Star-Crossed Letters (Falling for Famous #1)(92)

“Because you officially got the offer for Max Thunder?” Sebastian asks.

“How do you know about that?”

“Eh. We told you before. Privacy’s a myth.”

My eyes do a slow sweep of the room, and no one looks surprised.

“No one in the industry would turn it down,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “What would you do, Sebastian?” I’m asking Sebastian for advice. I’m truly at rock bottom.

Sebastian laughs. “I’d be on that role so fucking fast, everyone’s head would spin. I’d lock that shit up. But, dude, I’m not you. You gotta do what you want. Agents, fans, studios will tell us how we should run our business and careers, but it’s not their life. It’s ours.”

“You’ve never turned down a big role,” I scoff.

“The hell I haven’t,” Sebastian says. “No one believed I could get another job after I had my public meltdown at eighteen. Instead, I had the biggest offer of my career from a director who loved a wild child. I was a walking disaster, but the only thing Hollywood cared about was how much money I’d make for them, and the only thing fans cared about was what movie I’d do next. Something told me that if I did that movie, I’d end up dead. I walked away, checked myself in to rehab, and disappeared for a year. It was the best decision I ever made. Everyone wants what you can do for them. That’s why you have to figure out what you want and have the balls to make it happen, to hell with the industry and the rest of the world.”

I think about what Sebastian said. Taking the movie deal and becoming an even bigger star is a guarantee that I would become even more restricted, even more hunted, even more alone. The money and fame would push me farther away from friends and family. I’d be whisked from hotel to movie sets enclosed in cars and private jets, never having to interact with regular life.

“Much as I hate to say it, Sebastian’s right,” Ryder says. “You need to decide what you want. You’re smart and loaded. If you want the girl and she wants you, figure out a way to make it happen.”

“You’re scared.” Daisy’s words are an arrow, shooting straight and true. “You’re scared of loving someone and losing them. So you don’t let anyone get too close.”

I flinch at her accusation, at the bone-deep truth of it.

I have so many reasons for not being with Olivia. Good ones. Valid ones. But in the end, they are all an excuse because I’m scared to try for something real.

Scared to lose. Scared to love.

But I already fell in love with Olivia, I admit to myself. And I’ve already lost her.

“It’s simple. Do what makes you happy, dude,” Sebastian says.

“Happy, huh?” I rub my jaw.

I’m not sure about much of anything. But I know I’m most happy when I’m with Olivia.





CHAPTER 36





Olivia



It’s been two weeks since I got back to San Francisco. Two weeks since I first walked into my house again. The house looks like new. Thanks to Chase, the damage was repaired, as if the fire had never happened. Even the roof is fixed, the crumbling steps like new, the entire house gleaming with a fresh coat of paint inside and out.

I don’t know how he did it in such a short amount of time. It must have cost a fortune; one I can’t pay back. I should be mad that he took it upon himself. But every time I look at the house, all I feel is relief and a warmth that he cared enough about me to care for something that I love.

Luckily, I didn’t lose too many personal possessions in the fire since it was mostly confined to the upstairs bathroom and hallway. I did have to replace many of my clothes and buy a new mattress and comforter because I couldn’t remove the smoke smell. But at least I’m having fun playing with my style now, and I seem to be leaning more towards retro romance and away from goth homesteader.

Since I’ve been back from Malibu, so much has changed. Despite my heartbreak—or perhaps because of it—I have clarity. The distance gave me a renewed perspective on my life, and I didn’t like a lot of what I saw.

The last two weeks have been about making changes, subtle shifts of my life’s landscape. I turned down my friend’s offer to be a technical writer. Yes, it was a steady job I could use to keep up my house and ease the bills. But every time I thought of going to work for them, my heart contracted.

If I took a job like that, I’d likely give up on my dreams of being a published author. I also took a hard look at myself. Though I’ve spent the last eight years writing novels, I’ve never had the guts to try for publication, fearing rejection. If I didn’t try, no one could say no. Earlier today, I submitted my current manuscript to a list of agents. It’s scary but liberating to move forward.

I wish I could move forward from my broken heart as easily. I ache for Chase. It’s like walking around with a gaping hole in my chest, as if my heart is outside of me and I’ll never be complete without him.

Three days ago, I got my broken phone back. The tech guy performed a miracle and fixed it. And there on that little screen was Remington’s number and all our thousands of texts. I also read his increasingly upset messages from when I first ghosted him.

The first night back with my phone, I went to bed, reading over the years of messages. Reading them through a new lens. And what came through was just how much Remington—Chase—had needed me throughout all those years, just as I had needed him. Even while he was catapulting to movie stardom, he needed a friend as much as I did.