“Amelia. Amelia?”
“Huh? Sorry,” I said brushing my hair back behind my ears.
She looked me over and placed her hand on my forehead, holding a wine glass in the other hand. “You look pale. Amelia, I swear, you better not get sick. Not now!”
“I’m fine, Mom.” I pulled her hand off of my head. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon. What happened to Clément and running away to Paris?”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes, moving to my couch. “Who needs men when my daughter is about to make her breakout role?”
That was code for “he dumped me.”
“Mom, it’s hardly my breakout role—”
“Everyone is talking about it. Where is the script? I can run lines with you, just like old times. Oh! I heard you’re working with that sexy Noah Sloan? Didn’t you guys hate each other as kids? When is your flight? It’s not shooting here in LA is it? Have you made sure to get everything waxed? I know this great Vietnamese woman—she will having you looking ten again—”
“MOM!” I yelled, putting my hands out. I felt like I was about ten right now. “Breathe. I’ve got everything handled. I have an early morning flight to catch, so please giving me some space. If I need anything, I’ll ask. I promise.”
She frowned, no longer drinking. “You want me to leave?”
“Mom, it’s just—”
“No, I get it. You’re not a child. I just wanted to celebrate with you because this is a big moment. Sorry for bothering you.”
She slowly gathered up her purse and shoes, even pretending to sniffle. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
“It’s only 9:00. You can stay for a little bit longer,” I said, giving in and taking a seat on my couch. She grinned and pressed herself beside me like we were best friends about to share some secret.
“Are you excited? Oliver must be over the moon,” she questioned before placing the glass back to her lips. Sometimes it was more troublesome to fight her, so I often lied.
“Yeah, I’m excited. So is Ollie.”
“You’re not worried about the sex scenes and whatnot? You’re going to be fully naked, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, but it’s not a big deal. Like you always said: it’s only real if I make it real.”
She tapped my nose. “Aren’t you glad you had me? Most girls would be panicking. But not you. You’re a professional. I made you one. So never forget that. You’re going to shock everyone in the best way.”
I was actually so nervous that I felt like I was going to be sick. But how could I tell her that? And what would be the point? She never listened.
“You really think so, Mom? I doubt this will get me any awards or anything.” I forced myself to smile as I leaned on her.
“So? I had a few by the time I was your age, but times are changing. This is just the door to something greater. When you get a whole league of fans, your name will suddenly be gold again. Never let them stop talking about you, Amelia. The moment they do, your life is over. And that’s a horror you shouldn’t have to face at twenty-two.”
I’m twenty-five.
“I know.” I didn’t want to hear that, but I agreed with her anyway. She glanced up around my apartment.
“Don’t you think this place is kind of small?” she asked, frowning.
“Mom, it’s a three-thousand-square-foot apartment. It’s more than enough.”
“If you say so. But whenever you want to move back into the mansion, let me know.”
Seeing as how I paid for it, I wondered why I had to let her know.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She patted my arm. “My sweet baby. I’ll let you get some rest. Remember, you aren’t just anyone. You are my daughter, the fabulous Amelia London.”
“I could never forget.” Because you tell me every single time you see me, yet I feel anything but fabulous.
I stood up with her, moving to the door. She handed me her glass and kissed my cheeks before leaving. When she was gone, I exhaled deeply, placing her glass in the sink. I was tempted to have a glass myself, but the last thing I needed was to get wasted the night before we went on location.
It all started tomorrow.
Noah
Out of all the women in the world who could have been cast as Blair Hawthorne, it had to be Amelia. Fucking Amelia. Goddammit.
“I can’t do this movie,” I said to Austin as I glanced around the club. I had no idea what I was looking for until I found it.
“You’re kidding, right?” he yelled over the roaring music, reaching for the champagne bottle in the middle of the glass table.
Looking him dead in the eye, I shook my head. “Austin, get me out of this movie.”
“No.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you cannot keep running from her for the rest of your life, Noah. Don’t you think you’ve punished yourself enough? It’s been almost a decade already.”
Snatching the bottle from him, I stood up. “You are not my therapist. Your job is to get me what I want. And I do not want to be in a movie with Amelia London. Especially this movie.”
“Fine, but remember that if you’re out, someone else is in. Someone will be with her—”
Ignoring him, I followed Daniel as he lifted the ribbon blocking the VIP area from the rest of the club. Pushing through the crowd, my head felt like it was going to explode, but I wasn’t sure if was from the DJ or just stress at this point.
I’m a horrible guy on most days, but when it came to Amelia, I was always at my worst. I didn’t even know if I had a good side anymore, but I knew I didn’t want to figure it out while she was near me. Even now, I could still see her face: she was sixteen then, her light brown hair an absolute mess, her blue eyes so red, I thought she had tried to claw them out of her own head.
She’d asked me one question: “Why?”
I couldn’t reply. I still couldn’t reply. I just wanted the image out of my head.
As I made my way into the bathroom, the bottle I had forgotten I was carrying slipped out of my hands as they shook.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Some guy glanced back at me, zipping up his jeans.
“Get out,” I whispered, gripping the marble sink.
“What—”
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” I growled. Luckily, before it got worse, Austin—my personal shadow—slipped the bastard a few bills and shoved him toward the door. He checked under every stall to make sure we were alone.
“You need to be—”
“Pills,” I cut him off.
“Noah.”
“Pills!” I stretched my hand out for them.
Sighing, he reached into his jacket and tried to pour them into my hand for me, but I snatched them and poured more than I should have into the palm of my hand before tossing them in my mouth. Without water, I swallowed.
“I’m not doing the movie,” I said again.
“Let’s get you home.”
“I can’t, Austin.” He ignored me, placing one of my arms over his shoulders to help me walk. I didn’t realize how badly I needed it until I tried to step forward. Everything was out of focus, but I preferred that. I didn’t want to see anyone’s face anyway.