Kaye couldn’t stop the tears from streaking down her face as the car made its long journey back to the airport. Over the radio, she heard Merle shrieking about wasted time and money, but she couldn’t care less in that moment. All she wanted to do was head home—back to L.A.

The familiar open fields passed by on either side, time standing still in the little corner of the world that never seemed to change. Kaye had looked at those same fields for most of her life, only stopping to go to school and try to make a new life for herself. If her parents couldn’t understand that, it was their problem.

Amir’s voice echoed across her mind, questioning whether it would have been better to give them some kind of a head’s up before bombarding them with a filming crew. Upon hindsight, Kaye had to admit to herself that her decision not to reach out to them first could have been a little shortsighted.

She sighed, pressing her forehead against the window.

“How are we going to play this?”

One of the crew was whispering to Jesse, who had quietly sat in the back as they drove on.

“Let’s find out,” he said, leaning forward and peeking at Kaye through the back seat.

She cracked open an eye and looked at him, waiting for the question.

“What do you want to do here, Kaye?”

She released a laugh, and it was a terribly sad sound for such a joyful gesture.

“You mean I have some kind of choice in the matter?”

“Of course you do. We’re not slave drivers here. You’ve been easy to work with from day one. So, your parents weren’t on board. We managed to get some shots of the confrontation, but your folks are right—without their permission, they would be well within their right to sue. Do you think we can do a little bit of filming to work around it?”

Kaye closed her eyes again, taking a bracing breath. She was still at work, after all. It would be important to remain professional. Jesse had worked on many projects with Merle, or so it seemed, and he could have connections that could make or break her in Hollywood. That was the thing about acting—or any career, really. It was all about who you knew and who knew you were hard or easy to work with. Difficult actresses found themselves ousted after so many years, while nice ones could have lifelong careers.

“What would you like me to say?” she asked.

Jesse nodded to the cameraman next to him, and the man whipped out his camera, preparing to film.

“Just talk about what happened. We can let the audience know that we tried, and your raw emotion right now will really come through. You have a chance to make this terrible situation come to life, and I think this is something a lot of people can relate to. Whenever you’re ready.”

Kaye nodded, wiping the tear streaks from beneath her eyes before she turned to face the camera, which had already turned on.

“Can you tell us a little about what just happened?” Jesse prompted.

Kaye nodded, allowing her tears to flow again for effect.

“Amir and I just tried to break the news of our engagement to my parents,” she said between sniffles. “It didn’t exactly go well.”

Jesse’s gaze was encouraging as she worked up her emotions to get a better shot.

“I just wish that they could understand me a little better, you know?” she asked the camera lens, as though she was talking directly to the millions of people who would be watching. “I grew up in such a small town; their worldview is so closed-off. I wish they could just be happy for me.”

She wept a little, then, reaching into her purse for a tissue and delicately dabbing at her eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jesse asked.

She shook her head, allowing herself a good, solid cry. Not all of that was an act. The cameraman filmed her breakdown, and she had to wonder if her parents weren’t a little bit right. She was selling her real emotions for a paycheck.

It was a huge paycheck; that was true. But it was still just money, in the end. Was that the kind of actress she wanted to be?

“That’s great, Chuck. Can you load that film onto the shared drive and we’ll do some editing on the plane?”

“Sure, boss,” Chuck said, shutting down the camera and working to load it onto a laptop.

“That’s fast,” Kaye observed, sniffling back her last tears as she watched the high-tech gadgets Chuck used to get the film ready to edit on the fly.

“The speed of business is unreal these days. We have to do what we can to keep up. Usually, that means working as we move. A lot of travel time means we get a lot done. The entire segment for your trip to Al Rayyan is already prepped and ready for finishing when we get back. We’re in good shape.”

“That’s very impressive.”

Jesse shrugged.

“You have to be fast to keep up with Merle’s demands. It’s the only way to really get to that success part that lies underneath all the crap.”

Kaye smiled.

“There certainly is a lot of that when it comes to Merle.”

Jesse chuckled.

“You said it, not me.”

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence as Chuck worked his magic with headphones in, editing video as they pulled into the car rental area of the airport.

There was a somber mood in the group as they made their way back through the terminal they had been in only hours before, everyone looking travel-weary. Kaye realized that they had flown from Al Rayyan to Indiana, driven two hours only to be instantly turned away, and were now getting back on a plane to L.A.

She felt a strong pang of guilt at making everyone’s job that much harder. As Merle grumbled and grouched while he secured another flight for the crew, they spent another few hours waiting in the airport terminal until it was time to board the plane—which was just another cramped, smelly space for them to enjoy for another half a day. Kay found herself dreaming of her bed as she stared forlornly out the window, the plane leveling off at 35,000 feet.

“Hey.”

Kaye turned to see Amir staring down at her, the two seats next to her blissfully empty on their last-minute flight back home. She nodded to him.

“Hey. Sorry about that, back there,” she said.

Amir sat down next to her, tilting his head to look into her eyes, which at that point had to be unforgivably puffy and red from all the crying she’d done.

“I got a glimpse of the footage from your car ride back. Really powerful stuff,” he offered.

Kaye frowned.

“I’m glad you approve.”

Amir put up his hands in a gentle gesture of defense.

“Hey, I’m trying to give you a compliment here. I know that was really tough back there, and I just wanted to commend you for trying, even though you knew that would likely be the response we’d get.”

Kaye sat in silence, without an answer to that. She was filled with regret for so many things, and his comfort in a great job done wasn’t exactly helping.

He placed a gentle hand over hers, and she tensed. Seeing her reaction, he pulled it back.

“I know that family stuff can be difficult. I know it seems all roses and daisies now, but things back in Al Rayyan weren’t always so great. It took a lot of work to get the family to the place it is now. The truth is, my parents made a lot of mistakes along the way. They demanded so much from us, wanted us to behave a certain way, to be people we weren’t. We tell people that we just like to travel, but that was the real reason they drove us away. We were never allowed to be ourselves. We always had to be far more than we wanted.”

Kaye listened to his story intently, trying to place his description with the blissful family life she had seen in Al Rayyan. It didn’t quite compute.

“Could they really have changed so much?” she asked in a whisper.

He nodded.

“After my brother—the third eldest—ran off and never came back, they realized they would have to make some changes if they ever wanted their kids to be in their lives. Unfortunately, it only hit home when he died in an avalanche, while skiing. My parents were the last to find out.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kaye said, wanting to reach back out to him.

It was too late for that. He had already distanced himself from her, even as he brought her into his own story a little more.

“It’s nothing for you to be sorry about. We all learned our lessons. My point is, I know that life, work, and things that matter take sacrifice, and today you made one in an attempt to make this project all it could be. I appreciate what you did there, and everything you’ve done until now. I just want you to know that.”

“Thank you,” she replied softly.

They sat in silence for a moment before Amir excused himself, and Kaye watched him go with mixed feelings. While there was a part of her that wanted him to be in her life in a very romantic capacity, another part wondered at his motives. Could she trust Amir, when his lust for self-promotion was the reason she had gotten into that mess in the first place?

Yes, sacrifice was necessary for any job, but he had seen how uncomfortable she was about bringing her parents into the picture, and he had ignored it in favor of good television. The image of him talking to her parents after she walked away flashed in her mind, and she wondered once again what he had said to them on her childhood steps.

Would could he have possibly said to make it any better?

The plane began its descent into LAX, and Kaye’s ears popped as she stared out at the ocean on the horizon. She inhaled, the cabin air stale and faintly scented of burned coffee. She couldn’t wait to get outside and get back to her life.

The feeling seemed to be mutual, because everyone vacated the plane as soon as possible, making short work of finding rental cars to get home. Amir approached Kaye as she pulled her suitcase to the curb.

“You can come with me, if you’d like.”

“Where are we going?” Kaye asked.

He looked confused.

“Home,” he said simply.

She remembered then that her own bed would continue to remain vacant. She would be headed back to Amir’s guest house, on duty, even in the off hours.

“Right,” she said.

“Unless you don’t want to?” he asked gently.

She thought about telling him to stuff it. To take the reality show and all the money in her contract and put it where the sun don’t shine, as they said back home. Then, she remembered stale crackers and canned soup, and she swallowed her pride.

“Of course. Let’s go home.”

He nodded, and as he did, a sleek black car pulled up. It was certainly a step up from the cars they’d had in Indiana, though as Kaye slid in with Amir behind her, she was anything but comfortable.

She had no idea how to feel, so she simply went numb.