Before I even realize, it’s midnight. Blake’s still not back.
What if he went to drown his sorrows with Lila?
I try to ignore my insecurities, but there’s no avoiding the truth: he doesn’t want to see me. Whatever he’s going through, he’s determined to do it alone.
Reluctantly, I grab my coat and head for the door. Nothing about tonight has played out the way I imagined. I pictured us snuggling together on the couch—and then retreating to his bedroom to pick up where we left off in the city. Instead, I’m driving home alone, feeling more anxious about our relationship than ever before.
It starts raining even before I put the key in the ignition, a gentle smatter of raindrops on the windscreen. Then, suddenly, the skies open in a torrential downpour. I drive slow, the headlights beaming through the dark, glad I only have a mile to go to the B&B. When I pull up outside the cottage, I pause in the driver’s seat, waiting for the rain to let up.
Then I see someone in the beam from my headlights, huddled under the awning by the front door, drenched through.
It’s Blake.
16.
Blake
Dammit, I shouldn’t have come here, but I couldn’t think what else to do.
Everything is crumbling down around me, everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve. My hopes and dreams destroyed with one single phone call, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do next. I hate that I yelled at Zoey, that I pushed her away. I didn’t want her to see me at my worst, I couldn’t bear to reveal the mess that I really am, but now I’m here, standing drenched on her doorstep.
A failure.
“Blake?” Zoey races through the rain from her car. “What are you doing here? You’re soaked through!”
Her blonde hair is plastered wet to her head and her beautiful blue eyes are full of concern for me. I feel an ache in my chest. I shouldn’t be here, dragging her down with my bullshit. I shouldn’t be burdening her with my problems.
“I should go—” I turn away, already regretting showing up at all.
“No!” Zoey quickly unlocks the front door and pulls me inside the B&B. It’s dark, just a lamp in the hallway, and total silence around. “Shh,” she says quickly. “Don’t wake the others.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, regret slamming me hard. I’m still screwing this up, even trying to make it right. “I shouldn’t have come. I just needed to see you, I’m sorry—”
“It’s OK.” Zoey blinks at me, confusion in her eyes. “Come on, you need to get warm.”
She leads me up the old wooden staircase and down the hall to her room. I catch her hand, but Zoey gasps, clutching it. “You’re freezing,” she says, closing the door behind us. She grabs a blanket from the bed and wraps it around my wet shoulders. “How long were you out there? You could have caught a chill. Blake, you can’t get sick, not with the shooting schedule for next week—”
“Fuck the shooting schedule.” I throw the blanket down, that desperate anger rearing up in my chest. “It doesn’t matter what I do now, the movie’s screwed, just having me in the lead.”
“You know that’s not true,” Zoey protests.
I exhale, sinking down on the bed. “But it is.”
I look up at Zoey, wracked with guilt and self-loathing. “I let them down, I let them all down. The studio, the director, my management… They took a chance on me, and I fucked up, and now everyone has to pay the price.”
I bury my head in my hands, just imagining their reactions back in Hollywood. I was so excited to hear how the screening went, I left messages with my agent Josh all day. I was expecting rave reviews, everyone to tell me how great I was.
I wasn’t prepared for what he said.
“It’s…got some problems,” Josh told me reluctantly, when he finally returned my calls. “They’re going to kick it around, think about re-shoots, or going back for a new edit.”
The truth smashed through me. Josh usually buries his bad news in five layers of sugar-coated bullshit. For him to give it to me straight like this, it must be bad.
“What kind of problems?” I demanded, panicking. “Is this just stuff with the story, or pacing, or…?”
Josh sighed. “The whole thing’s a mess, nobody’s getting out of this with their reputation squeaky clean. The director’s already in the middle of a breakdown, the exec in charge is updating his resume… This movie is looking to be a hundred million dollar mistake.”
I slumped back against the wall, numb. “What about me?”
Josh paused, too long. “I’m not going to lie, it doesn’t look good for you. They’ve already hit pause on any talks of a sequel, maybe even moving it from a summer release earlier in Spring when there’s less competition. I’m making calls now about a couple of scripts, but people are backing off, they want to see how this one plays out before they hire you for anything else.”
In an instant, my visions of stardom shattered into pieces. No red carpet, no cheering crowds. No magazine covers, and getting my pick of scripts. But worse than that, worse than anything, was the realization that this was on me.
I fucked it up. I wasn’t good enough.
Maybe I never will be.
“Blake?”
Zoey’s voice drags me back to this moment. She’s still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking too beautiful and good to be dealing with a wreck like me.
What if he went to drown his sorrows with Lila?
I try to ignore my insecurities, but there’s no avoiding the truth: he doesn’t want to see me. Whatever he’s going through, he’s determined to do it alone.
Reluctantly, I grab my coat and head for the door. Nothing about tonight has played out the way I imagined. I pictured us snuggling together on the couch—and then retreating to his bedroom to pick up where we left off in the city. Instead, I’m driving home alone, feeling more anxious about our relationship than ever before.
It starts raining even before I put the key in the ignition, a gentle smatter of raindrops on the windscreen. Then, suddenly, the skies open in a torrential downpour. I drive slow, the headlights beaming through the dark, glad I only have a mile to go to the B&B. When I pull up outside the cottage, I pause in the driver’s seat, waiting for the rain to let up.
Then I see someone in the beam from my headlights, huddled under the awning by the front door, drenched through.
It’s Blake.
16.
Blake
Dammit, I shouldn’t have come here, but I couldn’t think what else to do.
Everything is crumbling down around me, everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve. My hopes and dreams destroyed with one single phone call, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do next. I hate that I yelled at Zoey, that I pushed her away. I didn’t want her to see me at my worst, I couldn’t bear to reveal the mess that I really am, but now I’m here, standing drenched on her doorstep.
A failure.
“Blake?” Zoey races through the rain from her car. “What are you doing here? You’re soaked through!”
Her blonde hair is plastered wet to her head and her beautiful blue eyes are full of concern for me. I feel an ache in my chest. I shouldn’t be here, dragging her down with my bullshit. I shouldn’t be burdening her with my problems.
“I should go—” I turn away, already regretting showing up at all.
“No!” Zoey quickly unlocks the front door and pulls me inside the B&B. It’s dark, just a lamp in the hallway, and total silence around. “Shh,” she says quickly. “Don’t wake the others.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, regret slamming me hard. I’m still screwing this up, even trying to make it right. “I shouldn’t have come. I just needed to see you, I’m sorry—”
“It’s OK.” Zoey blinks at me, confusion in her eyes. “Come on, you need to get warm.”
She leads me up the old wooden staircase and down the hall to her room. I catch her hand, but Zoey gasps, clutching it. “You’re freezing,” she says, closing the door behind us. She grabs a blanket from the bed and wraps it around my wet shoulders. “How long were you out there? You could have caught a chill. Blake, you can’t get sick, not with the shooting schedule for next week—”
“Fuck the shooting schedule.” I throw the blanket down, that desperate anger rearing up in my chest. “It doesn’t matter what I do now, the movie’s screwed, just having me in the lead.”
“You know that’s not true,” Zoey protests.
I exhale, sinking down on the bed. “But it is.”
I look up at Zoey, wracked with guilt and self-loathing. “I let them down, I let them all down. The studio, the director, my management… They took a chance on me, and I fucked up, and now everyone has to pay the price.”
I bury my head in my hands, just imagining their reactions back in Hollywood. I was so excited to hear how the screening went, I left messages with my agent Josh all day. I was expecting rave reviews, everyone to tell me how great I was.
I wasn’t prepared for what he said.
“It’s…got some problems,” Josh told me reluctantly, when he finally returned my calls. “They’re going to kick it around, think about re-shoots, or going back for a new edit.”
The truth smashed through me. Josh usually buries his bad news in five layers of sugar-coated bullshit. For him to give it to me straight like this, it must be bad.
“What kind of problems?” I demanded, panicking. “Is this just stuff with the story, or pacing, or…?”
Josh sighed. “The whole thing’s a mess, nobody’s getting out of this with their reputation squeaky clean. The director’s already in the middle of a breakdown, the exec in charge is updating his resume… This movie is looking to be a hundred million dollar mistake.”
I slumped back against the wall, numb. “What about me?”
Josh paused, too long. “I’m not going to lie, it doesn’t look good for you. They’ve already hit pause on any talks of a sequel, maybe even moving it from a summer release earlier in Spring when there’s less competition. I’m making calls now about a couple of scripts, but people are backing off, they want to see how this one plays out before they hire you for anything else.”
In an instant, my visions of stardom shattered into pieces. No red carpet, no cheering crowds. No magazine covers, and getting my pick of scripts. But worse than that, worse than anything, was the realization that this was on me.
I fucked it up. I wasn’t good enough.
Maybe I never will be.
“Blake?”
Zoey’s voice drags me back to this moment. She’s still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking too beautiful and good to be dealing with a wreck like me.
