Chapter 38 #3
“I love being your freak, Baby. The gags and group sex are shocking to the vanilla crowd, yeah, but I think this will blow over.”
“Oh, like Kim K’s sex tape? People still talk about that! And ours is twice as scandalous.” Here comes the water works again. “Maybe thrice. I’m never going to live this down, my life is ruined, Jett.”
He kisses my tears and smooths my hair. “Shhhh, Baby, this may be a new chapter, but it’s far from over.”
“One long, never-ending chapter where I’m blacklisted as a total freak.”
“You have bewitched me, Matilda, and it is time for you to bewitch them as the new you. The dark, romantic horror actor and director. The raven-haired beauty that embraces her darkness. Seeing you on stage tonight will confirm that you’re not afraid of what people think.”
I want to scream at the voices that keep me beyond terrified of what people think, want to scream at Jett for expecting me to still go on stage tonight after my life has fucking imploded.
But he scoops me up and carries me to my parents’ room, where they are sitting on their enormous white bed doing damage control on their laptops.
This is where I’m supposed to fucking rest?
They stop what they’re doing and hop up, opening the covers for me so Jett can lay me down. My dad hands me a cold Irn-Bru, and my mum brings me scones and cut fruit. They smooth my hair and congratulate me on my first big Morningstar scandal.
“You don’t hate me?”
“Matilda, stop being so dramatic. You act like you’re the first woman on the face of the earth who likes to be choked.”
“Mum!”
Even Jett’s cheeks turn pink with that. He praises me for how well I’m handling everything.
I’m sorry, has he seen me? I’m a wreck. My parents assure him that they’ve got me handled, urging him to go help Kennedy prepare to take over for that cunt, in Dad’s own words.
He doesn’t want to, so Dad pushes him out into the hall for a private pep talk and comes back without him.
Mum and Dad flank me on both sides and promise they will handle this, as if they can erase the memories of everyone with a phone. “We always wondered when that other shoe was going to drop,” Mum says.
I stare at her with my wild, bewildered eyes. How far inside my brain is she? “What?”
Dad spreads butter on my scone. “She means, we spent so long waiting for your scandal, Baby, and wow, did you finally deliver! A lot of people are blaming Jett for corrupting you, but you’re a Morningstar, and it was only a matter of time.”
“No drug dependency, no teenage pregnancy, not even once kicked off a flight for being drunk and disorderly! We were beginning to think there was a mix-up at the hospital twenty-six years ago.” Mum laughs as if this isn’t the worst day of my life.
“And then you met Jett, who is one thousand percent Morningstar in his dirty little soul.”
“He set you right, Matilda. Ever since you felt that terrible guilt over raging on that poor grade nine girl, you’ve tried to become someone you’re not.
That boring wannabe prince and his uptight parents, you tried to marry into that, you were so confused!
And thank God you didn’t!” Dad pats my head.
“I know the public is trying to shame you today, Baby, but they’re going to be eating their shit words.
Just go flush your phone down the loo and forget about them. ”
“My career is ruined, Dad. No one is ever going to hire me again. I won’t be able to look anyone in the eye knowing they’ve seen that.” My bite of scone gets stuck like plaster in my throat, just thinking about looking anyone in the eye, period.
“Oh, you’re right, Baby, Kim K’s career was simply ruined by her sex tape.
No one ever wanted to look at her again!
” Mum cackles like this was some incredibly smart career move instead of a death sentence.
No one knew who she was before that got out; everyone knows it.
“That was the best thing that ever happened to her career, Baby. Why not you?”
I just shake my head, and Dad hands me a pill. “Take this. It will only make you sleep for an hour, I checked. You’ll feel better when you wake up, and then go downstairs and be there for your best friend. She shouldn’t have to deal with this all by herself.”
Another tear. “She doesn’t want to see me. I don’t blame her; this is all my fault, mine and Jett’s. There’s no way I can make this up to her.”
“I should see if her mum is flying in or Mick’s flying out.
I’ll call while you’re napping.” My mum insisted on having Mickie’s mum’s number in her phone since the day we became best friends.
Maybe in case we ever got in a huge fight, they needed to smooth things over as if we’re nine years old and not full-grown adults.
I guess that tracks with my disgustingly immature behavior on this entire, god damn, no longer my favorite day of the fucking year day.
This feels worse than having a friendship-ending fight as a nine-year-old; it feels like the end of everything.
I take the pill and cry myself to sleep.