Page 49 of Filthy Rich

I’ve hoped all those things might be true.

But at the end of the day, I know people. I know people in a way most people never do. I’ve peeked underneath the curtain of humanity and seen that we’re all pretty lousy underneath our shiny and bright veneers. We all have our most base desires, and we all have our essential flaws, and no matter how hard we try, we all let down the people we love at some point. Usually we let them down regularly. Right now, I really want to be a good person—I want to be what I thought the Fansees were.

I feel like Octavia deserves someone shiny and bright and good.

She’s the shiniest, brightest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.

But I’m not the right person for her, even if I can fool her for a little while. After all, my dad’s in prison for theft and my foster father’s the kind of person who gets caught in bed with a woman who’s most decidedly not his wife Seren.

In the photos, Dave’s smiling like it’s Christmas morning, and every time I see them, I want to punch him until his face caves in.

Which is why I’m flipping through the screenshots I took of the photos on my phone. I’m trying to prepare for the worst. In the next few days, something’s going to happen. I can feel it. Either Octavia’s going to realize that I suck and dump me, or I’m going to find out something about her that breaks my heart. It’s important that I prepare myself.

No matter how great someone seems, they’re either being lied to, like Seren, or they’re doing the lying, like Dave. When you know that in advance, it doesn’t hurt as hard when the disappointment slaps you in the face.

At first, Dad’s pictures hurt me.

It felt like he was attacking me and the family I’d come to see as my own. But with a little time, I realized that he was actually trying to help me. The Fansees weren’t the paragons I thought. They were just like the rest of us, making mistakes, hurting people, and covering up their lies. I was better off not idolizing anyone and trusting my dad, because then I’d be able to take whatever I could so no one else took anything from me.

Even from prison, Dad was trying to protect me.

That’s why, when Octavia said the Fansees’ way was the better way. . .I wished I could believe it. I want to believe in a world like the one she sees. Even with all the people saying ugly things about one of the most beautiful souls I’ve seen, she believes in that world.

But I know it doesn’t exist.

I have Dad to thank for that, and Dave too, I guess.

When I first found out, I hated him, but I came to understand that he’s just a normal guy. Every normal guy in the world falls short. They all let their families down. They all ruin things. The key’s not appreciating only perfect people. It’s assuming that everyone’s imperfect and seeing their good things so the bad won’t wreck you when you uncover it.

Sometimes I momentarily forget that everyone’s flawed.

I always remind myself the same way. After looking at the bad photos of Dave, I swipe through more recent ones, marveling at the disconnect between the man in these bright and cheery photos with his arm around Seren and the cheating philanderer I know him to be.

I only have time to work on these reminders because the scene that was supposed to be filmed this morning was canceled. Since coming to terms with Morgan, they’re now working furiously to find a replacement for Precious Patty that America won’t hate.

I wouldn’t like to be Patty’s agent right now.

But I kind of love that Morgan lady. What kind of person is able to, with the posting of just a few videos, effect the total and complete annihilation of someone else’s career? I mean, Morgan burned it to the ground as effectively as if she’d lit a funeral pyre, and no one I’ve met deserved it more.

A lot of people may be awful about Octavia’s face, but none of them are supposed to be America’s little darling. America’s darling shouldn’t be the jealous, rude, petty person Patty has proven herself to be.

Good riddance.

I do sort of wish that Octavia had jumped at the chance to be my costar, but she clearly hated the idea. I’d never try to push her into something she didn’t want. Or at least, not unless it was really good for her in some way she didn’t understand.

When my phone bings, I swipe and see the text’s from Jane.

Get here in an hour. We have women for you to screen test.

I hate screen tests. It’s like doing a bunch of speed dates, but worse because everyone I’m force-dating’s a megalomaniac. I wish I could refuse any involvement and just make them pick someone—it’s not like there’s going to be a good choice—but it’s in my contract. Begrudgingly, I shower, brush my teeth, and then I finally go in.

So what if some of the people reading for the part have to wait?

Hopefully they’ll find someone who’s a little better than Patrice. I’m about to walk into the conference room when I get another text. It’s from Octavia.

Good luck today. I hear they’re re-casting. I hope it goes well.

You sure you don’t want to read for the role? I’d push for them to pick you.

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