Page 68 of You and Me, For Real
“Have you ever thoughtyou’rethe one who makes the role successful? It’s not about how good the role is, but how well you play it? Even if you don’t get an ideal character or script, you’ll still stand out. Just like you did onMalibu Shores.”
“Yeah, for my shirtless torso.”
Heat crawls across my face. “That too.” A smile tips my lips. “But I’m saying,you.” I tap his chest with my finger. “Even if you’re not the lead in a film, they’ll come to watch you. I certainly will.”
“Really?” His voice is quiet.
“Yes. Really. Griffin, it’s not about what character you play. It’s who you are as a person. That’s what truly matters. Your fans love you, not for your roles, but because you’reyou. Anyone who knows you personally will attest to this.” My hand rests near his on the couch cushion, my fingers aching to reach for his.
His hand inches forward, a whispering touch on mine. “Thank you for that.”
I lick my lips. “You’re welcome.”
He drops his arm from the couch and exhales a heavy sigh. “I know my dad wants what’s best for me. But sometimes it feels like he’s using me to fulfill his own dream career.”
“I get that.”
His words cut straight to my core and peel away layers I’ve long since buried. Mom grew up dirt poor. She did virtually anything to gain wealth—including marrying a man almost twice her age. After he died, she used his remaining funds to gain fame and to secure a reality TV show, using her children as pawns.
“What about you, any siblings?”
I adjust my position. The pain in my ankle has decreased slightly, but it still pulsates with a throbbing heat. “Yeah, a sister.”
“Older or younger?”
“Older.”
“I would have loved a sibling growing up. Maybe it would have made acting—all the traveling, the private tutoring—less lonely.” He begins shutting the to-go boxes one by one. “I guess that’s why Luke is like my brother. We didn’t see each other all the time, but he was the closest thing I had to it.”
“That’s nice.”
He stacks the boxes on top of one another, carries them into the kitchen, and places them in the fridge. “What’s your sister like? Were you two close growing up?”
I think about us as kids…before everything went sideways. Before my mom’s success and her reality TV show. Before I truly became an outcast in my own family. We were friends. Playmates. For hours we’d play in the backyard, digging in our pretend garden and creating fairy houses.
“We were close in our younger years, but not so much as teens. We had different interests.” Hers was to make my mom happy, and mine was not. It makes her recent transformation all that much more surprising.
He returns from the fridge, holding an ice pack aloft. “You’re probably due for another round of this. Is this the same sister you didn’t want me to meet at the shelter? You know, the one you shoved me in a closet for?”
I bite my lower lip. “Yeah, again, sorry about that.”
He perches on the edge of the couch, holding my gaze. “I would’ve minded less if you had joined me.” He smirks.
I swat his chest. “Whatever.”
Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend.
“Care to explain more about that day?”
“It’s complicated.”
He looks at his empty forearm. “Looks like I have the time for it.”
“You don’t need to know about all my family drama tonight.”
He raises his eyebrows, and blinks, indicating his interest.
“Ugh. Okay. Fine.” Here goes nothing… “I was on a reality TV show calledBeing the Blakesfor over five years.” I grab a throw pillow and cover my face.
