Chapter 15 #2
Relief washes through me. I know this is the truth and he’s still the Brody I remember.
“How many years do you think you had an issue with alcohol for?”
He shakes his head, his mouth twisting. “Four years, maybe, if I’m honest?”
“Well, in terms of your adult life, that’s less than a third.”
“I …” Brody gives me a soft smile. “I never thought about it like that before, but you’re right.”
I smile back. “You’re still you.”
“That’s why I did that interview about healthy eating and fitness,” he says, and the happiness drains from his face.
“But the guy twisted my words, made me out to be an out-of-touch Hollywood prick. I only mentioned the sea moss smoothie and the other stuff because I was giving a shout out to a friend’s new start-up. ”
My gut twists with empathy. I knew Brody was speaking from the heart about wanting to take care of his body, but the journalist turned him into a laughing-stock.
“He was an asshole for what he did to you. I knew what you were trying to say, but it was like he was out to get you.”
“Yeah, I think he thought it would get him a date with my ex.” He sighs. “I’m sorry you’ve read about every mistake I’ve made since leaving Hideaway.”
“Hey! Hudson or Ethan would have punched that producer too. You didn’t cheat on your girlfriend, and it’s not your fault that douche of an interviewer twisted what you said.
You’ve done incredible things as well. You’ve worked without a break since you left Hideaway, and you’re so talented.
You need to take credit for everything you’ve achieved. ”
“You’re the talented one. Always have been. I’m just a pretty face who can memorize lines. I mean, look at these. They’re incredible.”
He swipes to the next image on the tablet, then jerks like he’s been hit.
“No way.”
“What is it?”
He shakes his head. “You’ve drawn me as the Emberking of Draventhorne! From The Chronicles of the Sword and the Flame!”
“So?”
His eyes are alight as he looks at me. “That’s the series I auditioned for! I’m up for the role of the warlock of Zhash-Dhrog!”
“You’d be perfect for it!” I say excitedly, then swipe through to the next drawing. “I’ve drawn you as him too!”
“Wow,” he says. “Warlock me looks badass.”
I laugh. “I’m a huge fan of the books, and I read on the forums that they’re planning a series next year.”
“Yeah, the warlock’s not one of the main roles, but it’s still pretty cool, and he’s in every episode of the first season.”
My brain jolts as a memory awakens, one I know is bad.
Then it hits me.
“When do they start filming?”
Brody’s gaze is still on my drawings as he flicks back and forth through them, like he can’t decide which one to focus on. “January fifth.”
“How long will they be shooting the first season for?”
“Nine to eleven months, depending on reshoots,” he replies, his attention still on the tablet.
“And where are they filming?” My voice is barely audible.
“New Zealand,” he replies, still staring at my art.
Time stops, and for a nanosecond the full force of my foolishness hits me.
Brody has spent the last twelve years building a career as a model and actor. His life is so far removed from mine, the only point of intersection is right here, right now. And I’m just another fan with a crush who let her imagination get the better of her.
That kiss earlier? It was part of the act, just a performance to help him land a job. He might have enjoyed it, but that doesn’t mean anything between us has changed. He’s still destined to continue a life that’s light-years apart from mine, most likely on the other side of the world.
“That’s fantastic!” I say, with cheerleader-level enthusiasm.
His eyes snap to mine and he blinks.
Once again, I can’t read his expression, so I clap my hands and bounce on the bed like a tween at a sleepover. “I’m so excited for you!”
He clears his throat. “I haven’t gotten it yet. I might still be in New York next year.”
I shrug, trying to play it cool even as my heart cracks. “You’re really talented. You’ll get the job.”
I take the tablet. “You wanted me to send you the pictures? No problem.” I tap quickly on the screen. “Yep, there’s your email address … sharing a Google Drive link now … And … done. You’ve got them.”
Bouncing off the bed, I grab my pajamas and fake a yawn. “I’m going to take a quick shower and get ready for bed. It’s been a long day.”
I put the tablet to sleep, toss it into my open suitcase, then dash out of the room and down the corridor into the bathroom.
Inside, I sit on the seat of the toilet and hold my head in my hands.
It was a fake kiss for a fake relationship. To get him a real job.
Things couldn’t be more different from when we were teenagers. Our shared history feels like a lifetime ago, and now we’ve got nothing in common.
Back then, I still had my whole life ahead of me. Now? I’m pushing thirty, and none of the dreams I had for adulthood have materialized, while Brody’s achieved more than any of us ever imagined possible.
I didn’t realize until the last few minutes how lonely I’ve been in Brooklyn. I’ve just been pushing the feelings down and getting on with life. But now, back in Hideaway with the people who mean the most to me, it only magnifies how alone I feel.
And the last straw? The kiss that sparked a bubbling, ridiculous hope that Brody and I could actually be a thing. All those future possibilities fizzing up inside me like Mentos in a bottle of soda, only for reality to come along and toss the whole thing straight in the trash.
Brody’s a famous actor who dates other famous actors and works all over the globe.
Meanwhile, I’m scraping by in a Brooklyn one-bed and just got dumped by a future coworker for the receptionist.
I take a steadying breath, strip off my clothes, and step into the shower.
Everything’s going to be okay.
I just need to manage my expectations.
Brody’s helping me with Mom, and I’m helping him land an incredible job. I should be happy for him.
And make sure we never kiss again.
Brody springs up from where he’s been sitting on the edge of the bed as I enter the bedroom.
He runs a hand through his hair. “Er … Are you …?”
I force a sunny smile. “Yep! I’m done. Bathroom’s all yours!”
I give him a wide berth as I make my way to the other side of the bed, grabbing earplugs and an eye mask on the way.
“Night-night, Brody,” I say as I get into bed. “Sweet dreams!”
Then I jam in the earplugs, shove on the eye mask, and turn onto my side, facing away from him.
Even though my hearing is muffled, I still make out his heavy sigh, then the click of the door as he leaves the room.
I press my lips together to hold the fake smile in place and force myself to breathe evenly.
Exhaustion drapes over every part of me, and I silently pray I’ll be asleep before he comes back.