Page 71 of Backed By You
Jack beams, his chest and ego inflating in tandem. “Of course. Catch up at the after-party, Cal?”
“We’ll see,” I say noncommittally. “Enjoy the screening.”
As he moves away, I mouth a silentthank youto Ellen, who gives me a subtle nod before guiding me toward the next interview.
The rest of the press line goes smoothly until we reach the final section, where fans have gathered behind barricades. My anxiety spikes again—the unpredictability of fan crowds has always been a trigger for me.
“You don’t have to stop,” Beau says quietly. “We can go straight inside.”
I shake my head. “No, these people have been waiting for hours. I can do this.”
I approach the barricade, smiling and signing the posters and photos thrust toward me. Most of the fans are respectful, excited to share their enthusiasm for my previous work.
“I lovedMidnight Echo,” one young woman gushes. “It inspired me to apply to film school!”
“That’s wonderful,” I tell her sincerely. “What’s your name?”
“Amber,” she says, beaming as I sign her DVD cover.
I’m just turning to the next fan when a commotion erupts farther down the line. A man vaults over the barricade, shoving past security and running straight toward me.
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach.
“Callie! Callie, I’ve been trying to reach you,” he shouts, his eyes wild.
Time slows. My body freezes. The memory of another man, another crowd, another moment when control was ripped awayfrom me surges to the surface. The panic rises, choking me, paralyzing my limbs.
But before I can fully process what’s happening, Beau is there.
In one fluid motion, he steps between me and the approaching man, his stance protective. The security team converges, but it’s Beau who makes first contact.
“That’s far enough,” he says, his voice calm but with an unmistakable authority that stops the man in his tracks.
I take a step closer to Beau, needing to touch him. To keep myself grounded. To breathe. My shaking hand finds his and the other rests on his lower back.Breathe.
“I just need to talk to her,” the man insists, trying to look around Beau to me. “I sent scripts—dozens of them. She needs to read them. We’re meant to work together!”
“Miss Ryan isn’t accepting unsolicited materials,” Beau replies evenly with an edge of heat that has my insides coiling. He doesn’t move an inch. “You need to step back.Now.”
The security team reaches us, flanking the man who continues to protest as they roughly escort him back behind the barricade. Beau turns to me, his back to the cameras, creating a small pocket of privacy in the chaos. “You’re all right, sweetheart,” he says quietly. “Breathe with me.”
I follow his lead, focusing on his steady gaze rather than the commotion around us. Ellen and Shea have rushed over, forming a protective circle around me. “We can go in through the side entrance,” Ellen suggests. “Skip the rest of the line.”
“No, I… Give me a minute,” I say, still holding Beau’s gaze like a lifeline. The panic is receding, slowly but surely. I inhale deeply. “I can do this.”
Concern flashes across Beau’s face. “Baby, you don’t have to—”
“I do,” I cut him off gently. I’m so tired of letting my success drown me rather than lift me. Fear is a tool, a means for survival. It’s not meant to control me. Not forever. “I need to.”
He studies me for a moment, then nods, understanding what this means to me. “I’m right here.”
I smile, small but genuine. “I know.”You’re the reason I’m still standing here.
The security team has removed the man, and the crowd is watching anxiously. The mood shifted. If I leave now, this incident becomes the story—not the film, not all my hard work, but my fear. Another headline about Callie Ryan’s breakdown.
I straighten my shoulders and turn to the crowd with a smile that costs me everything to maintain. “I’m so sorry about the interruption,” I say to the waiting fans. “Where were we?”
A collective breath of relief seems to pass through the crowd. I sign a few more autographs, pose for a couple of selfies, then allow Ellen to guide me toward the theater entrance where the studio executives wait.
