Chapter 31 Lex
Lex
After the Julian West fiasco at Rudy’s party, a twinge of guilt started creeping in, knowing I’d compromised Stevie’s one big connection—a step forward to her ultimate dream.
Granted, I have no guilt about the why or the who , but since I did drag her out to the playground, it would only be fair to let her play.
I know a large part of why she agreed to shack up with me was to get her feet wet, meet people in the industry, and hopefully scratch the acting itch.
I made a few calls and pulled some strings, landing her a coveted audition for Maverick Ramirez. He’s one of the good guys. He was a coproducer for Come What May , and he’s had a hand in directing some of my favorite indie projects. I trust him with her.
Giving the back of her neck a squeeze, I lead Stevie inside the studio where she’ll be auditioning.
The space is just a wide-open room with polished hardwood floors and floor-to-ceiling windows letting in slats of afternoon sunlight.
A few folding chairs line the walls, empty except for one casting assistant behind a long table.
A camera sits in the corner, the red light turned off.
Stevie glances at the script in her hand—a supporting role in an indie drama that would normally be reserved for seasoned actors.
The kind who’ve been grinding in this town for years, honing their craft in offbeat theater productions or low-budget commercials.
But Maverick’s open-minded, and he loves finding raw talent.
He also loves me.
“Hey, Mav.” We come together in the center of the room, hands linking as he pulls me in for a bro hug. “Thanks for doing this.”
“For you? Anything.” He smiles, a cream-colored beanie covering only half of his long black hair. His eyes shift to Stevie on my left. “Lex tells me you’re quite the talent. Can’t wait to see what you bring to the table today.”
She chews her lip, fiddling with a button on her blouse. “I really appreciate the opportunity. I realize how fortunate I am just to be standing in front of you. Kind of feels like I cheated.”
He chuckles. “In this business, bending the rules is half the fun.”
Stevie’s new to this, sure, but she’s got something no amount of experience can fake.
A natural presence, a way of drawing people in.
The character she’s trying out for is gritty and damaged—a young woman caught in a web of family secrets and betrayal.
Exactly the kind of role that could show off her depth.
I feel her nerves humming beneath my fingers as I give her neck another reassuring squeeze. “Ready, babe?” My palm slides down the back of her blush blouse, hooking around her hip. I bend to kiss the top of her head, lingering a tad longer than I probably should.
She leans into me, her eyes raising and clashing with mine. A shudder rolls through her when I slowly pull my hand away, fingers skimming the curve of her ass before my arm drops.
With every day that passes, I bend the rules too.
Lingering touches, longer looks. The boundaries we established are starting to blur.
Stevie steps forward, script clutched in one hand, the other brushing nervously against her side. The audition space feels intimate—no grand stage, just a plain room with minimal lighting and a single camera in the corner.
Maverick watches, leaning back against a wall, the air thick with anticipation. He has a copy of the script in his hand, acting as her scene partner.
He leads into her monologue with a few casually delivered lines. “You always did love to run, Debra. It’s what you’re best at. I just never thought you’d run from me.”
Stevie clears her throat and takes a breath as her character enters the scene mid-confrontation.
Her voice cracks, coarse emotion dripping from each word as she stumbles through the apology “Debra” has been avoiding.
“I didn’t want to run. I didn’t want to leave you.
You don’t know how hard it was—” Pausing, her eyes glisten, catching Maverick’s gaze for a beat before she continues.
“I thought…I thought it would hurt less if I just…disappeared.”
I fold my arms, grazing my thumb along my bottom lip as I watch.
Maverick glances at the page, then looks back up. “You were a coward.”
Her voice is quiet but full of meaning, barely more than a whisper.
“I know I was. And I wanted to stay— God , you have no idea how much.” Her hand instinctively moves to her chest, as though the pain is physically tangible and her heart is eager to spill right through.
“But every day…it felt like I was drowning. Sinking to the bottom of the ocean with no oxygen tank, no lifeline. The walls were closing in, and I couldn’t breathe. Not around you.”
Maverick takes in every detail—her movements, her micro expressions, the way she holds her hands like she’s holding the remnants of a shattered life. “Sounds like a cop-out to me.”
She paces slightly, her eyes darting to the floor, then back up as she channels the character’s desperation. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in a room full of people and still feel…completely invisible.”
My lungs lose a bit of air.
Parallels sink into me, my posture stiffening.
“I had to get out, had to escape, even if it meant leaving everything behind. You…us.” Her voice cracks, the vulnerability hitting a peak, but she holds it there, not letting the emotions completely unravel her performance.
She’s good—better than good. And the lines she’s delivering hit too close to home. Every word she says drags me back to that night. The night I made the choice to leave.
I thought it was for her. I told myself I was protecting her from the messes I’d made, from the train wreck that had become my life.
There’s a pause as she turns away, biting her lip, as if holding back a torrent of feelings. Then she spins back around and faces me, the weight of regret heavy in her eyes.
My heart fumbles when our eyes lock.
“I thought disappearing would be easier—for both of us. But it wasn’t.
It was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
And it absolutely destroys me, every day.
It hurts…right here.” Her voice drops, softening to a raw, near-broken melody as she stabs a finger between her ribs.
“Now I don’t know if I can come back. I don’t know if you’d even want me to. ”
Her voice cracks, and I feel it. A hammer to my chest.
I left her. I left her, thinking it was the right thing to do. And now she’s here, standing right in front of me, saying all the things I never had the balls to say.
She closes her eyes, holding her breath, letting the silence settle like an exhale after the storm. The room feels impossibly still, even the barren walls awaiting her next move.
I flinch when Maverick appears on my right and hands me the script.
Frowning, I take it, sparing him a quick glance as he nods at me.
“Finish it,” he says.
When Stevie opens her eyes again, they’re filled with resigned sadness. She stares at me like I’m her counterpart, her costar.
I clear the hitch from my throat, skimming over the next line, the papers crumpled in my hand. “I could have saved you. If you’d just stayed, if you tried, I could have—”
“I didn’t want to be saved!” she shouts back, tone pitching louder, arms extending at her sides. “Don’t you get it? I didn’t think I deserved to be saved. Not by anyone…but especially not by you.”
The air changes, swells, her words pulling me under.
“I thought if I stayed, if I let you help me…” She trails off, biting her lip, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You’d see what I saw in myself. Someone unworthy. Someone rotten. And I couldn’t bear it.”
Her voice falters, and I feel the thorns stabbing me on all sides.
The script in my hand feels insignificant.
I don’t need it. I never did. “You were never unworthy, Debra. I did see you, and I loved you with everything I had, everything I am, and that was enough.” Genuine emotion snags in my throat.
An elastic band of grief. “It was always enough.”
“That’s because you never looked deeper,” she counters, shaking her head, her pain quieting to soft melancholy.
“If you had, you would have seen the broken, scattered parts of me. Everything I tried so hard to hide. And you’d leave anyway.
” Her jaw hardens, eyes shimmering against the muted light as she stares at me, echoing my internal struggle.
“So I did it for you—to save you from the inevitable disappointment that was me . It was easier that way. It was safer.”
My breath falls out, slow and stuttered. She’s incredible. She’s everything I thought I was saving her from—strong, vulnerable, real. And here I am, standing on the sidelines, watching her speak the truth I’ve been too much of a coward to face.
I disappeared like a lonely, misguided ghost, believing I wasn’t meant for the place I’d been wandering in.
“But I’m here now,” she croaks, chewing on her lip. “For what it’s worth…I’m here. That counts, right?” A tear slips loose. “It counts for something. It counts because…it has to.”
Her voice barely makes it through the last line. I hear the tremble in it, the weight of the confession.
Maverick shifts beside me, a spark of recognition in his eyes. I know he feels it—the electricity, the authenticity radiating from her.
“Cut,” he finally calls out, breaking the spell. “That was fantastic, Stevie.”
She blinks away the daze, her eyes never leaving my face. “Really?”
“Fuck, yes. Really.”
A small smile blooms as she searches for my reaction. I watch as she wipes the stray tear from her cheek, looking fidgety, unsure, the character draining from her eyes.
Swallowing, I slide a hand into my pocket and give her a terse nod. “Nice job.”
She blinks at me. The smile fades a fraction. “Thanks.”
I zone out as Maverick and Stevie shake hands, he gives her his card, and he tells her he’ll be in touch. He will be. She’s got the part.