Dash’s vision blurred as he picked up the pace and nearly sprinted toward the signs for the bathrooms. The smell of buttery popcorn nauseated him. He passed other people in suits and gowns along the way, knocking shoulders and muttering apologies. He just needed to be completely alone. So when he went into the single-stall bathroom, he locked it behind him and leaned against the door.
He took in deep, panicked gulps of air. He couldn’t calm his breathing, and there was a ringing in his ears. He wasn’t sure if he could even make sense of his own thoughts over the deafening sound.
How had a reporter found out about his stint in rehab? Who had told them? There were strict NDAs the staff at the facility had signed to make sure no one ever found out he’d been there. AA was anonymous, and while he supposed someone in the group could’ve leaked his secret, what awful person would do something like that?
He hadn’t told anyone, other than Chris and…fuck. His goddamn TikTok stalker knew he was in recovery.
He pulled out his phone, opened the TikTok app, and went to his messages.
@craftycindy Don’t ignore me.
@craftycindy what did I do wrong?? You trusted me, what changed?
@craftycindy is it your “girlfriend”？
@craftycindy I can find her too, you know
@tokcrafty2me Leave me alone or I will call the cops
He bit the bottom of his lip so hard he tasted blood. That had been his last message to her. A threat to call the cops—which he had no intention of really doing. Had that pushed her to tell the press his secret? What else did they know?
Then there was a knock. And two more. And finally, his mom’s terse voice through the door. “Dash, open up.”
He swallowed back another new lump in his throat, unlocked the door, and let her in.
She swiftly shut and locked the door behind her. She towered over him in stilettos, and he avoided her gaze.
“You ran.” Her tone was measured and matter-of-fact. “When that reporter asked you about abusing drugs, you practically ran off the red carpet.”
He didn’t answer. Kitty always knew every single thing that went on with her children, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words out loud. He’d wanted to tell his mother about being sober, but on his own terms and his own time, when he was ready. And in that moment, standing in a blue suit with the bow tie she’d picked for him, and sweat pooling under his arms in the fluorescent bathroom lighting, he didn’t feel ready to talk about his addiction issues.
“I see.” Kitty’s hand went to her temple, and she lightly touched a spot there. Then she shook her shoulders out and put a hand on Dash’s arm. “Are you okay?”
He looked up, surprised to hear concern in her voice. “I’m not, no.”
He hadn’t expected to tell her the truth, but when his mom knew something, she was like a human lie detector, and there was no sense in hiding from her in that moment.
She exhaled sharply, then wrapped him in a hug. He let her, and as she held him there, his body began to shake, but this time he was fighting against tears that he couldn’t hold back. And he cried into the shoulder of her dress for what felt like several minutes.
“Your dress.” He pulled away from her and there was a large wet stain across her shoulder.
“There are jackets for this exact kind of thing.” She stroked a hand through his hair. “Dash, look at me.”
And he looked, because when it came to his mother, he tended to do whatever she told him.
“I love you very much.” Her eyes held his there, and for a moment, he wondered if this would be the Hallmark moment that some people in AA experienced when they spoke their truth.
This, however, was Kitty Montrose, and she didn’t do sappy. “There’s no nice way to say this, so I’m just going to have to say it. This night is not about you, Dash.”
The words slammed into him, like an accusation that he’d somehow tried to take away attention from his brother. He hadn’t even wanted to come. He’d been asked to attend, and now his mom was suggesting he’d intentionally tried to make this about him?
“I know that,” he quickly fired back.
“Tonight is about Reece. This may be one of the biggest moments of his career—the start of an action franchise, just as your father had—and we can’t have it overshadowed by what’s going on with you.”
His jaw set tight. He wanted to leave. He wanted to be home and away from the chaos his family always managed to bring with them.
“I’ll go,” he said. He moved to brush past her, but she stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
“You’re going to come out of this bathroom, and when you do, a PA will lead you out a back door where there will be a car waiting. The car will take you home, and I will tell your brother that you weren’t feeling well. Then you and I will talk on Friday. I will handle this.”
He didn’t know what to say. She’d planned the whole thing before even coming into the bathroom, already certain that Dash couldn’t continue to be there. Already knowing or thinking that he would cause a scene and ruin the whole night for their family, tarnish the golden reputation she’d built for them.
Dash was the problem. He was the person always threatening to ruin something, and he didn’t belong anywhere near them.
All he could do was give her a single nod in return. She squeezed his shoulder, though any warmth was gone as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
The PA was waiting for him, just as his mom had promised. And his dad also stood there, in a gray fitted suit, but his normally bright eyes were dull and creased with concern. Dash glanced at him briefly, then looked away, not wanting to see any more judgment than he’d already received from his mother. He pursed his lips and followed the PA toward a door down the hall.
“Son.” He turned at his dad’s voice.
Dash opened his mouth, but before he could answer, his mom called out, “William.”
They both turned. She met them, grabbed William’s arm, and whispered into his ear. His dad hesitated as he looked to Kitty, then Dash. Eventually he grabbed Dash to bring him in for a hug.
Dash had not been hugged by his dad since…well, he couldn’t remember when. And he stood frozen to the spot as he let his dad embrace him. “Your mother means well, even though it doesn’t feel that way all the time. I hope you know that. She assured me we’ll fight this.” Then his dad pulled back but said into his ear, “Be strong.”
Yes, Be strong, Dash. Words he’d heard so many times when he didn’t want to be on set, or auditioning for a role, or at some event he’d been asked to attend. Dash shoved down whatever hesitations he had, turned away from his parents, and walked toward the open door that would take him home.
19
SOPHIE
Sophie should’ve gone home. But she’d already waited two hours, so what was one more?
She sat on a bench as the summer heat burned the concrete and sent warmth up through the soles of her sandals. Even the shade from the overhead palms that lined the sidewalk didn’t provide any kind of relief. She was outside Formosa Cafe, a historic landmark that was a restaurant and bar. The interior was all wood paneling, terrazzo floors, and red booths that gave off a classic Hollywood vibe, which was fitting, since stars like James Dean and Ava Gardner used to drink there. Sophie had also drunk at the bar before, and she could use one of their green tea martinis to cool down.