17. Kinsley
17
KINSLEY
I f there is one thing I know about my parents is that they’re pushy as hell, especially my mom. To the point where I don’t feel as though I’m in control of my life because they do everything in their power to make sure I succumb to their wishes.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and exhale sharply through my nostrils. “Mom, I don’t have time to audition for another movie. Last time I checked, the one I’m currently filming still has a couple more weeks left.”
Pacing the floor of my dressing room, I hold the phone to my ear and wait for her response. When the annoyed breath follows, it takes every fiber of my being to not slam my fist through the drywall beside me.
“Kinsley, please. When one door closes on a movie, it’s best to make sure you have another one waiting for you. Would you like to be jobless after this movie wraps up?”
Yes , I want to say, but not because I hate my job. Sometimes I wish I could take a break. I have been traveling full steam ahead in my career since I was eight with no sight of slowing down. But lately, I haven’t felt like I can breathe properly because I’m so exhausted from constantly being on set, booking modeling shoots for campaigns and advertisements, and fake dating a goddamn rockstar.
I just wish my life would slow the down, but I can’t tell my mother that. She would laugh in my face and tell me I am weak for even considering taking a break. In her eyes, you live to work, not work to live. But there is only so much more I can endure before I snap like a fucking yo-yo string.
Auditioning for another movie right now is not on my radar.
“Mom, I don’t have time to argue with you about this.” I plop onto the couch and cradle my head in my hands. Using my free hand, I massage my temple to ease the migraine forming behind my eyes. “Can we discuss this another time? I have to get back to work.”
Mom huffs and I just know her face has scrunched up in that sour look I despise. She would use it on me as a kid to let me know she was disappointed in my actions, and she still does it to this day. Unfortunately for her, it no longer works on me. “Fine, but don’t think I will forget about this, Kinsley. Your father and I will discuss this with you later. This is a big opportunity you can’t pass up.”
That’s what she says about every other movie or television show I have auditioned for in the past. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize she is only saying it to make me do what she wants.
She doesn’t say goodbye before the phone goes dead, casting me in silence. With a frustrated huff, I throw the phone on the couch beside me and drop my head in my hands. The temptation to scream until my lungs go raw is on the tip of my tongue, but I bite back the urge when a knock sounds at the door to my dressing room.
Lifting my head, I spot Wesley standing in the doorway, his eyes focused on me. An unreadable emotion swirls behind the depths of his eyes, but I don’t have the energy to try and decipher it right now.
“What’s up, Wes?” I ask softly.
He must sense my frustration because he gingerly walks into the room, his hands shoved into the pockets of the blue jeans hanging off his hips. “I just wanted to see if you were okay. You left the set in a rush just before.”
I stand from the couch and walk over to the make-up station. Wesley’s gaze pierces the back of my head as I pick up a brush to apply more blush to my cheeks. Whenever I talk with my mom, my skin turns a shade paler and I can’t have that on set. I don’t want to look washed out in front of the camera.
“I had to take a call from my mother. But I’m all good, so don’t worry about me.”
Through the mirror, I see Wesley take a step forward in my direction. “So, how are things going with… that guy?”
I turn around in the chair with my brow raised. “That guy ? You can say his name, Wesley. He’s not going to hurt you.”
He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks now pinker than mine. “I mean… he could hurt me, Kin. Nash Beck doesn’t seem like a great guy, especially with that temper of his. I’m just worried about you.”
The sting of my nails embedded into my palms forces the response I want to make back down my throat.
I don’t understand Wesley. He comes across as a nice guy when you first meet him and he gives off that cute boy-next-door vibe, but once you get to know him and see past the facade he puts on, all you see is a man who likes to complain and talk down on people he doesn’t know. It’s annoying, to say the least.
Nash is by no means a saint, but in the four weeks I have known him, the thought of him hurting me has never once crossed my mind. It could be because I know there is a deeper and more vulnerable side to him that he hides from the world, and he chooses to act out by getting into fights and drinking himself stupid because it’s easier to fight the demons that way.
If his panic attack last night in the car is anything to go by, I would say Nash is struggling with more than just being bullied in school and his mother passing away.
“You don’t need to be worried about me, Wesley,” I say through my teeth. “I’m fine. I know how to take care of myself. Besides, Nash would never hurt me.”
He raises a brown eyebrow. “Are you sure? How well do you actually know this guy?”
“I know him well enough.”
Wesley sighs and takes a couple of steps toward me. His shoulders are tense and his forehead is crinkled in concern.
God, I wish he would leave me alone. After the phone call with my mother, I’m not in the mood to deal with this.
“If you ever find yourself in a situation where you need help, just know you can come to me for anything, okay? I will help you in any way that I can.”
Okay, now I want to scream at him.
I’m fighting the urge to march over to him and slap him across the face for jumping to such conclusions. Nash would never hurt me. I know that much. But it’s bold of Wesley to assume if Nash were to hurt me, I would turn to him for help.
Wesley is more delusional than I thought.
I stand from the chair and force a smile onto my lips. With a few weeks left of filming, the last thing I want to do is cause tension between Wesley and me, especially because it could potentially show up on camera. Despite him overstepping the line right now, and me wanting to slap him across the face, I need to remain professional because I know after this movie is wrapped up, I likely won’t have to see him again unless it’s at an award show or event.
Until then, I need to suck it up.
“I appreciate the offer, Wesley, but I’ll be okay.”
His features drop a little at my words, and his mouth opens to say something else, but the words die on his tongue when my phone begins to ring from where I left it on the couch. Praying it’s not my mother calling back to argue with me further about auditioning for the rom-com she suggested, I hold a finger up to Wesley and stalk toward the couch to retrieve the obnoxiously loud device.
Bringing it to my ear, I say, “Hello?”
A deep voice booms through the receiver, forcing me to drag the phone away from my ear. “Is this Kinsley May?”
I swallow hard and stare at the ground, unable to meet Wesley’s watchful eyes. “Yes, this is she. Who is this?”
“I’m Officer Walker from the Los Angeles Police Department. I have Nash Beck in custody. He requested you as his one phone call.”
My eyes just about bulge out of my head and my heart rate spikes through the roof. What the fuck has Nash gotten himself into? “Officer, is he okay?”
“He’s fine, ma’am, just a few cuts and bruises from a fight he was in last night. We picked him up around three in the morning and he’s been silent ever since. Until now. He requested us to call you, so if you are free to come down to the station, that would be great.”
I’m barely listening to what the police officer is saying as I rush around the room, collecting my handbag from beside the couch and switching my shoes from the uncomfortable heels Cindy dressed me in when I arrived on set to my black flats. All the while I feel Wesley’s intense gaze on me, itching to ask what’s wrong.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Officer,” I say breathlessly as I slip my right foot into the worn flat.
“I’ll see you soon, Miss May,” Officer Walker replies in that deep, scary voice of his before the line goes dead.
I waste no time throwing my phone into my handbag, my eyes drifting to meet Wesley’s. My heart is thumping so hard against my rib cage I’m afraid it’ll crack a few bones. His eyes are filled with concern as they bore into mine, and I hate that he witnessed that interaction. If I tell him Nash is in jail for fighting again, it’ll only prove his point. I can’t have him think that he knows Nash better than I do.
“Is everything okay?” Wesley asks, his brows furrowed slightly.
I force a smile. “Yep, everything is fine. Can you just let Jason know I have to step out for a couple of hours for a family emergency? Tell him I promise to make it up to him tomorrow by coming in early.”
Wesley hesitantly nods, although I can tell he wants to question me further. “Y-yeah, I can do that for you. I hope everything is okay.”
I rush past him, my shoulder brushing his slightly. “Everything is fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks!”
As my legs carry me as fast as they can out to my car, blood rushing in my ears, all I can think about is Nash sitting in jail covered in cuts and bruises. Why did he get himself into more trouble after our dinner last night? And why the hell did he call me and not one of his bandmates?