The first thing I felt when I walked onto the soundstage was how completely fake everything felt. The sun outside had been too bright. The fake sun here, blasted through high-powered lights, felt even more suffocating. I adjusted my coat, stepped past a camera crane, and tried to steady my steps. Makeup was already on. The costume, already clinging to my skin. Lines fully memorized. Or so I thought."Places, everyone!"A crew member waved me over. I walked across the polished kitchen set, heels clicking against the laminate floor that looked like wood but wasn’t. Everything here was pretend. Pretend house. Pretend heartbreak. Pretend Helen.The scene was simple: dinner confrontation. My character, Elise, finds out her partner has been lying for months. She confronts him across the kitchen table, a slow burn that turns explosive.I knew the scene. I’d read it a dozen times. Rehearsed it in my bathroom mirror until I got the pacing right. Elise was supposed to cry by the third beat,
The message sat there on my phone like a wound I couldn’t close.“I don’t know what hurts more. Watching it or knowing you saw me and didn’t stop.”That was what I had sent. And now I hate myself for it. Not because it wasn’t real. But because it was.I paced the length of my room, arms crossed, jaw locked. I hadn’t eaten. I hadn't slept more than a couple hours. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw them. Her hand resting on his knee. The way her lips curled right before the kiss. That look in her eyes—soft, free. Like she wasn’t haunted by anything.She looked... happy. I had imagined every kind of reunion with Helen. Screaming matches. Tearful hugs. Maybe silence. But never this. Never a quiet knife to the chest. Never her looking at someone else like he was her world now.I stopped in front of the mirror and stared.My eyes were bloodshot. There was a twitch in my left cheek I couldn’t stop. My shirt was wrinkled. I looked like hell. But it wasn’t just the reflection that bothered me
The car ride home was a blur of red lights, loud music, and anger pressed tight behind my ribs.I shouldn't have been driving, I knew it. But logic had left me hours ago, somewhere between the velvet ropes and the look on Helen’s face when she saw me. That kiss. That moment. It was seared into my skull like a scar that had just been made. I couldn’t see straight, but my hands gripped the wheel hard enough to crack bones. I was breathing hard, jaw clenched, the engine roaring beneath me as I swerved through the city like I was trying to outrun what I saw.It didn’t work.Nothing could outrun that image.The roads blurred. I missed my exit twice. I cursed at the GPS like it was the enemy. Every red light felt like an attack. Every car in front of me was in my way. At some point, I screamed in the car—loud, guttural, raw—just to feel something other than this pressure in my chest.When I finally pulled into my driveway, I slammed the brakes so hard, the tires screeched. The gate had
I didn’t even turn on the lights. I just sat on the couch in the dark, knees pulled to my chest, staring into nothing. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that feels unnatural—like the walls themselves are holding their breath. The almost quiet hum of the fridge. The occasional creak of the building settling. The tick of the clock.Time moved.But I didn’t.My phone buzzed once.I turned it to see Jace’s name flashing across the screen.“Are you okay?” He texted. I locked the screen without responding. I wasn’t okay. Not in any way that mattered. And the only person I wanted to talk to was the one who had walked out of that club like I didn’t exist anymore.I knew what he saw.He saw me kissing another man. In public. In that dress. In that glow. In a place we never liked going to.God. I hadn’t even realized we were walking into the same club until I was already inside. The irony hit later—once the damage was done.I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.And suddenly I was back there
The moment his face flickered through the crowd, something inside me snapped—like a wine glass tipped off a table. Silent at first. Then shattering.It couldn’t be.But it was him. Ashton.He was standing there, just past the velvet ropes, past the glow and haze of the VVIP lounge. Half-shadowed by the dim lighting, half-exposed by the fury in his eyes. I wasn’t even sure when he got here. But he was. And I knew that look.I knew it better than anyone ever could.That was the look he wore when he lost his Dad. When we fought in the rain. When I told him I needed space and didn’t say how long. It was a look that meant something inside him had broken open.And he was watching me.Me.Laughing.And kissing Jace.God. That kiss.We hadn’t planned it. Jace leaned in at the exact moment I was turning toward him. It was more of a reflex than romance. And yes, maybe we’d been talking a little too close all night. But I wasn’t thinking about kisses or Ashton or anything at that moment.And t
Dan was still talking. Something about work, or his new place, or the girl he walked in with—I wasn't really paying attention anymore. My thoughts were somewhere else, drowning in the rhythm of the bass and the weight in my chest. The water helped, sure, but not enough. Not enough to numb the ache or erase the image of Helen in the crowd. Or someone who looked just like her. Or maybe it really was her.I didn’t know anymore.But then I heard it.A voice.Her voice.Clear as day. Smooth. Familiar. Effortless.Laughter. Just a little.Like wind chimes I hadn’t heard in years.I froze. My glass slipped slightly from my hand, and I straightened like someone had hit a nerve."Wait."Dan looked up. "What?"I blinked and turned toward the direction the sound had come from."I just heard her voice," I said. Louder than I meant to. "I swear to God I just heard Helen."Dan winced, clearly not ready to go down that road again. "Come on, man, we just talked about this. Could've been anyone. Mu