Page 60 of The Actor: Harrison

“I know, but she’ll see it the same way. She was burned once and she won’t give me a second chance.” I feel the grip of anxiety tighten around my stomach.

This conversation is becoming more and more unsettling by the minute. I made a mistake coming here with them. I should have gone home and tried to think through a solution to this mess.

“Wrong. You don’t know how she’ll react because you won’t talk to her. She’s a grown woman, she’s smart and can understand your position. It’s not like you’re suggesting you kill someone. It’s a perfectly reasonable suggestion, what you’re asking!” Leonard insists and Aaron frowns, not grasping the entire situation.

“You don’t get it,” I mutter.

Leonard scoffs. “Believe me, I get it. You’re not willing to take a chance on talking, but you’ll choose the easier, cowardly way instead.”

“I don’t want to take any chances because I’m afraid of losing her. I love her and I don’t want to risk messing this up big time. That’s why I don’t want to talk to her. Because when she says no and walks away, there won’t be a second chance to make this right!” I blurt out, practically shouting.

There, I said it out loud. Something I didn’t want to admit even to myself. And instead of being relieved, I feel dread expanding in my stomach.

I’ve played it all wrong since the beginning. I’ve already made a mess and no matter what, I can’t fix that. I screwed up when I first put myself into this movie. And the speechless faces in front of me confirm what I’m feeling. There is no coming back from this.

“Have you seen this?” Harper puts a gossip magazine in front of my breakfast.

I frown. “It’s seven in the morning, when did you have time to go out and buy this?”

She shrugs. “Morning run. But don’t avoid my question. Have you seen this?” she insists, her eyebrow raised, almost scolding me.

“See what?” I force myself to take a good look at the magazine.

I’m not someone who reads these magazines, so it takes me a while to understand what’s going on with the cover. I usually skim over the screaming titles and blurred pictures of celebrities, but there’s something familiar about this one.

“Is that Aruba?” I frown, remembering the blissful weekend that ended two days ago.

“Is that the only thing you recognize?” Harper asks me, dumbfounded.

I squeeze my eyes and see in the blur of water and pink flamingos, Harrison kissing someone. My back is to the camera, but I recognize my raven hair. I mean, I was there, I know I was kissing him. I move my eyes to the top of the cover where a red title screamsNew Love for Harrison Bates!

“Are there more pictures in it?” I ask, resuming my breakfast.

She looks at me, open-mouthed. “Is that all you care about? Aren’t you curious about what the two-page article says?”

I shake my head. “Why should I? It’s just a bunch of bullshit anyway. Why should I read what they say? I know what’s happening in that picture. I was there.”

She grins. “Okay, whatever you say. But to answer your question, yes, there are other pictures and we can see your face. By the way, you look fantastic in that red bikini.”

I roll my eyes. “Is that the only thing you’re interested in?”

“You’re my friend! It’s my responsibility to make sure you look stunning, especially when you have paparazzi following you everywhere.” She scrunches her nose, like she doesn’t know how I can take this novelty in my life.

I knew this was a possibility when I started sleeping with Harrison. He’s world-famous, paparazzi have a field day with him. Does it bother me that I don’t have any privacy when I’m out with him? Yes and no. I mean, I can’t avoid them. They’re part of the reason why Harrison is so famous and I can’t complain about that. I’m benefitting from his fame—it creates a buzz around the movie. It’s a necessary evil I can’t avoid.

“I really don’t care what they say about me in those magazines. As long as they don’t come into our private spaces, I can’t avoid them, but I can choose not to read what they write about me.”

She sighs. “I wish I could be like you sometimes. I’d go over every article with a fine-tooth comb and cry over every flaw they point out.”

“You should really consider forgetting about them, especially if you want to be an actress. You will screw up your mental health if you keep reading this shit,” I point out.

Harper is the best friend I could have, but sometimes I want to shake her and make her understand that she’s worth a million. She shouldn’t let what other people think determine if she’s good enough for this job or not. I know she’s an amazing actress, no matter if the gossip mongers think she’s too skinny or muscular or whatever they’re pointing out in those pictures.

“What are you doing today?” she chirps like she always does when she wants to change the topic because she’s uncomfortable talking about it.

I can’t help the disgusted grimace forming on my face. “I have to go see Kevin to ask for more money.”

She looks horrified. “That’s horrible!”

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