“You’re special,” he told me once. “Not like the others.”
I blushed because I didn’t know what to do with words like that. Taking compliments never was my strong suit.
Later, I realized that even though he presented the words as a compliment, he was staking his claim as if I were some treasured item he wanted to possess.
The first time he took me to dinner, it was at an exclusive restaurant. One I’d only heard rumors about because I could never afford it and didn’t have a last name to get me through the door. I wore a gorgeous sequin dress that hugged my curves as if it were made for me. It was waiting for me at the reception desk when I arrived home from work. When I glanced at the price tag, I nearly threw up. I could never imagine spending that kind of money on clothes.
But the way Elias’s eyes lit up when he saw me, he made me feel wanted in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. His attention triggered something inside of me, almost as if it was permission tomove on. As we sat through dinner, sharing expensive wine, I couldn't help but feel like everyone around us knew I didn’t belong there. But Elias’s gaze never strayed from me. I felt on top of the world. My skin buzzed with excitement and desire from his attention.
And foolishly, I mistook his actions for love.
Later that night, we ended up at a movie premiere, one I didn’t know we were attending. Anxiety crept over my skin like a bad dream, but Elias’s strong hand held firm on my lower back. As the cameras flashed, his soft words whispered in my ear reassured me. I felt safe in the moment. As my smile widened, my eyes struggled to leave his sharp-angled face. I found myself falling deeper for this man, my boss’s son, and I couldn't find it in me to care about how wrong we were.
Not when he leaned closer, placing a chaste kiss beneath the shell of my ear, whispering, “See, I knew you belonged in this world. The camera loves you, Wren.”
And for a moment, I believed him.
When he kissed me, it felt like life was giving me a chance to feel love again. Jett broke me in ways I never thought I’d heal from, but Elias gave me hope I could let someone else into my world and heal my broken heart. I was desperate to find love again. To find the type of happily ever after I had always dreamed about.
“That’s how it started,” I whisper. “The dream.”
I take a shaky breath, blinking rapidly as the room comes into focus around me.
The words emerge slowly, having been locked behind a hidden vault in my mind for years. The truths I’ve never risked spilling, out of fear they’d end up in the wrong hands. That’s the problem in LA; everyone is out to expose each other for a quick buck, and I didn’t know who to trust.
“It wasn’t the move that broke me,” I tell the group. “It was everything that came after.”
The linoleum beneath my sandals blurs. The smell of bitter coffee fades, replaced by the warm fragrance of the office, bright lights, and someone yelling “rolling” in the distance.
And boom, I'm back in the spotlight.
The cameras follow me into a showing as my pulse thrums in my ears. Terry, the producer, winks at me before saying, “You’re a natural, sweetie. Keep that innocent look about you.”
I beam at his praise.
Everything in California feels amplified—smiles brighter, lies sweeter, lifestyle more glamorous. The ocean glints outside. The heels of my green western booties click against the tile as I move deeper into the ten-million-dollar mansion I’m showing. Pushing open the frameless panel doors, my reflection catches in the crystal-clear glass.
My hair is a brighter blonde, curled in soft waves across my shoulders. The dress I’m wearing is soft and modest, giving the allure of my Midwest charm as the cream linen fabric flows effortlessly over my curves, which are getting slimmer by the day. I allow myself a moment to smile at my appearance. I look happier than I have in years.
I think I’ve finally found myself again.
“I didn’t realize it back then,” I begin, voice hoarse. “While I thought I had found myself, it was the start of me becoming someone else.”
Terry tells me I’m perfect for television because I look real. Whatever that means.
“Don’t lose that,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I fight the urge to cringe beneath his touch because how dare he touch me? “Viewers love an underdog, sweetie. Midwest naivety meets the California spotlight…it’s money.”
Naivety? I’m not naive; this is a new world to me.
I force my smile bigger as I laugh louder, and I pretend I don’t notice when they cut my dialogue to make me seem less cultured.
When I glance behind the camera a few hours later, I notice him, and my smile is no longer forced.
Elias appears on set, sunglasses hooked on the collar of hisbutton-down. The golden boy with the perfectly coiffed hair, golden skin, and tailored pants that hug his legs as if they were made for him—which I guess, they were.
“Now that’s a smile,” Terry beams from where he’s standing off set, and I feel my cheeks heat.
Elias ignores the producer as he closes the gap between us. He cradles my cheek in his palm as he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to my opposite cheek.
