Page 16 of The Fate Of Us

Now that she wasn’t clutched to me like a monkey; I could really absorb her outfit; agreen gingham dress with a frilly white collar, the pastel shades complementing her pale skin, and a pair of slip-on ballet flats glued to her feet. She really does live up to that southern belle label that the press tends to stick on her.

I laugh at her statement, acting like she’s crazy for thinking that, but I definitelycould. And now I’m wondering why I haven’t done just that. “Is anyone else here yet?” I ask, switching subjects.

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I came to get you. Nigel and Nate just got here, so I came tofind you.”

Two minutes later, we were all on set. All four of us. All with scripts in our handsand waiting idly for the director. I barely had time to take in the set, or sneak a glance at Nate, before a figure broke out from the smoky darkness, stepping out from behind a camera and marching towards us with one of the biggest smiles I think I’ve ever seen.

And then I said a silent thank you to whoever had a hand in making Sebastian George our director.

“Okayyy gang… How’re we this fine mornin’?” his southern twang that smotheredthose words melted in my ears, and his smile only grew once his eyes counted us.

I’d worked with Sebastian a few years ago, back when his face hadn’t knownwrinkles and when his hair was less salt and peppery and more pitch black. He was a sweetheart, a real people person who you could tell had a heart of pure gold lying beneath the flannel shirts. Seb always seemed to care about his actors before anything… and that thought was what had me release the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

If we had ended up with someone like Wesley Paige again, I think that would havebeen my final straw to give my career the funeral it deserved.

“All good over here, thank you, Seb,” Nigel says, that sweet old man’s smile gracinghis face and warming my heart.

Me, Amber and Nate all mumble a good morning at the same time.

“Well, I just wanted to say that I am so excited to get this shoot going. We’ll haveEleanor popping in throughout the entire shoot, just to make sure we’re doing this adaptation justice.” he scrubbed a hand over his stubble. “There’s still no word about who’ll be paying Harry’s brother, but the casting team have assured me that they’re in the final stages of doing just that. So for today, I was thinking we knocked out some easy scenes, mainly the ones with Anastasia and Alison, and Harry and his dad.” Seb let out a breath before clapping his hands together in a firm grip. “Is that okay with everyone?”

Our heads all nod in sync.

“Okay, great! Adaline and Amber,” he says, looking our way, his eyes ping-ponging betweenus. “We’ll get the family home scenes set up and start with you guys in around fifteen.”

Both Amber and I smile at each other before I feel my body whip backwards,Amber’s hand grabbing mine and tugging me back towards the corridor where the dressing rooms were. As I stabilise my legs, my eyes fall onto Nate, his green pools already fixed on me. It feels like the bottom of my stomach falls out when I watch him shift his eyes, as if my attention burned him.

I managed to shake off the uneasy feeling by the time Amber and I made it to herdressing room, only for it to swirl again once I took in the interior. It’s what I imagine walking into the Barbie Dream House would feel like… pink adorning every wall and ceiling and even the cracks in the corners.

My eyes dart from the pink cushions to the pink dressing gown hanging over thechair, bouncing from the pink desk accessories and the cherry on top, her pink snuggle chair that was tucked away in the corner of the room. I feel like I’m going to walk out of here and my vision will be permanently stained pink, like when you look into the sun for too long and suddenly the world is clouded by dark blue spots.

But I smile and squeak, “Love what you did with the space, Amb!”

“Right! It’s so much more me.” She also squeaks out, before jumping onto the futonand grabbing her script, which had her lines highlighted in yellow, oddly enough. “Wanna run through the house scene?”

“Yeah, sure.” My feet take me over to the chair, awkwardly squeezing into the spacebeside her. A tiny gasp escaping me when I realise that the chair could also spin. I eventually got as comfortable as I could, found the scene she wanted to practice in the script, and began reading my lines.

We barely made it through three lines before I grew itchy, the denim covering my legsgrowing tight and a jealous kind of wave washing over me.I recall how I felt when I read these lines for the first time, tucked away on my beanbag with the book in my hands, the rain thrashing against the window.

Writing like this, the kind that transports me to another world where I get to play thegirl living in it, I adore it. Words that make me envious that I’m not the girl that's walking around the small town, where it always feels like it’s sunset, and the skies are always beautiful.

It fills me with so much happiness it’s impossible to describe.

But it wasn’t long before that feeling morphed into something I didn’t know what tocall. It was part jealousy and part anger. I was angry at myself, for not trusting my gut, for not putting my writing out into the world. I was jealous that this author had, that she’d taken that leap.

It wasn’t as easy as asking myself whether I loved being the person who reads thewords or the one who gets to write them. In some twisted way, I wanted both.

Having both would mean I wouldn’t upset anyone, or hurt anyone’s feelings. I’d stillkeep the people, my parents, who gave me this life happy. At the same time, I’d be letting myself be the person I kept hidden away and in the shadow of the girl I was on camera…

Only in a perfect world could I have both.

But that world didn’t exist.

“Do you want to read for Nate, or shall I do it?” Amber’s question made my headbounce up towards her, the pounding of my heart was so loud I was convinced she could hear it.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” I said, a bit breathlessly.

“Or should I call him in?”

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