“You okay, love?” she said, smoothing the shoulder of my navy suit that I kept in my gym bag for emergencies. “Don’t let those misogynist bastards get to you.”
Did she mean Tim? How would she even know? Then I realized she’d said bastards, plural.
“What misogynist bastards?” I asked. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
She took a good look at me. “Oh God, Tabs. You don’t know, do you? Of course.” Swinging back on her seat, she slapped her hands over her eyes. “You don’t do social media or go down internet rabbit holes like the rest of us. Oh shit.”
“What is it? What’s happened? Please tell me.”
“Don’t read them. Donotread the comments.”
I still felt blank.
“Tabitha, the production company has been posting shorts of the day’s filming, and underneath, there’ve been hundreds, now thousands, of comments. Donotlook at them. And I’m so sorry. I leaped in and left comments fighting back. I was just so angry, and I jumped in to defend you. Declan said later that you might not have appreciated that, that maybe you wanted to stand up for yourself. I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing, but I couldn’t stand them writing about you like that.”
Nausea creeping through my body, I grabbed my phone, brought up the website she was talking about, and watched the last video. I was coming off as the serious, boring one—a drag.
Or was I being paranoid?
But no, Tim was being depicted as a great guy, a fun all-rounder. I scrolled down to the comments. Sweat broke out over every inch of my skin. They were criticizing my body. How was the production company allowing this?
Then I scrolled up to yesterday and did the same. The ear-blasting panic turned into a searing anger and embarrassment that buzzed throughout me. Why had no one told me? How many of the crew had seen this? Had Tim seen it? I skim-read through the comments again. The ones where Isla had defended me were obviously her writing, but there was someone else defending me who…knew too much. Tim? He knew what had happened…before the crew had arrived.Don’t you know she was helping her parents and the animals?That bit wasn’t on film. Yes, I was certain it was him. Heat burned my face with embarrassment. How cringing that he’d seen these comments about me.
Isla hovered, silent, her breathing heavy.
“Why didn’t any of the crew tell me?” I asked, tears pushing at the backs of my eyes.
Her face crumpled, and she clutched at my arm. “Why didn’t Tim tell you? That’s disappointing. I mean, I know you guys fight a bit, but I feel like he’s a stand-up guy.”
I blinked hard. I did not want to talk about Tim right now. And I didn’t want Isla to feel responsible for telling me.
Shaking my shoulders, I gathered myself.I can’t undo this.I can’t change this in any way, especially because these comments had been circulating for weeks. I thought maybe Poppy might have told me, but she hadn’t.
Right. Carry on.“It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. I’m fine. There’s actually nothing I can do about it now, and I should have known this sort of thing would happen. There’s a price to pay for being on these shows, and I have to toughen up.” EverythingI felt inside clashed with what I was saying. I felt crushed and depressed and angry all at once.
“Tabitha?” She smoothed her hand down my arm. “This is totally shite, and it sucks.”
I swallowed hard so I wouldn’t absorb her sympathy and release that sob bound in my chest.
How could this day get any worse?
I abruptly turned back to my work, messaging my boss about a time to talk.
Felicity wanted to talk again about my needing next week off, after I’d promised her filming wouldn’t interfere with my newspaper job. Maybe my daywasabout to get even worse.
I arrived at the rugby pitch, still in my navy work suit. Felicity had made it very clear she wasn’t happy about me taking the week off. And I hadn’t heard from Tim. Nerves jittered through me about seeing him again. I still wanted to assume he had a good reason for leaving, but I was also hurt he hadn’t mentioned the comments. I was pretty sure he was that person defending me, so that meant he’d seen them. I breathed deeply, trying to find some peace in the beautiful pink-and-orange sunset.
Even though it was still summer, preseason for the team, from discussions about the filming schedule, I knew this was a big game for the county. The bleachers were full, which meant about one thousand people had turned up. That was a big crowd. Were they here to be part of the filming? Had the production company advertised for people to come out, or had they filled the seats with extras? I hadn’t a clue, as was shown by the fact that I had to hear about comments from Isla, another humiliation.
Bracing myself to at least fake that I had it together while every inch of me churned, I took my place in front of the camerasand film team, who were lined up along the players’ tunnel, waiting for the two teams to run out. Tim must already have been in there, which meant I’d see him for the first time in front of the cameras.
My day was getting worse and worse.
Greeting me quickly with a smile, Poppy patted at my face with foundation and blush, her face betraying a slight wince, and gently smoothed back a few strands of hair that had escaped my ponytail. I knew what she was wincing at. I’d slathered on the makeup during the train journey, but that hadn’t hidden my puffy eyes, tiredness, or rising dread.
I checked the cameras at the front—both showed red lights. They were already filming. Hell. I was excited to see him but worried because of how he’d left. But I knew, with the cameras on me, I could only show excitement.
I glanced up to see Amy had joined me at the fence line. I was so preoccupied with keeping my head down, I hadn’t noticed her approaching with a woman with dark, curly hair and faded jeans.
