There’s no hope for me. No chance I’m going to change. I’m just going to be the same miserable fuck for the rest of my life, caught in the same repetitive cycles, this hell I’ve created.
Last night, I wondered what the least painful way would be to die. I thought I could give the housekeeper a call so my body wouldn’t rot too much before I was found. Sorry, Sandra. I drank myself to sleep. But by the time I woke up again, something shifted inside me. Daring to have some hope, I guess, that things could be different. I just don’t know how. I don’t know how to change.
There’s a knock on the door. Who the hell is that? My dad only leaves voicemails. He never comes to visit. Another knock, and then a jingling of keys. My heart beats harder when I think of the possibility. Mattie, walking in through the door. I want to see him, even though I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t want him to be anywhere near me.
Audrey calls my name. “Logan?”
I manage to force myself up from the couch enough that she sees me. Disgust is smeared across her face as she looks around the apartment. I must smell like shit, too. It’s kind of sad, maybe, that I’m not even embarrassed. She’s seen far worse.
“Where the hell have you been?” she says, heels clacking closer.
“Here.” My voice is hoarse.
“I’ve been calling you for a week straight, Logan. I was afraid I’d walk in and find…”
She doesn’t finish that sentence, and I don’t say she was close to that happening.
Audrey takes a handful of bottles from the center table. “You need to get up. I got a call from Reynolds.”
I stare up at the ceiling. “I’m already off the promo tour, right?”
“Yes, but he has another request. Another way you can help the film’s promotion.”
They already cut me from all publicity. What more could they possibly want?
“Reynolds let me know that he and Vanessa Stone thought it might be as good a time as any to publicly end your relationship with Matthew,” Audrey says. “He wants to move up the scheduled breakup.”
I flinch. I haven’t spoken to Matt going on a month now. “Why would they want that?”
“There’s been surprisingly good response to Matt’s message, but it’s not enough. The numbers for the film took a hit. Reynolds thinks there’s still a chance to save the film if you two break it off. Lean into the bad publicity instead of trying to avoid it.”
“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”
She ignores me. “Audiences will be interested in the drama. Sales always go up around celebrity breakups.”
“That isn’t the whole reason, is it?”
Audrey purses her thin lips. “Reynolds has never been happy with you,” she says. “He doesn’t want you publicly attached to the film going forward.”
“Besides being the lead actor, you mean?”
“He says detaching you will lessen the chances of another…incident.”
“And being Matt’s boyfriend attaches me too much, I guess.”
Audrey’s face softens. She smooths down the back of her dress and sits on the couch beside me. “This is a perfect opportunity for you to take some time for yourself. You can regroup. Work on your image, try to prepare for potential auditions.”
I rest my head on the back of the sofa. “You really think anyone will be interested in me for auditions right now?”
“They might be,” she says, “if the film does well enough. The relationship has served its purpose and run its course. The attention of this breakup could turn focus back to the film while Matthew is on tour.”
I’ve been in this business long enough to understand what she means. Matt’s interviewers will inevitably fish around for questions about me, this scandal with Briggs, the assault—things that could sour the movie’s image. But if Mattie and I have broken up, then he can have more power to say that he doesn’t know how I’m doing, we haven’t spoken in weeks, is it okay to focus on the movie? Maybe he could even rev up some pity points. He could say that the celebration of this film is bittersweet, because even though I’ve broken his heart, he still loves this movie so much. There’s plenty of upside for publicly ending this relationship. It’d be good for Matt, too, in the end. Better for him to not be connected to me.
Audrey asks me if I’m still listening.
“Yeah. I’m listening.”
“This is a good thing,” she says. Always trying to put a positive spin on shit.
“Right. What do they need me to do?”
Mattie
Paola picks me up from my hotel and gives me a tight, warm hug. I check my phone as I pull on my seatbelt. I texted Logan a few times—after my fight with my dad, when I found a hotel in Atlanta, and when I landed in LA yesterday. Nothing. At least in person, I’m able to look him in the eye and tell him not to push me away, but now…
“Everything all right?” Paola asks me, looking over her shoulder as she pulls into traffic.
“Yeah. I think so.” I don’t want to get into my personal life right now. She doesn’t need to worry about my relationship with my father or with Logan.
“It’s amazing how much you’ve turned everything around with that post,” she says. “There’s just something about you that people want to love, Mattie.”
I try not to think about the fact that I wish one person in particular wanted to love me, too.
She meets my eye. “Are you ready?”
Vanessa Stone got in touch with Paola to request a meeting in her office. Vanessa’s production company is one of the highest earning in the industry. She could end my career with the blink of an eye. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of impressing her, but I’m nervous not knowing why she wants to meet in the first place.
“As ready as I can be,” I tell her.
Vanessa is waiting for us in a conference room when her assistant guides us in through the glass doors. I’m surprised to see Reynolds there in his business suit and Dave standing awkwardly by the tall glass windows. He spins around when we walk in. Vanessa stands up. She has a short, sleek black bob, a dark gray dress, six-inch heels. Her handshake is firm, and she gestures to the seats opposite her at the table.
I try to swallow down the nerves, sitting opposite Vanessa and Reynolds. My old childhood stage fright isn’t as bad as it usually is. A lot has changed, since I’ve started to learn to stand up for myself and let go of my shame. But it’s still scary, sitting opposite such powerful people in the industry. Dave rejoins us at the table, giving a quick, friendly nod. It’s strange to see him again after over a month, when we’d been working with each other almost every day.
Vanessa begins. “It’s great to see you. I haven’t had a chance to watch the film yet, but I’ve heard it’s expected to be well-received. Are you looking forward to the promo tour?”
I flip through the roles I’m used to playing and snag the confident, up-and-coming movie star. I put on a charming grin. “Yeah, of course. That’s the fun part of the job, right?”
Vanessa chuckles in the back of her throat, lips still tightly pressed together. “We wanted to have a chat with you about our plan. A quick prep to your prep sessions, I suppose you could say.”