I don’t know why, but thinking about Juliette somehow always prompts me into motion. This time, I roll my shoulders and stretch a little from side to side. “I thought about it,” I say. “But what’s the point? I doubt it would mean anything to her, anyways.”
“I hardly think that’s true, especially since the contest last year was kind of the tipping point for you guys. Your winning it this year could be a symbol of rebirth.”
“Rebirth or not, it’s clear she doesn’t care either way. It’s not like she’s reached out to me since London. My number hasn’t changed.”
“But she did follow you on Instagram, and you followed her back,” Roshni challenges. “Being Insta-official is a huge step.”
“Be that as it may, we still haven’t spoken.”
“She’s probably just scared to reach out to you directly. I told you, after you left, she was totally thrown. And she never even came back to New York. For all we know, she could be lying on the studio floor at this very moment, sobbing her eyes out and screaming your name.”
“She’s not,” I assure her. “She just posted a video two days ago of her and Ollie at Abbey Road.”
Roshniaww’s, and I don’t blame her in the least. Ollie crossing that street was stinking adorable.
“And what about Liam?” she then asks. “Did you tell him about the play?”
At last, my nerves take a back seat as another sensation overrides my system. Strong fondness, lingering longing, and veiled but poignant disappointment.
“He knows I won. He was excited when I told him, but he hasn’t asked me about it much of late. I think things between us have officially started to taper off since he extended his time in Paris.”
“Well, that’s a shame. I miss drooling over that redheaded Chris Evans as I lurk in the background of your FaceTime dates.”
“Not everything is meant to last,” I tell her. “I just have to remember the good times and accept the fact that I’m now in an established blood feud with that entire family.”
“Are we maybe just being defensive because we secretly miss them very much?”
“What’s with all the questions?” I whine. “I’m not in my right mind, and you’re emotionally waterboarding me in a moment of weakness.”
Roshni looks at me with an unaffected stare. “I’m literally asking you very basic, normal human questions.”
“While staring directly at me with those beguiling brown eyes and bewitching me into revealing all my secrets.”
One-minute warning.
I suck in a breath at the announcement and instantly start shaking. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this.”
Roshni grabs my hands. “Yes, you can. This is what you were born to do, and no matter what happens or what people think, you deserve to be here. Your art needs to be shared. You’ve got this. Do you understand me?”
I nod, but it feels like my throat is closing.
“I’m going back to my seat now. I love you, and this is going to be amazing.”
“I love you, too. And if at any point you hear the sound of intense dry heaving coming from backstage during the performance, I need you to immediately hunch over and pass it off as your own to the people in the audience to cover my tracks.”
“I can do that. Let’s not forget, I am an international actress.”
“That you are,” I agree. “Thank you for coming back here.”
“Anytime. Break a leg.”
We hug then, tight and quick, before she walks off, and I stay hidden in the wings. I take another breath to center myself, assuring myself that I can do this. I worked so hard, and now it’s time to see it through. I close my eyes and remind myself just how far I’ve come.
This entire year and a half passed in a fast-moving haze, sprinkled with occasional patches of slow-moving sad spells. It was an adjustment. I was so used to being Juliette’s assistant—and I don’t just mean that as my job, I mean as my actual identity. I wasn’t Winnie. I was Juliette’s right hand. Her faithful sidekick. A forever aspiring playwright. And I was happy to be those things, but I wasn’t challenged. I wasn’t pushed. At least, not in the right ways.
Now everything’s changed. I’m challenged daily, I’m pushed relentlessly, and I have never been happier. I’ve learned and developed and grown so much as an artist, and I know that I can handle this.
I open my eyes as the house lights dim, then turn off completely. The stage lights slowly start to rise in intensity, stopping once they’re set for the opening scene.
