Pieces of Us

Chapter 11 Give It All

Amity

My face splits into a toothy smile as the Uber pulls up to my modern-style home. It looks the same as it always did, but I especially love it in the lead-up to summer. It’s spring, so the grass is lush and green, and vibrant flowers and plants dot the driveway.

Of course, being in the industry Dad is in, our home is always undergoing various renovations, so I’m not surprised to see the lighter stone that once led up to the entrance had been replaced with a slate grey one. Our home is in a relatively wealthy area of the Gold Coast, overlooking the ocean. It was, of course, architecturally designed by Uncle Jacob, but it’s the position that elevates our home, in my opinion. Is the house too big for one person? Absolutely. But it is Dad’s pride and joy.

Quickly unbuckling my seatbelt, I climb out of the car and a sense of nostalgia hits me. I haven’t stepped foot in this town since I left, and even though I’ve travelled to the most beautiful places on earth, there truly is no place like home.

‘Dad, I’m home!’ I practically sprint the stairs, skipping one or two at a time. My bags are long forgotten at the bottom. I’ll come back for them a little later.

‘It’s open, princess,’ his voice echoes through the vastness of the house.

‘Oh, it’s open, is it? What happened to always locking the door?’ I sass, going in search of him, down the hallway that leads to our open-plan kitchen.

‘Surprise!’ I jump several feet in the air as a chorus of voices ring out around me.

‘What the hell?’ I yelp, my hand on my heart as I survey the kitchen. Dad has a shit-eating grin on his face as he sits in a wheelchair with his leg up in a cast. He’s the first person I want to hug. ‘Dad!’ I cry, bending down to envelope him in my arms. ‘I missed you.’ Tears prickle in the corners of my eyes. It has been five or so months since I last saw him.

‘Missed you too, kiddo.’

When I pull back, I scream in delight at the person right beside him.

‘Lily!’ I gather my best friend in my arms, rocking sidewards and back and forth, gripping her tightly.

‘It’s been so long!’ She squeezes me tighter.

Glancing over her shoulder, I spot Rome. I wiggle my fingers at him before reaching out and grabbing his hand.

Out of all our friends, I saw him the most recently when he met me in New York. He was there for some finance conference on Wall Street, and I was there on business. I absolutely loved showing him around and introducing him to all my new friends. He loved it, too, and who wouldn’t? Being surrounded by hot models, celebrities and influencers. He even met Jagger. By the end of his stay, they were practically best buds.

Next, I greet two of my forever favourite people, Uncle Jacob and Jas. They’re both beaming at me, like I am them.

‘I missed you so much.’ I leap into my uncle’s arms. Despite what his son did to me, Uncle Jacob will always be my second dad. I practically grew up seeing him almost every day of my life until…well, until Lincoln went and fucked it all up. He was there for me when I needed a unicorn band aid. He showed up to all of my extracurricular activities—even though I was shit at all of them, like art classes, karate and my failed piano lessons. He never missed a birthday, and he was the one who took me to get my first pads when Dad was stuck in a meeting. Even though I severed all ties to his son, I’ve spoken to Uncle Jacob every week, along with Jas. What I admire most about both of them is they’ve never made me feel uncomfortable about the elephant in the room (AKA their son and brother.) They simply don’t mention him, as if he doesn’t exist. And for that, I am grateful.

‘Hi, gorgeous,’ Uncle Jacob greets me softly,as he envelopes me in a great big hug and bends to kiss the top of my head. He is a distinguished version of Lincoln. Handsome as hell, but with a better moral compass. Tears spring to my eyes at his familiar spicy scent that always tickles my nose. He towers over me, and despite the dustings of silver in his chocolate-brown hair, he hasn’t aged a day since the last time I saw him.

‘Don’t forget about me!’ Jas pipes up from beside us. Letting go, I race into her open arms. She is the little sister I never had. Breaking up with Linc meant our connection was fractured. I no longer was a fixture in their home, and when I left, screens separated us. It wasn’t the same as being there in person, day in and day out.

‘I can’t believe you’re a full-blown teenager now.’ I’m in disbelief. When I left, she was no older than ten or eleven, and now she’s seventeen. She’s had her first period, her first kiss and her first heartbreak (although it was nothing like the one I went through, since she moved onto the next guy in a week).

‘Pft. I’m practically an adult.’ She rolls her eyes. She is gorgeous and has loads more confidence than I ever did at her age.

‘You keep thinking that, missy,’ Uncle Jacob quips from the side, earning him a snort from Jas.

‘Whatever, old man,’ she jests before turning back to me. ‘After lunch, girl time plus Rome, so we can catch up on all the celebrity goss.’

I smile with myrrh. This feels like home.

The dining room is loaded with food, and while I eye off the chips and gravy, I know I can’t veer too far off the regimented eating plan that I’ve worked hard to create and maintain.

After Lincoln and Billie, I spiralled big time into a world of weight loss needles, not eating and an unhealthy fixation on exercise. I was officially diagnosed with Obesophobia, which centred on this obsession to be thin. I wanted to erase…me. I wanted to prove to Lincoln, Billie and everyone back at home who had ever bullied me, commented on my weight, and made all my fears and insecurities come to life, that I was good enough. In my mind, that equated to obsessing over perfection, and to me, perfection meant being scarily thin.

When I began the injections in my senior year, the doctor had diagnosed me ‘obese’, but as soon as I hit Los Angeles, it became apparent to me that it was much easier to be prescribed these drugs without proof. As long as I was paying them well, I didn’t need to provide paperwork, and my health was the last thing on their minds.

The sick thing was, the world—and especially people in Los Angeles—glamourised skinny.

I overserved myself with injections, exercise, and starving myself to the point of passing out. It wasn’t until Jagger witnessed me stabbing myself with a needle that he intervened and encouraged me to seek help. Dad and Mum were called straight away out of dire concern for me, and together, they helped me check into a rehab for my weight loss addiction and associated mental health issues. As a result of my lifelong body issues, my breakup with Lincoln and his relationship with Billie, my depression exacerbated. I not only lost someone I loved with all my heart; in my mind, I lost him to the antithesis of me.

Being in rehab was the toughest experience of my life. Having to deal with my emotions—hating myself, not feeling good enough for Lincoln, my inclination to workmyself to skin and bone rather than ever be that chubby girl everyone made fun of again—destroyed me in every way.

There were severe withdrawal symptoms, including appetite and food cravings returning, weight gain, my blood sugar increasing, my blood pressure rising, my cholesterol changing, and worst of all, my mood swings. I lashed out so hard at my family and staff that I have no idea how they didn’t perform an exorcism on me. Shame infiltrated every fibre of my being. For the first couple of weeks, I seemed to get worse. Since they wouldn’t let me take the weight loss medication and they practically force-fed me, I found myself doing hundreds and hundreds of sit-ups and lunges in my room. At one point, I even ran on the spot until I exhausted myself.

With gentleness, finesse and intense therapy and around-the-clock care, I had mini breakthroughs as the days went on.

After eight weeks of in-house treatment, daily individual and group counselling sessions and practical support, working with some of America’s finest doctors and health professionals, I was finally able to understand the difference between addiction and being fit and healthy.

Instead of using exercise as an escape or seeing food as the enemy, I began using exercise as a way to keep my mind focused. With a new nutritious eating plan in place, I also found myself having a better understanding of what fuels my body. I’m even at the point now where I indulge in a treat or two without guilt. I also keep a regular journal to keep my emotions in check, and I have regular sessions with my therapist via Skype while I travel. I find talking to someone helps.

With an incredible amount of courage, vulnerability, resilience and time, I can honestly say I’ve been living a sustainable, healthy lifestyle. Looking back at some of my earlier interviews, I’m sickened by the rib cage I can see jutting out,\ and the gauntness of my face. It’s any wonder how not more people around me noticed or commented on it.

Rome bumps shoulders as I reach to swipe a carrot stick through some tzatziki. ‘How are you, babes?’

‘Tired, but good.’ I grab a couple of crackers and stare around at those nearest and dearest to me. ‘Nice to be back here. I feel relaxed, so much more relaxed than I have been.’

‘Cause Ireland was so stressful,’ he jokes.

I giggle, taking a sip of my sparkling water. ‘You know what I mean. I’m not jet-setting every other day, filming content, filming my segments, doing interviews, managing all my sponsorships and business stuff. I love my friends and my life back in Los Angeles, but I’m always on the go. I always have to be on. Up with the latest trends. Always on my best behaviour.’

‘Sounds so tough.’ He rolls his eyes.

‘You’ve lived my schedule for a week. You know how exhausting it can be. It’s nice to take a time-out for a while and come back here to just veg out, eating fairy floss with my best friends while watching Married at First Sight.’

‘Amen, babes,’ Lily grins and high-fives me.

‘So, tell me what I’ve missed here? Lil, your love life hasn’t been the topic of conversation for a while. Spill it.’ Every time I’ve asked her about it the last couple of months, she’s been highly evasive—just like she’s being now.

‘Nothing to share,’ she says shortly, her eyes darting around the room as if she’s looking for a buzzing fly. Lucky for her, Rome jumps in about his latest conquest. Before I know it, I’ve eaten half a pack of Doritos and an entire mango.

I move away from the table to avoid further temptation and sit down next to Dad and Uncle Jacob, who are deep in discussion over the NRL finals coming up.

Feeling someone sit down beside me and gently touch my arm, I’m greeted by a smiling Jas, who clasps my hand in hers.

‘It’s like you never left.’ I can sense she’s ecstatic that I’m here in the flesh, and it means much more to her than she’s letting on.

‘It feels like I never did. We have so many memories together. My favourite was when we gave Linc a princess makeover.’

The light in Jas’ eyes dim a little and Uncle Jacob sucks in a breath next to me. It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room at the mention of his name. I curse myself for letting my tongue slip. I can count on one hand the number of times I have mentioned him out loud over the past six years. I’m always so careful, so it doesn’t surprise me that I’m a little rattled that the fond memory and his name slipped so seamlessly from my lips.

Clearing my throat, I ignore the tension and change the subject. ‘So, anything you need help with while I’m here? Homework? Assignments? Anything?’

Jas practically jumps into my lap at my questions. ‘Actually, yes. As you know, I want to follow in your footsteps and study journalism. I have this assignment where I need to interview another journalist and sort of turn the tables back on them. Do you think you’d be up for it?’

‘Oh, wow. Um. You want to interview me? I’m the best you can come up with?’ I’m a little overwhelmed because I’m afraid I’ll spill too much of the dark past I’ve kept hidden. I made Dad vow not to tell Uncle Jacob about my previous addictions. Only a handful of people know, and he, being Linc’s father (AKA the catalyst of my demise), is not one of them. It’s a guilt I now know I never want either of them to be burdened with.

‘You’re not serious? You’re the most famous person to ever come out of the Gold Coast. I mean, apart from Margot Robbie, who you’re practically BFFs with.’ She’s right. I am. But that still doesn’t mean I am used to being in the limelight. My cheeks tinge pink at the thought of revealing my life on camera or in print. I am still an introvert at heart, despite taking my kit off for the camera and boasting a bubbly persona while interviewing. If you really delve into what is out there about my personal life, there is hardly anything. I am a notoriously private person who manages to deflect the attention away from myself and onto others.

After a lot of back and forth in my head, there is really no real reason to say no. Plus, maybe it would be therapeutic, talking about myself and what I’ve been through. If anyone is going to do the piece justice, it will be Jas, who I know has my best interest at heart.

‘Sure. Count me in,’ I nod.

‘You sure?’ She eyes me sceptically.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Great! Let me show you what I want to ask you. I know you’ll probably want to see the questions, or you can have free reign, or whatever. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you said yes!’ She grabs her phone, face activating it for it to open. I suspect she’s written a bunch of things in her notes, which means she’s been marinating on this for a while and banking on me to say yes.

‘Okay.’ She moves closer to me. ‘So, I want to emphasise and highlight your career and achievements, but I also want to take viewers behind the curtain and take a peek into who Amity really is. I mean, I know you, but not many know of your past, where you come from, life here in the Gold Coast, heartbreaks, regrets, struggles…all those things that make you more real, even though you’re sort of unreal.’

It’s a lot.

It’s opening a door to my past that I know is an opportunity to make other girls feel seen,heard and understood, but they’re also very private and delicate topics that have shaped who I am today.

I take a breath, and another one, and wait before responding. I’m sure my agent will need to be informed, so they have a PR firm on standby in case this goes sideways, but I feel ready to open up about this. What better way than giving Jas, who’s like my little sister, a scoop of a lifetime? I’m under no illusion that this will be buried as just an assignment. If she has to present this, her classmates are bound to record it and pop it all over social media. Instead, I’d rather us leak it on social media at the same time she gets graded.

‘As long as I can see the final cut, I’m more than happy to share this intimate part of my life with you.’ I squeeze her knee, watching shock splash across her features.

‘Amity,’ she breathes, giving me a watery glance. ‘This is more than I expected. I mean, I knew you’d give me an interview, but your willingness to be so open…’ She shakes her head in disbelief. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

‘It’s honestly my pleasure.’

Dad and Uncle Jacob are sitting silently, observing the two of us. They both look as if they’re going to shit their pants. Their postures are rigid, and I can sense an anvil is about to be dropped.

‘Princess?’ Dad cuts the awkwardness.

‘Hmm?’

‘Uncle Jacob was going to have a BBQ at his house tomorrow. For his birthday.’ A bead of sweat trickles down his temple. It’s not hot in here by any means, but he’s worked up.

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah.’ Uncle Jacob shrugs. ‘Everyone’s invited.’ He waves his hand around the room. ‘I’d love it if you could come. There’s going to be even more people there who you haven’t seen in a while.’ He takes a deep breath, but he doesn’t have to, because I can already see where this is headed.

‘Including Lincoln,’ I finish.

All conversations in the room cease, as if everyone is waiting on the edge of their seats to hear how this is going to pan out.

‘I’d love for you to be there, but only if you’re comfortable,’ Jas chimes in, leaning into me to give me a sort of side hug.

‘So everyone is going?’ I ask slowly. I remember Uncle Jacob’s get-togethers. They were the place to be. I remember countless occasions where the parties would extend all the way into the evening, well past my bedtime. I have fond memories of lounging on the deck and around the pool area with Lincoln before we’d sneak up to his room for a hot makeout session. I also remember the last time I stepped foot in that home and saw Lincoln finger fucking Billie in front of hundreds of people.

‘Yes. And I’ve already told Linc that I would be inviting you today.’

I nod, taking in the information while picking at a fraying stitch on the lounge. I knew it would be impossible to avoid Lincoln between hanging out with Jas, going to Dad’s work, or heck, even being at one of our houses, where he usually hung out.

Despite the decimation of my heart and what has happened between us, it s also probably the best thing for me in the end, both career and health wise. It’s also been over six years since we broke up. While I have less than zero intention of rekindling any sort of relationship with him, I can at least be cordial for everyone’s sake. Once I am back in Los Angeles, I’ll barely have to see him again.

‘Of course I’ll be there.’ I try to smile as genuinely as possible.

‘I’m glad, gorgeous.’ Uncle Jacob blows out a breath and gives me a relieved smile. ‘Plus, you can give me my signed autograph from Cillian Murphy.’ He winks, making me giggle.

I know before I walk back into the house that simultaneously holds my fondest and most fucked up memories that there is just one more thing I need to find the strength to do.