Chapter 2 #3
“Here’s my room,” he pointed out as they passed his door, continuing to hers. “If you change your mind about tonight, just let me know,” he told her.
“I wish I could.” And she meant it. Hanging out with these men seemed much more appealing than staying in her room, hiding from the public…and her family.
“If I don’t see you before you compete…good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Trigger nodded at her respectfully before heading back to his own room. Ember closed her door behind her and leaned against the heavy wood as she shut her eyes, exhausted.
She should have been bouncing off the walls.
Excited to compete and hopefully win a medal.
Everyone was waiting to see if she could pull it off.
Could be an Olympic medalist. And she did want to do well, because she was a naturally competitive person.
And she had fans who genuinely wanted the best for her.
She also had those who wanted to see her fail.
Her parents had hired people to manage her social media, so she didn’t often see the comments people left on the staged pictures posted to her accounts…but she couldn’t always quell her curiosity and sometimes had to log in to see for herself what people were saying.
She almost always regretted it. People could be incredibly cruel.
They disparaged her because she was pretty.
Or because of the connections she had with other very well-known celebrities and athletes.
Or because she was wealthy. She understood that many of the mean comments were a result of jealousy over what they perceived she had and they wanted.
But the comments that hurt most were the ones about the color of her skin.
Some said she did the Black community a disservice by acting too white and not acknowledging her heritage.
Others flat-out threatened her life, saying all Black people should die.
Many thought she shouldn’t be at the Olympics in the first place, that there was no way a Black person could’ve made the modern pentathlon team without having bribed someone.
They spouted shit about how Blacks couldn’t swim, though they weren’t surprised she could shoot so well.
As if the color of her skin had anything to do with either of those things.
There were also supportive fans, of course.
Those who seemed to really want her to succeed.
Who always posted positive messages. Ember’s mom had given her a few letters when they’d landed from fans who wished her well.
Beth had told her she was the prettiest woman in the Olympics.
Thomas had written that he was praying for her to do well.
Christine had written her a very sweet poem about being confident in her abilities.
Alex had sent a two-page handwritten letter, detailing why he admired her and had faith that she’d be a gold medalist.
The last one had been the cutest. A little girl had drawn a picture of Ember on top of the medal podium, smiling huge.
She wandered over to her bed and sat, staring at her bags on the floor. She needed to finish unpacking, but her mind was whirling.
Ember was at a crossroads. Her choice to stay in the athlete village had pissed off her parents, but she’d needed the break.
They loved her, but they were smothering her.
They ran every aspect of her life. Both had quit their jobs to manage her.
Training, public appearances, photo shoots, marketing…
you name it, they’d taken over. She hadn’t wanted to do that stupid reality TV show a few years ago, but they’d somehow talked her into it, against her better judgement.
She’d been miserable, hated having cameras in her face all the time, but the show had skyrocketed her popularity and upped her overall wealth by eight figures.
And it was all bullshit. Deep down inside, Ember wanted more. Or rather…different. But she had no idea what.
Meanwhile, her mom and dad were already talking about the next Olympics in four years.
Ember didn’t want to spend four more years training all day, every day. She wanted to live. To travel. To fall in love. To have a family.
And she didn’t want to be in the spotlight. If she could delete her Instagram account today, along with all twenty-five million followers, she would. Her parents would have a heart attack; it was her biggest social media platform. But she was quickly getting to the point where she didn’t care.
She was twenty-five and still lived at home. She didn’t grocery shop for herself, she didn’t cook, she didn’t have to lift a finger to clean. Her room back home was as big as some people’s entire houses. She knew that wasn’t normal—and Ember desperately wanted normal.
As long as she lived under her parents’ roof and allowed them to run her life, she’d never get that.
She’d never lived anywhere but California. She’d traveled for competitions, but rarely went much beyond the hotels and the venues. She yearned for adventure. To get it, she’d have to disappoint her parents—and endure the mother of all guilt trips.
And not just disappoint her parents, but her coaches. Sergei, Helen, and Lonnie were amazing. Hard when they needed to be but also encouraging. And then there were the athletes she trained with. And her fans and followers.
Suddenly, it felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Everyone wanted her to win more than Ember did, herself. That was crazy. Insane.
What was she doing? And how could she break free?
No answers came to mind as she sat in the middle of the sparse room in the athlete dorm.
She heard several people talking out in the hall and figured it was members of the water polo team returning from practice.
They sounded happy and keyed up. And why wouldn’t they be? They were at the freaking Olympics.
Ember sighed and stood to continue putting her things away.
There was a state-of-the-art workout facility in the basement of the building.
She’d head down there in a while and jog on the treadmill.
That would help clear her head and get herself back in the right frame of mind to compete.
She loved to run. She would put her headphones on and lose herself in her music.