Chapter 12 #2
The truth was, I was a self-absorbed mess and always had been.
My ruthless self-belief was necessary to make it in my field and was why people wanted to follow me.
I simply didn’t have time to sit on a friend’s couch and listen while she told me every annoying thing her boyfriend had done this month—but if she wanted to share it while I filmed a “Come with Me and My Friend to Get Brunch and Have Our Nails Done” video, then, sure, see you at eleven.
I was always thinking about content first: friends were featured extras.
As a result, I’d burned most of my friendships by always being the main character.
Then, when I needed a friend to talk me out of doing something awful on a livestream and ruining my life, no one was there.
Not even Caroline, whom I loved like a sister.
And actually, if I were honest with myself about that too, sometimes I loved Caroline like a parent.
She was only three years older than me, but when we lived together, I’d leaned into my most dysfunctional personality traits because it forced her to care for me. To stay with me.
Caroline had mothered me, and I’d relished the maternal affection.
I’d been pushing the limits of our friendship for years, sure that eventually she would get sick of being the live-in friend of an influencer.
But she hadn’t. Unlike my mom, Caroline’s loyalty wasn’t something I had to perform to keep.
When she did eventually leave, it wasn’t because of anything I’d done. It was because she fell in love.
And it was awful that I resented her for it.
Even though she and Chase made me welcome at their place, I didn’t really know how to have a friendship that wasn’t 100 percent on my terms, at my convenience, whenever I needed.
Caroline had stopped answering midnight texts; she stopped watching every video.
I knew she was trying to establish healthy boundaries, but it hurt.
I wasn’t the kind of person who could successfully exist unsupervised. Some people could—not me. I was a bowling ball thrown down the lane by someone covering their eyes. I needed guardrails. Preferably live-in guardrails. Not live-in-Chelsea guardrails.
But! The guardrail thing didn’t have to be one way. I could be a good friend too. I just had to try harder and not be quite so self-absorbed. I knew I could—I loved Caroline.
This conversation now might have been too late to stop me losing my shit on that livestream, but at least it was proof that Caroline wasn’t gone for good. I took a deep breath and tried to find the right words.
I’m trying to learn from this and be better—a better friend, a better person. You really matter to me, Caroline. Sorry that I never asked you how you were, and always made the conversation about me. I had tunnel vision. I’m working on it, I swear.
You matter to me too, Lyssa. I’m sorry I didn’t watch the livestream earlier. I should have paid more attention.
The only way not to make her feel bad was to lie and say it didn’t matter. But it was deeper than that. I steeled myself before pouring my heart into my reply.
It hurt my feelings that you didn’t. But I shouldn’t have expected you to watch every video to know what was happening in my life, like you were a fan, or an employee.
I should have sent you the video, or just called and told you what was happening.
Not to mention, I should have told you about Paul ages ago.
I really am sorry. I don’t want it to be hard to be my friend.
Tears were running down my face now. But I gritted my teeth and refused to sink into pity’s warm, waiting embrace. It might be too late for my career, but there was no way in hell I was going to lose my best friend.
It’s not hard to be your friend.
I gave a half sob, then quickly tried to muffle it, ducking my head when Dean looked in the mirror.
It’s hard sometimes to keep up with everything, especially when you don’t signpost what’s important, but it’s never hard to be your friend. That’s an honor, sunshine sugar pants.
I was openly weeping in the back of the car now. Dean’s wide eyes were darting around the car, he didn’t know what to do. Kev’s hand extended back, offering me a square blue handkerchief. I took it, mumbling that I was fine. Just jet-lagged.
Where is Paul now? What happened to him after your livestream?
I started laughing then. Big, barking hysterical laughs that punctured my sobs.
Dean flicked on his indicator, making like he was going to pull over, but Kev shook his head and motioned for us to keep going.
He got promoted.
Caroline’s typing dots appeared and disappeared several times. Finally she sent:
That’s so messed up.
Yeah. But there’s nothing I can do about it. Although it makes me feel better that you’re mad too.
I might go punch the man myself.
She was a Holliday after all.
He doesn’t deserve the effort. Now, my darling dangermouse, I have to go, your dad and Dean—Dean’s here!—are dropping me back at Mike’s and we’re on his street.
The typing dots reappeared. I anticipated her question.
Mike wasn’t feeling well. He went home early.
The dots bounced on my screen still.
Luckily, Dean and Kev seemed happy to linger in the car in the driveway, talking about window trim.
Eventually, Caroline finished her message.
If there are things in your life I should know about, Lyssa, tell me. Don’t make me look through a million videos for clues.
That was valid.
I wanted to tell her about getting eaten out on the side of the road and it being the best sexual experience of my life and very nearly a complete moment , but… it was her brother. So I shut the fuck up.
I’d tell her about other important stuff. Not that.
I you.
Make time for a Main Character Bath soon. You need it.
There were a lot of things I needed at the moment. Top of the list was off limits, and a blood relation of my best friend. But in lieu of that, a bath would be great.