Chapter 20
Harlow
“Once more!” Stevens yells out and I look back at him, my eyes stinging from a night of letting it all out. Today’s the last day of shooting and thank God I only need to walk and look into a window while another actor, a side character, counts the cash.
It’s a simple task, but Stevens keeps recording. Repeatedly. Unceasingly. He’s been a pain in my ass this last week. Maybe that’s one more thing that’s been picking at me. It’s like he can see it too. Maybe it’s written on my face. Maybe they can all hear what I’m screaming inside my head.
I knew I had to end it before we even got back to his dressing room. Article after article couldn’t have convinced me. It hurt to read them, each one chipping away at my armor little by little. But that’s not what did me in.
He could never say it back to me. I love you.
Not then, and not now.
It’s because he doesn’t really love me. I’m foolish to think he does. You don’t throw someone away if you truly care about them. Not when they’re hurting and so thoroughly destroyed.
I didn’t know what a fucking mess I was until I saw that look in my eyes in that picture. It’s brutal to have the truth plastered in front of your face. The fear and stupidity, really.
He makes me weak.
And I’m done with being anything less than the strong woman I’ve set out to be.
I wait for my cue, rocking on my heels as the click of the safe closing is followed by, “Action!”
Three, two, and one. I start walking. Three steps past the darkened window and I take a glance inside, just a small one, as if I was only a passing bystander. My heels click with my easy strides and the red scarf over my head tickles at my ears as I move, but I don’t touch it. I refuse to let my face move either. Even as I leave the window and wait quietly on the edge of the set, watching as the cameras continue to roll.
Stevens has four of them going now. How many angles does he need?
I grit my teeth, hating how irritable I am. I’d rather be angry. Anger is so much easier to hide.
“You alright?” a small voice from my right asks and I snap out of it, looking at an extra I recognize.
“Yeah,” I reply and shake my head and give her a smile. Her name’s Rachel, or her character’s name is. Shit, I forget.
“It’s a wrap!” she says with a smile and humor although her face is still scrunched, and the humor doesn’t reach her eyes. She keeps walking ahead of me and that’s when I notice the set is clearing out.
An uneasy breath leaves me as I reach down and take off the heels one at a time. My bare feet hit the cement floor as the backdrop is lowered by the stage crew.
I force a smile on my face and keep in mind that today is over. This entire ordeal is over.
We have a one-week break before we hear back about any alterations or retakes. A full week of being away from Nathan. And if I want, Nancy’s assured me that I never have to see him again.
I try to ignore the pain from that thought as I walk through an empty hall back to my room. It’s what I wanted, what I demanded, but that only makes my heart clench harder.
The second I close the door; I hear my phone vibrating on the desk. I sag against the door, leaning my head back and staring at it.
Let it ring.
I imagine it’s my mom again. Telling me to come home. Telling me she’s worried for me.
I’m worried too. But I don’t want to run and hide away. I don’t want to go back to what I was before this, but I don’t know where I can go from here.
I slowly lower myself to the floor and as my ass hits it, my phone vibrates again.
I just want to be left alone.
But what if it’s Nathan? My heart slams and I quickly scramble to get up. I won’t answer, I just want to know if it’s him. He messaged last night, and I was able to control myself. But now I’m like a junkie, eager to see if he still wants me.
Thoughts and accusations ricochet in my head, whispering that I’m weak, but I ignore them. Only to swallow my own pathetic wishes when I see it is just my mother. I can’t talk to her right now. Not when I don’t have a plan. She wants to protect me and take care of everything for me and I know she loves me, but I don’t want to live in a bubble all my life. I love her, and she knows that, but I need to live my own life.
I toss my phone onto the desk and it hits the edge of the stack of papers Nancy gave me. I glance at the top one.
Is it over before it even started?
That’s what fans of the now-lovebirds Nathan Hart and Harlow May are wondering.
According to those close to the pair, Harlow’s just a sweet girl caught up in the bright lights of the set and swept away by her former high school sweetheart.
But the feelings aren’t mutual, sources say. He hasn’t done a single thing to show his commitment and close friends know that the "dating” label is only to save face. She’s naïve to think he still wants her. It’s a relationship of convenience for him. The moment production wraps up, he’ll be on to the next pretty little thing. There’s nothing that indicates otherwise.
Seems like Mr. Hart isn’t quite the sweetheart she remembered and he’s only passing the time with Miss May.
It’s the same one that was on the table when I walked into the conference room.
Humiliated. That’s how I feel. Easily summed up into one word.
Even the rest of the world knows that I’m stupid. It’s written in black and white. Of course it’s convenient for him to put up with me rather than deal with the mess.
Isn’t that what he’s always done? Stupid. I’ve always been stupid and it seems like it will never change.
“I’m only stupid when it comes to him,” I say under my breath.
I clear my throat and turn off vibrate on my phone. My head’s killing me from lack of sleep. My body, in general, is exhausted. I’m emotionally a wreck.
Emotional is not a substantial enough word. What’s wrong with me?
My throat gets tight as I set the phone down and I see a message from Nathan pop up. Are you done?
A warmth flows through me, almost relaxing. As if knowing he’s thinking of me eases some of the pain etched deeply into my soul.
He texts me again before I can justify texting him back. I want to see you before you leave.
It’s easier to just cut things off and run.
It’s what he did to me and I understand why.
If I see him, I’ll cave.
So instead, I run.