family are making sure she’s okay after an episode like that.”
Arnez let out a bark of laughter. “Not you saying the bitch was having a mental health crisis.”
“I’m not!” I denied. “I have no idea what’s happening with her, but I hope she seeks healing instead of trying to come for a woman who harbored no ill will toward her.”
“Sis, I caught the past tense on that, but I’ma let you cook.” Arizona laughed. “Especially since I know you’ll throw hands.”
“I’m not that girl anymore.” I giggled. “Unless I have to be!”
The rest of the interview was fun—as it always was with them on their hilariously messy show—and I was able to loop us back to the original promotional purpose of me being a guest.
Chloe was actually at their studio with me, and she and I had dinner after to discuss a few things in the works. I didn’t have any problem getting safely home with Tamra at my side—she was actually really cool and didn’t “look” like security, which was perfect.
Just before I passed out, my phone lit up with a text from Shaw—I’d turned off all notifications except from my top ten, which I’d never taken him out of.
Shaw: Proud of you for handling those questions the way you did. Professionally let the world know you would beat her ass.
I grinned, then typed back. Thank you. I hope she got the message.
Shaw: What would you have said if Arnez had got that question off about us?
I didn’t have to ask for clarity because I knew exactly which one he was talking about—the question about if there had ever been anything between me and Shaw, even if there wasn’t now.
The question Arizona had saved me from.
I’m not sure. I think I would’ve blurted it out though, probably.
Shaw: That we were together and I broke your heart?
That we were together and I was too toxic for us to continue in a healthy manner.
Shaw: Toxic is harsh.
It’s the truth, though.
I was far enough removed now to admit it.
Yes, he was the one to initiate the breakup.
But he most certainly didn’t cause it.
Shaw: We live and we learn, right?
Absolutely I texted back. See you tomorrow?
Shaw: Yeah. See you tomorrow.