“Yeah, it would’ve,” I admit, feeling like an ass. “I don’t know. I just needed to get out of my house, I guess.”
“Heard you went to the drunk tank last night. And that Vanessa came and got your ass this morning.”
“Also not my finest hour.”
He sighs. “Are you hooking up with her?”
No, but someone is, and it’s not her boyfriend. I think back to this morning, the fierce way she laid her lips on Mini-Jade, and feel a little shittier than I did a minute ago. “Trust me, I’m not. She’s otherwise occupied.”
“Oh, come on. I’ve fake-dated Van. I recognize her ‘I’m so not into this’ eyes. You can’t tell me she’s actually into Wilson. At all.”
I’m not telling you that, I wish I could say, but I know that I can’t. I’m dying to tell Liam what I saw, but… it’d be a douche thing to do. I know that. I don’t really know what happened this morning, and even if I think I do, she’s been a good friend — something I haven’t had many of in life. In fact, I’m kinda standing in front of my only other one right now. So, if that means keeping my mouth shut, even on a secret this good — and hot — for once? I think she’s probably earned it.
To Liam, I just shrug. “I don’t get it either, man.”
“So, are you planning on telling me exactly what happened last night to urge you to blow up at me and then get so piss-ass blitzed you got arrested?”
“Nothing happened, exactly. I just needed to blow off some steam.”
He waits for more, and I don’t really even know what else to give him.
“Things are sort of shitty right now,” I say after a minute of silence. “I don’t have any work coming up, this reality show is constantly in my face, my parents still haven’t signed over the house, and—”
I stop myself before I can possibly say another word about K-drama; Lord knows I’ve said enough. I don’t even know why I give a shit, except that…I’m bored.
I never, ever thought I would get bored of living like this. But now I get why George Clooney used to switch it up with a new constant every year or two. Hooking up may stay fun, but picking girls up? That gets tiresome as hell. The giggling, the “I shouldn’t do this, it’s so bad!” and now the hoping to be caught on camera as my arm candy…I don’t want any of that. I don’t want to start over every night; I wanna know who I’m going home with. I like that K-drama’s someone I can tell shit to and then have as company in my car or while I eat breakfast. I like staring at her legs in my kitchen. I’m not in love with her or anything — I know that — but I’ve gotten used to her in a way I don’t entirely hate.
“Do you want to have anything coming up?” Liam asks, brows furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. I just feel like you don’t really care. Like, take this movie — you might’ve been able to get an audition, but you didn’t even try. And this should be your thing, shouldn’t it? It’s a down-’n-dirty, hangin’-with-the-boys kinda thing, not to mention that it would’ve gotten you tons of ass.” He rolls his eyes, because #LiamProblems. “But…do you even wanna act? In anything?”
I know I should be able to say “sure” easily — I mean, it’s easy enough, and Daylight Falls was okay. But the truth is, he’s right. I don’t. I can’t imagine a single part in the world right now that would get me excited or focused enough to stare at my script the way he does. It’s not like I came to Hollywood to act; I act because I’m already in Hollywood.
And just as I realize that simple fact, my entire world comes crashing down.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I blurt out, because it comes to me so suddenly, so harshly, that I can’t even keep the words in.
“Josh—”
“No, seriously, Holloway. What the fuck? I’m in my mom’s reality show, so I can stay in a house my parents own. I do this acting and modeling shit not because I like it but because I’m here—which, again, my parents. How did I not realize that my parents — two people I barely have anything to do with — are somehow still dictating my entire fucking life?”
Liam cracks a smile. “I wouldn’t say they’ve got all that much control over you, Chester. You did just come from the drunk tank. But for what it’s worth, I gotta say, now that I’m doing movies I care about, I’m actually learning to love this stuff. And I have my own place, and I’ve got Ally. And still, I find life hard as hell. If it’s this tough now that I finally have everything I want, how do you get through it having none of that?”
The question stings a lot more than he meant it to, I’m sure, because Liam’s not an asshole. He’s genuinely perplexed. And I guess I am, too. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But he’s right that it’s not making me happy. I don’t want the spotlight, I don’t want to do what I’m doing, and I’m not having fun with life as I’m living it anymore.
But what do I want?
So far, unfortunately, there’s only one answer to that question. And this morning gave me a pretty decent idea that that feeling isn’t mutual.
Then again, Mini-Jade did insist it wasn’t what it looked like. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t, but it seems stupid now not to at least know for sure. Back when I used to enjoy shit a lot more, at least half the fun was in taking chances.
Now I just have to take one more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Vanessa
I let myself into the house as quietly as I can, praying that I’ll get lucky for one more night with my parents’ absence. Having a lot of family in the area means they’re out a decent amount, but I realize as soon as I close the door behind me that I won’t have any such luck tonight.
My parents are both waiting for me on the couch.
I don’t think my parents have ever both waited for me on the couch.
“Hi,” I greet them quietly, knowing I won’t get any points for acting like nothing’s wrong.
“Sit down, Vanessa.” My father is a soft-spoken man — always has been — but it usually comes off as gentle. Right now, though, it’s a fearsome kind of quiet. It’s the most sure I’ve been that Something Bad is coming since my grandfather died. I immediately comply.
When I do sit and finally look at my mother, I can see that her eyes are rimmed in red. My stomach clenches at the knowledge I’ve made my mother cry, that I’m doing a bang-up job in general of hurting people I care about lately. Really not the kind of thing I’ve ever aspired to.
They’re both silent, like they’re waiting for me to kick off the conversation I’d rather die than have. I don’t know what they know yet. Lord knows they’ve never been very interested in my career. They don’t support it so much as they just don’t get in the way of it, which, while hurtful, has always been the best I’ve known I could ask for.
Today, though, I suspect that’s about to change.
Finally, I can’t take the angst anymore, and I venture out with, “I’m not sure what you think you know, but I can explain all of it.”
It’s the wrong thing to say; the flash of anger in my father’s dark eyes makes that patently clear. “Explanations no longer matter, Vanessa. We have allowed you to live this lifestyle for long enough. We said when you first auditioned that we would allow this as long as you behaved well and kept up your education.”
“And I have,” I burst out. “I have been so good. I’ve gone to family events, even when it’s meant bailing on award shows. I had Ally tutor me for the SATs last year, and I did well enough — the second time, at least — to get into UCLA. And—”