Cameron #2
“No, I understand you.” Edison pauses, seemingly thinking for a few moments.
“I don’t mean to be presumptuous at all.
I don’t know what happened between you and that ex-boyfriend of yours when your mother held your conservatorship, but I hope that you won’t include him in your pack.
You... deserve better than someone who has the ability to hurt you like he did. ”
My thumb brushes reassuring circles on the back of her hand when I feel her stiffen beside me at the mention of Ezra.
“Oh, he and I are done. He—he was just being helpful when I was stuck and alone. But... I agree. We’re on the same page,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek. “I guess we’re on the same page for a lot of things, then.”
“It certainly looks like it,” Edison says with a soft smile.
“I was kind of hoping your list of things you didn’t want me to do would be long enough for me to figure out what I wanted to do,” Andi says with a soft huff. “Gina’s list of things not to do was definitely long enough for that.”
“I may have a suggestion,” I murmur softly.
“Yeah?” she says, blinking up at me with a look of open relief.
I don’t know if I deserve that, but I like her looking at me like that. Like she’s looking at me for something. Like I have something to offer her.
“Remember Everett’s deal when it came to landing that first interview with Beck? The Omegas of Hollywood, Docuseries?”
“I do,” she nods.
“I think you have an incredibly powerful story, Andi,” I murmur, squeezing her hand.
“I would love to work with you on a project about your journey. Edison and I were talking... and he has a lot of footage from when you were a kid. There’s a big gap in footage from the years your mother took you away and when you started filming your own vlogs, but I think with your creativity, we could tell your story in a really unique way.
A mosaic of your life, captured on film, you know? ”
I’ve pitched my ideas to plenty of people over the years. People with far more money and influence than Andi, but I find myself caring significantly more about her answer than any green light from some higher-up at the news outlets I’ve worked for in the past.
“You’re—you’re wrong,” she says, blinking at me.
I wince at her words. Shit, what part did I get wrong? Maybe I should’ve taken this more seriously and come up with a more coherent pitch to her.
“Sorry, wrong about what?” I ask.
“There’s not a big gap in footage. The Real Omegas of Beverly Hills has footage of me growing up in those years between everything,” she says, tapping her finger against her lips. “This is—this is a really cool idea, though! Are you sure you want me working with you?”
“Of course,” I say, my shoulders slumping forward with relief. “You could’ve led with that, though.”
“What, and miss the opportunity to watch you sweat a little?” she giggles.
The sound is light and airy in a way that lights me up far more than the iced americano I’m drinking right now.
“No wonder Everett calls you a brat.”
“Dude!” she hisses, smacking me on the arm. “My dad is sitting right here!”
“Whoops, sorry about that, Edison,” I say, reaching up and rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says with a chuckle and an off-handed wave. “I was young once, too.”
“Dad! Too soon! Actually, not too soon! I don’t know if I ever want to hear about that kinda stuff from you,” Andi laughs.
“Fine, fine,” Edison grins. It’s obvious from the spark in his eyes that he’s soaking in every bit of this banter with his daughter. I imagine that no amount of time will ever make up for the time they’ve lost, but at least now, they’re able to try.
“Could you show me the footage you have from when I was a kid?” Andi asks.
“Of course! Here, follow me.”
“Should I help clean up the dishes or something?”
“Nah,” I say. “We’ll get one of the others to do it. Probably the one that’s up latest.”
“You snooze, you lose, literally I guess,” Andi giggles as the two of us follow Edison into his office.
He gestures to two office chairs that we drag beside his seat, in front of his large monitors. The main monitor is so large, it’s practically the size of a TV. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what it was. Makes sense that he’d have a screen like that to edit with.
“The password to the servers I have in the garage is 1111,” he explains as he navigates his digital file system.
Andi blinks at him with wide eyes.
“Does that number have some sort of significance, Sweet Tea?” I ask, gently nudging her shoulder.
“That’s—that’s my birthday. November 11th,” she breathes out.
“It is,” Edison says, offering her a warm smile. “I know cybersecurity experts would probably throw a fit, but I couldn’t ever bring myself to change it.”
I have the pleasure of watching him show her how to navigate the system, but the tutorial session is cut short by his phone ringing.
“Who’s that?” Andi asks, going still at the sound.
“Ah, sorry, Andi. It’s a business associate.
I’m working as a consultant on his film and I think he’s calling me to go in to check some of the things on set,” he flashes her an apologetic smile, obviously torn between wanting to spend more time with his daughter and the work that he so clearly values.
“Have fun,” Andi says after a pause. “I wouldn’t want my being here to stop you from your work.”
“You’ll be okay without me?” he says, relief crossing his expression.
“Yeah,” she nods before jerking her thumb over her shoulder at me. “I’ll just annoy Cameron instead.”
“You’re never annoying,” I say with a soft chuckle.
“That sounds like a challenge,” she says, flashing me a cheeky smile.
“Have fun, kiddos,” Edison says, standing and answering the call. “Yes? Ah, I’ll be there soon.”
As Edison leaves the two of us alone in his office, Andi takes a second to just stare at his massive monitor. The hundreds, maybe thousands, of videos from her childhood are labeled neatly and organized in a way that’s wholly unsurprising.
“You want to watch something?” I murmur, when she just stares blankly at the screen.