Chapter 29 Justin #2
After I tell Zane I need to get back to the workout, I hang up and finish my run. I need to figure something out and fast. The bodyguard business is a foreign world to me, but with Doc’s skills someone’s going to snap her up in a second and then the chance of getting her back is gone.
After a full day of studio meetings and a pre-promo photoshoot with a few of my upcoming co-stars, I barricade myself in my room.
Maybe it’s a jerk move, but I have less than zero interest in engaging the temp bodyguard.
I clasp my fingers behind my head and pace.
Should I … How many texts am I allowed to send before Doc’s agency considers me a stalker? My thumbs hover over the screen.
Justin: Hey. Will you consider coming back? I really appreciated our working relationship and am way more comfortable with you than any of these other guys.
There. Good message. Kind, not over the top. And definitely hiding this gut-wrenching need for her to return. But sending a message saying I can’t stop thinking about her is not going to fly. Three bubbles pop up and I stop breathing.
Doc: I appreciate you reaching out, but my decision is final. Hope all is well with you.
Christ. She’s so damn impersonal. These texts don’t even sound like her. Sure, she’s been a little stiff in the past, but over these past few months she’s opened up. I’ve seen who she is as a person, and this isn’t it. I go to toss my phone when three more bubbles appear.
Doc: I watched Sixteen Candles last night. Good stuff.
My heart flickers in my chest. Is this the Doc that I know and like so much? Is she back? Yes, it’s only been forty-eight hours since I last saw her, no more than her typical two days off, but it feels like a month. She just threw me a lifeline, and I’m grabbing on for dear life.
Justin: Sixteen Candles vs Pretty in Pink. Go.
Doc: You’re not trying to make me pick between two Molly Ringwald movies. That’s like me asking you to choose between your two favorite quarterbacks. Not gonna happen.
Justin: Pretty in Pink had the best cast ever.
Doc: Loved the whole scrappy, independent girl thing catching the eye of the popular kid.
Justin: Poor Duckie, though. He loved her so much. Jon Cryer was awesome in that role.
She sends a GIF of a twerking duck smoking a cigar, and I chuckle.
Justin: You have the most on-point gif game of anyone I know.
Doc: Just wait until I start throwing in some Schitt’s Creek. Give me an opportunity to weave ‘fold in the cheese’ into a text, and I can go for hours.
I grin at the message. I want to keep going, but these messages are simultaneously hurting while making me feel good, and I’m not sure how much more I can take.
Justin: night Doc
Doc: night Justin
The next day, as the SUV rolls through traffic toward the studio, I pull out my phone and reread the text exchange between me and Doc.
The dopamine hits are almost gone since I’ve reread these twenty times, but I’m able to squeeze out a final drop.
When I toss the phone in the console, I look up to Zane’s overly prying eyes peeking up from their screen.
‘You seem more chipper today,’ Zane says.
Maintain a poker face. ‘I chatted with Doc last night.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Zane raises an eyebrow. ‘How is she?’
‘I don’t know. Fine, I guess? It’s not like we got personal. I just asked her …’ I glance at the new bodyguard in the front seat and lower my voice. ‘I asked her to come back.’
‘Ooh. Really? Baller move.’ Zane shoves their phone in their bag. ‘What’d she say?’
‘She said her decision was final.’ I flick my fingers against the armrest. I really thought Doc was just blowing off steam, and if I asked nicely, she’d come back.
My notifications blink with a new message from my mom, and I glare at the screen. I drag my hand down my face.
Zane knows this look. They pull in their bottom lip. ‘Your mom still hittin’ you up?’
‘Always.’ I rest my head against the seat and watch the LA traffic crawl outside my window. ‘I should probably call her back, huh? It’s been like three months.’
Zane teeters their head. ‘Do you want to talk to her?’
‘Nope,’ I say. ‘Tell me honestly. Am I horrible? Good people don’t do this to their parents, right? It’s not like they ever hit us or anything.’
‘That’s what you’re using as your baseline?’
I loop my thumb under the seatbelt. ‘So many people had it way worse growing up. I never had to worry about money or food or buying basketball shoes. I had everything kids dream of … Xbox in my room, theater in the basement, pool, everything.’
Zane rests their hand on my arm. ‘Someone will always have it worse. That doesn’t take away your reality.
’ They lean back into the seat. ‘From everything you’ve told me, your fundamental needs were never met.
Sure, you had a ton of stuff. That’s stuff, Justin.
Not your basic needs. Your parents did a lot of messed-up shit.
I think the only person you felt love from, at least unconditional love, was Mia. ’
The air sucks from my lungs. Zane nailed it. Did my parents love me? Maybe. But it was always conditional – pose for pictures, play a role for my dad’s clients, win games. When I refused, they either gave me the silent treatment or took it out on Mia until I relented.
And now, money. Always the money.
I yank out my phone and read the message.
Mom: Honey I am so proud of you! I just read that you’re going to star in a movie with one of the Hemsworth brothers. Sounds like a huge payday for you!
Mom: I need you to call me. I am at a loss with what to do with some of your father’s things.
Mom: If you are not going to respond to me even after everything I have done for you, then maybe your sister will help.
My stomach pinches. Mia may have cut off our mother years ago, but I put nothing past our mom. Mia’s finally in a good place mentally and physically, and the very last thing she needs is our mom triggering a relapse.
I pound my thumbs against the screen.
Justin: I’ll call soon.
There, I responded.
Now that I took care of that, time to take care of things with Doc. I have an idea, but it’s a gamble.
But I’m not going out without a fight.