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98 Emotional chaos
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2026-01-23 16:01:30
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The Actor's Contract 99 Raincheck
Date = 14 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - EnriqueThe bass from downstairs fades, like even the club knows not to interrupt.Jackson looks exhausted. Older than usual. Like he’s been dragging too many coffins through too many nights.“I’m telling you to leave it, brother.”“Why?”“Because the truth doesn’t fix things. It just makes them heavier.”We stare each other down, silence pulling taut as barbed wire. I suck in a breath, trying not to drown in the weight of it.The clinking of glasses and the faint thump of bass from a test run on the speakers buzz in the background again, but all I can hear is my own breath. Thick. Shaky. Full of the kind of weight that only comes from decades of being lied to.Jackson moves back to his seat. As if the topic is done.“You wonder if he knows about us?” I ask quietly, also sitting down again.Jackson, across from me, doesn’t move at first. He is messing with the tablet, pretending he hasn’t heard. But I see the way his shoulders t
The Actor's Contract 98 Emotional chaos
Date = 14 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - EnriqueThe club is chaos. Not the wild, sweaty kind we built it for — but the kind with white ribbons and floral tape and people arguing over centerpieces. I spot River barefoot on one of the bars, trying to hang peach streamers with her teeth, while Mel yells at someone about candle symmetry.If hell threw a wedding, it would look exactly like this. Lights are half-installed, florals are everywhere, and at least three people are arguing about whether peach is technically a color or just a fruit with delusions of grandeur.I step over a ladder, avoid a child wielding a hot glue gun like a small war criminal, and find Aria outside the club near the delivery area.Her cheeks are flushed from laughing too hard, probably at something Noah said. He always has that casual golden-boy charm. It’s annoying. I adore it.Aria grins like she’s been keeping the world’s best secret, and when she presses a set of keys into Noah’s palm, it’s w
The Actor's Contract 97 Champagne problems
Date = 13 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - AriaI’m mid-sip of champagne when Sky squints at the envelope on the table. Her eyes narrow. Her head tilts. Then she looks at me like she’s just uncovered classified government secrets.I bite my lip.Inside that envelope — creamy white, thick and expensive, SPORT written across the front in big, ridiculous curly letters — is the new ‘contract’ Enrique made me sign.Which I did. Freely, knowingly, and in love.Because I have read every clause — even the fine print. I agree with every word. No amendments are required, and no escape clause is desired.Signed. Sealed. And tomorrow, I will personally deliver it into his hands like the obedient lovesick menace I apparently am.“Why,” Sky asks slowly, dangerously, “do you call him Sport?”Not exactly the question I expected.Mel perks up immediately. “Yeah, I also want to know.”I cough. Hard. Champagne burns its way up my nose. “It’s nothing.”“That,” Mel says with delight, “is a l
The Actor's Contract 96 Wedding jitters
Date = 13 AugustTwo days to go.Place = San Francisco (Black Pit)Our safe zone.POV - AriaIf anyone had told me a year ago that I’d be sitting on the floor two days before my wedding — barefoot, wrapped in a silk robe that cost more than my dignity, inside an estate four times the size of Manhattan — drinking flat champagne with two women who feels like sisters I’ve known my entire life — all of us traumatized — I would’ve laughed in their face and suggested intensive therapy.Possibly medication.Yet here we are — flat on the thick carpet.The couch is occupied by wedding junk — shoes, makeup, a veil I refuse to look at again because it turns me into a weepy liability. And a suit jacket Enrique abandoned earlier, before he left with the boys, as if he was afraid it might bite him.So the floor it is — a half-eaten tub of ice cream sweating onto the rug — our legs crossed, knees touching, close enough that I can feel Mel’s warmth and Sky’s restless energy vibrating beside me.Outsi
The Actor's Contract 95 S.P.O.R.T
Date = 12 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - EnriqueBack in the bedroom, Aria is still on the bed, now sitting up with her legs crossed under the sheet, staring at the phone in her hand.She looks up when I step through the door, and a soft smile curves her mouth — the kind that always makes my chest tighten, like she’s been waiting for me.“Did they break in?” she asks, voice light, but her eyes search my face.“They came. They saw. They interrogated.”Her laugh bubbles out, quick and warm, chasing away the sting of the earlier chaos. She tilts her head, hair brushing her cheek. “You fed them?”“Can’t kill them. I’m too pretty for prison.”She sets her phone aside and pats the spot beside her.I go. I always go. Always will. The bed sighs under my weight as I sink down, close enough to breathe her in — soap, bread, the faint ghost of her perfume. I offer her half of my sandwich, and she accepts without hesitation, biting into it like it’s communion. She chews slowly, eye
The Actor's Contract 94 Hold the mustard
Date = 12 AugustI’m done hiding and sulking.Place = San Francisco (Black Pit)Our new home.POV - EnriqueWe lay tangled in the soft cotton sheets of the bed in our new ‘home’, still sticky from the kind of slow sex that makes your chest feel cracked open and full at the same time. Drifting in that lull right after climax when everything feels both weightless and impossibly heavy.Her head is tucked into the crook of my shoulder, one leg hooked lazily over my hip as if she owns me. Because she does. Her breath ghosts over my ribs, slow and steady, and my heart’s trying to keep time with it.I should say something. Anything.But I don’t.Because I know what she’s going to say before she even says it.“I know it’s not ideal,” she whispers, her fingers absently playing with the edge of the sheet that drapes over my rather enthusiastic manhood. “But maybe we should postpone the wedding a little?”Her voice is soft. Hesitant.And it cuts.I don’t answer. My fingers keep tracing the insid
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