Stay in the past and watch my dreams fade away.
Or fake it until I make it.
Before I could answer, the phone on Lou’s desk rang, shaking it and disturbing the moment.
“One sec.” She mouthed before picking it up. “Hello? Yes, speaking? Oh, hey, hi!” Her smile beamed as she spun in her chair. “How can I help?”
I let my attention sink to my thumbs, having a one-woman thumb war.
“I have her with me now, actually.” My eyes flew to Louellen. “I’ll certainly ask her, give me a moment,” she held the phone to her chest as she looked at me, giddiness gleaming in her eyes. “It’s Amalfi Pictures. They’ve had some dropouts for tonight's premiere of the Michelangelo movie, they wanted to know if you’d like to attend.”
My brows pulled together. “Why me?”
She held up her finger and placed the phone back against her ear. “Just quickly, why is it you want Miss Holland?” Her eyes drifted as whoever was on the other end talked, nodding occasionally. “Ooh! One moment.” She placed the phone back against her chest. “They know you’re an art student, and they would love this kind of audience.”
I pulled my head back, my thoughts crowding as my palms went a little clammy. “Can we call them back?”
Louellen nodded. “Well, thank you. I’ll give you a call back soon with an answer. Have a nice day!” She put the phone down. “What is it?”
I shook my head, edging back. “I don’t know, it’s just… What do you think I should do?”
Louellen sighed, folded arms landing on her desk. “Sweetie, I can’t tell you what to do; I can only advise.”
I sat up, stretching out my palm. “Fine. Advise me on what you think I should do.”
Her navy eyes softened as she blew out a heavy breath, her shoulders slumping. “Talking as your friend, I’d want you to be safe. Away from the crowds and any threats that could put you in danger.”
My chin lowered. “Talk to me as my manager.”
The truth was laced in her sigh.
She leaned forward, her chin cupped in her palm. “As your manager, I’d say you need this. Every aspect. Financially. Selfishly. To stop you from becoming a forgotten face. And to make sure you don’t lose sight of your dreams.” Her eyes widened. “The real ones. And if you’re letting one ignorantprick and his actions make you forget just how important those dreams are, then maybe this relationship isn’t going to work out.”
I know it seemed harsh, but that was what I needed. There was only so much love and support I could take before it made me incapable of moving forward with the dreams that, a few months ago, I’d have done anything to achieve.
To be honest, every time I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror or a passing car window, I wasn’t sure who was staring back at me. I didn’t recognise the girl who had puffy eyes from crying, who looked paler than she already did, who’d rather shove her demons into an already overfilled sock drawer than really face them.
And maybe that was fine. Or maybe it was the thing that was going to make me spiral. I wasn’t sure. My mind was still a haze of everything that had happened in the past year of my life. And if this was a mistake, then I’d learn from it.
And weren't mistakes exactly what your twenties were for?
All I knew was that I was losing the strength of the girl I was, and if I carried on, the only way I was going to survive was by depending on everyone else.
I quickly wiped at the bulge of tears threatening to fall over my lash line and stared back at Louellen before standing. “Call them back.” I nodded, more to myself. “Tell them I’ll come.”
I stole a breath and lifted my closed fist to Marcus’s door.
It had been a few hours since he walked me back from Louellen’s office. The entire car ride had passed in silence. Mine, mostly. I’d spent it staring out the window, terrified that if I opened my mouth, I’d accidentally spill everything. What was happening tonight. Why I was going.
And why I didn’t want him following me.
Asking him to let me handle this solo was a long shot. Especially after that talk we had at Flo’s last week. But I was convinced that, once he heard my reasons, he’d understand. He’d let me go. He’d trust me because I had trusted him.
Louellen’s tough love earlier had landed with brutal precision. There was no unhearing her words. No unseeing the version of myself she’d made me confront. If I had any hope of getting back on track, I had to stop being so scared. Maybe that was why I hadn’t painted in so long—because fear had its claws in me. And if I could survive tonight on my own, maybe painting would find me again.
I kept repeating that in my head like a mantra. But the more I did, the more I imagined Marcus laughing, shaking his head, maybe even cuffing himself to me and insisting he wasn’t leaving my side for a single second of this premiere.
Still, I had to try.
