No, I bloody well will not, but I think now probably isn’t the right time to mention it. Matt nods jerkily and heads into the guys’ shared bedroom.
With him gone, it feels like all of the fight seeps out of me. I run a hand over my face. “I don’t understand why everyone’s so mad,” I mumble.
Kenta nods. “I know you don’t. It’s our fault. We assumed you’d just… let us take care of your statements. But of course, you’ll want to speak your own mind, too.” He looks exhausted.
“Well, yeah. I am a real human person. I speak sometimes.”
There’s a knock on the door. Glen grabs his pistol and checks through the judas, then opens the door a few inches to let Julie inside the room.
My shoulders slump. Great. This day is just getting better and better.
I turn and head to the fridge, yanking it open and studying the beverage selection the hotel left for us. I should probably have a vodka water, or something equally diet-friendly and depressing, but right now, I just can’t be bothered. I grab a bottle of beer.
Julie comes up behind me and slams the fridge shut. “What the Hell were you doing out there?” She hisses.
I shrug, popping the bottle cap off with my teeth and ignoring Julie’s horrified look. I’m not sure if she’s more worried about the carbs or my veneers. “He deserved it. If he wants to send me pictures of his Twinkie, he should be prepared for me to review it. Not my fault it’s a one-star.” I take a deep swig of beer and slump down onto the end of the sofa.
“You told your fans to eff off!” She screeches, practically hysterical.
I roll my eyes. So that’s what she’s annoyed about. I’ve broken the number-one rule for female celebrities: always,alwaysact grateful. It doesn’t matter if your fans are assaulting you in the street, or climbing into your property, orwanking in your bed—you’re expected to grit your teeth and tell them how much you love and appreciate them. I’m sick of it. I don’t love my fans; I don’tknowany of them. Ilikethem fine, I’m glad that they enjoy my movies, and I’m happy to sign autographs or whatever, but that doesn’t make me a piece of public property. I still get to have boundaries. I’m still a human being, who should be allowed to tell sexual harassers to piss off.
Julie huffs, coming to stand directly in front of me. She shoves her phone in my face.
“I’ve written your apology. Approve it.”
I stare at the screen. “You want me to tweet out anotes app apology?You know that everyone makes fun of these, right?”
She scowls. “I’m not screwing around, Briar. The studio isn’t happy, the dress designer isn’t happy, and neither is your security team. Just approve it, so I can post it, and we can move on with our lives.”
I feel a stab of guilt at thestudioremark. I don’t give a shit about what the guys think, but people have worked so hard on the film. I don’t want to make the opening weekend all about me. I scan through the apology.
I know many of you saw my outburst at thePlayerspress event earlier this evening. I apologise for my choice of words; I was jetlagged and overtired. I love all my supporters, and believe that everybody deserves kindness, empathy, and a second chance. I would like to politely ask that fans respect my privacy, and hope that you will all come out to seePlayerson opening weekend. Thank you for your understanding. Love you all.
“This is bullshit,” I say flatly. “Everyone who sees it will know that it’s bullshit.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She thrusts the phone in my face again. “Approve it.”
“Approve it, sweetheart,” Kenta says. “You really do need to apologise.”
I shake my head, anger rising up in me. “No! No! I meant everything that I said! If I apologise, it’ll just encourage him!”
Julie sniffs. “I understand that you’re angry, but really. You’re almost thirty. Would it kill you to act with a little class?”
I close my eyes, taking another deep drag of beer. I’mseething.
I’ve been in this industry since I was a kid. I learned that if you don’t want to be taken advantage of, you have to advocate for yourself. Your PR team won’t help. Your security won’t help. Your director, or manager, or agent won’t help. They all have their own agendas. They’re all looking at you like a product they want to sell. The only person who can ever really look after me is myself. So yes, I kick up a fuss when someone screws me over. I think every girl should.
“I’m getting really pissed off,” I warn her. “I’m not. Making. The statement. Don’t ask again.”
“Please, lass,” Glen says quietly.
I whirl on him. “Don’tlassme. You let your teammatepick me upandmanhandleme away from an interview I was giving, just because he didn’t like what I was saying. Do you have any idea how disrespectful that is? I was trying to stand up for myself, and GI Joe thought I was, what, being toohardon the guy who’s been ruining my life for the past few weeks? Who’s been terrifying me and threatening me, whobroke into my house?Everyone always wants me to shut up and smile. That’s all anyone has ever wanted from me, since I was thirteen years old. Andnoneof you have any idea how it feels to, to always—” I trail off, my throat tightening with tears. Shit. I shake my head. “Forget it,” I mutter, slumping back against the sofa cushions. “The answer’s no.”
There’s a brief silence.
Kenta steps forward and sits on the couch next to me, running a hand through his hair. He’s pulled it loose from its usual bun, and it’s falling around his face. It looks really hot. Which just makes me madder.
“I think we’re approaching this wrong,” he says gently. “Briar, why do you think Matt pulled you from that interview?”
