I’m a child star. Birthdays have always meant something different to me. For normal people, getting older is a good thing. Sixteen means caring about surviving high school and learning to drive. Eighteen means becoming an adult. Twenty-one is legally getting drunk. They were all milestones for normal people. But I wasn’t normal. The first time I went to high school, I was nine and acting on the TV series Kid Genius. I learned to drive on the set of Street Kings when I was fourteen. And the first time I got drunk was in Mexico, when I was fifteen, but that was due to an accident on set. I wasn’t legal, but no one batted an eye.
I’ve spent my life moving from movie set to movie set as the cute, adorable¸ America’s sweetheart—Amelia London. But today marks my twenty-fifth birthday, halfway to thirty. I am now officially too old to be called “cutie,” and on top of that, my career is about to come to a flaming end if I don’t do something drastic. At least that’s what my agent keeps telling me.
“Amelia. Amelia?” My agent of twenty years, Oliver Cole, who I would swear to my last breath looks exactly like Hugh Jackman with his thin-framed glasses and left ear piercing, snaps his pale white fingers in front of my face.
“Sorry, I was thinking,” I sighed, leaning back into his office chair and gripping the script in my hands.
“I know.” He walked around his desk to stand in front of me. “This is a huge leap. If you do this movie, no one will ever see you as sweet-as-pie Amelia again. Which means if you screw it up, you’ve also burned the last bridge you have to stand on.”
“Thanks, Ollie,” I said sarcastically. I could always count on him to tell me the truth. No one else did.
“I’m serious, Amelia. This movie is everything you aren’t. Hard, dark, exotic—”
“I get it, goddammit. You don’t have to hammer at me anymore.” I frowned, flipping the page.
The very first line I saw was, “Damon ties Blair’s hands to the bed then proceeds to kiss down the space between her breasts.”
“You sure this isn’t a porno?” I asked, not able to take my eyes off the screen directions.
Ollie reached for his desk, grabbed a red book and handed it to me. “It’s based on this novel series, Sinners Like Us. The first book was ranked number one for thirty-two weeks, and fans are dying for a movie. Midnight Empire Studios just acquired the movie rights. This is going to be big, Amelia. Imagine Twilight, The Hunger Games, Fifty Shades…it’s your golden ticket, if you get the part.”
“If?” I frowned. I missed the days when directors fell all over themselves just to get me to do a few lines in their movies. It felt like I was starting over as newbie. My name meant almost nothing now. Sometimes worse than nothing.
“If.” He nodded, folding his hands. “The director and I go way back. I was able to throw your name to the top of the pile. They will see you before they see anyone else, so you have to get their attention.”
How?
I’ve never done sexy or dark.
“Maybe,” I whispered, looking down the lines, “maybe it’s time for me to just take a break? I could go to college and—”
“And always have people come to you and say, ‘Weren’t you that girl from Kid Genius?’ Or ‘What have you done lately?’ It’s either this, or you settle for run-of-the-mill sitcoms. Or worse, you appear on a ‘Where Are They Now?’ segment, maybe have people applaud you for not having a mental breakdown yet. If that’s what you want, just say the word—”
“No!” I almost jumped out of my seat. “I’ll work on this. I’ll figure it out. When is the audition?”
“Today at four.”
“Ollie!” An hour? That’s how long I had to become a sexual vixen? Had he lost his mind?
“Amelia, this is the hottest book of the year. This movie already has 2.6 million followers, and there isn’t a cast list up yet. People are so excited that Sinners Like Us has been trending since the movie announcement went up. Do you understand? This train is waiting for no one.”
“I’ll be there.” I had no idea how this was going to work out, but I would be there. “Is there anything else?”
He paused, and I knew that look.
“It’s not about my mother, is it? Because, Ollie, I’m not going to pay her another—”
“No, the male lead for this has already been cast.”
Jesus, they really were not waiting to start with this movie. “Okay who is it? I’m kind of hoping it’s Bradley—”
“Noah Sloan.”
“God fucking damn it,” I groaned, putting my hand on my forehead.
“Language,” he said, and I fought the urge to flip him off. America’s Sweetheart, Amelia London, didn’t curse. She didn’t party or get in trouble. She was one of the “good ones.” Or at least that’s what my image portrayed, but some days I’d just like to say fuck it all, man.
“I know you and Noah Sloan have a past—”
“That’s putting it mildly,” I scoffed. “Didn’t I read that he got out of rehab like three weeks ago? And yet he still spends more time partying than acting now anyway. How did he get this role?”
Ollie didn’t say anything, lifting up his tablet for me to see what looked to be an online poll. The title above it read, “Who’s your dream Damon Shaw?” Noah’s profile had 89% of over two million votes.
“This movie is all about selling and fulfilling fantasies. Noah’s reputation actually worked to his advantage here. So whatever resentment you have for him? Let it go.”
Everyone thought Noah Sloan was sinful, drop-dead-sexy, and God’s gift to women with his dark brown hair and striking eyes. But whenever I saw him, I just remembered the boy who broke my heart into a thousand little pieces like it was nothing. We had spent our childhood acting as “brother and sister” on the set of Kid Genius before his character had to “move away” when our “parents” got divorced. There were many reasons for the split, but the rumor was that the producers and his actual father didn’t get along. I later went on to date him when were teenagers, but that only lasted a few months before he went cheated on me…publicly.
My first kiss? Noah.
My first time? Noah.
My first heartbreak? Noah.
Now this?
I was sick of him. If I never saw his face again, I wouldn’t care.
“Is this movie really big enough for two child stars trying to make a comeback?” I muttered more to myself than to him.
True to style, he told me the truth: “It better goddamn be, because you’re the one out if otherwise.”
“I’m going to read over this script as quickly as possible now before you tear whatever’s left of my ego.” I got up, grabbing my Chanel bag. “Where is the audition? Is it at the Midnight Empire production house?”
“Yes. I already have the driver waiting out back.” He leaned back, pushing a bottom on his phone to call the driver.
“Honestly, Ollie, he doesn’t have to come around back. It’s not like the paparazzi are waiting for me—”
“I know one of the Kardashians is here, and it wouldn’t look right if you were to get caught coming out with them. We need to protect your good-girl image until this role has been locked down.”
Just like that, I watched the last shreds of my pride and ego burn to ashes. I’d won an Oscar at fourteen. I had at least three dozen screen credits under my belt. And a Kardashian was more important than me. Are you fucking kidding me?
“Wish me luck,” I muttered, walking out the door. I couldn’t afford to lose my cool now.
The driver was already waiting. Following, I put a smile on my face for anyone who looked my way. I’d been playing the good-girl role since the day I turned eighteen. It felt like everyone was waiting for me to lose my mind or go wild at some party, but honestly I didn’t have the time. Ollie kept warning me the end was near, so I spent most of my time trying to get any role I could. If I wasn’t doing that, I was resting at home. I was boring. That seems unbelievable to some people, but the truth is, my idea of a fun time was going braless, sitting in sweats, watching Netflix, eating like a pregnant woman, and then working out in tears for eating so damn much.