Page 6 of The Ending is the Best Part
My stomach does a somersault.This is everything I dreamed of.I’m going to write the season finale?I can barely believe it.I feel my face start to break out in an enormous grin, a yelp of excitement rising in my throat.I’m just starting to consider the implications – Xander will be complete a nightmare to work withandannoyingly I’ll have to split the achievement with him – when he raises his pointer finger, stopping me in my tracks.
‘But, whoever she thinks does a better job, she’ll put their name first and give them the lead screenwriter credit.The season finale ofClaim to Power, watched by twenty million people around the world…’ He looks down at his lap, that wicked grin pulling at the corners of his lips.‘Written by Xander Woods –withYara Aslan.You can see it, right?’
And all that rising energy comes crashing down.
What.The.Hell.He cannot be serious.This is the biggest moment of my career – everything I’ve ever pushed for.I don’t just have toworkwith my rival, but I have to share the credit with him.Worse than that, he wants to fight me for top billing?
I bury my head in my hands.How on earth are we going to make this work?
Chapter Three
Six Weeks Left
When I get home to my tiny studio, the finale – and Xander – is all I can think about.That writer’s credit was supposed to be mine and mine alone!I’ve put constant hours in after work to make sure that if an opportunity like this ever came about then it would be handed to me, because I would have earned it.I don’t want to share.Do I sound like a petulant child right now?Yes.But what better way to deal with my frustration than to order Turkish takeaway and rewatch my favourite show.Me, my steaming hot lahmacun and mixed grill platter, with an episode ofThe Vampire Diaries. This is just what I need.To decompress andthink.
In the years I’ve worked with Xander, it’s not like we never had to collaborate, but it’s just usually in a bigger group.We’ve never worked one-to-one before.I’m not sure how I’m feeling.Selfishly, I’m annoyed.However, I have to admit that from Meagan’s perspective this is a genius move.He’s always the logical, more practical one.Me?I bring the creative, romantic side to the storytelling.Put those things together and it should be a recipe for success… right?At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
As I sit here on the cold floor of my bedroom, I feel homesick.I want my family around me to talk through this dilemma.While I adore living in the city, I hate being away from them.If I think about it too long, this large hole of loneliness opens up inside me and threatens to swallow me whole.But I won’t let it.I can’t.The second those thoughts start to creep in it’s very easy to get lost in them and begin to think of the what-ifs of life.What if I never moved to London to pursue my dreams?What if I had stayed back home in Leeds with my family and… Theo?
When I first met Theo during my last year of university, I thought I’d hit the jackpot.Secretly, I always thought I’d meet the love of my life at uni, and apparently here he was, arriving at the eleventh hour.He was handsome and had the kindest smile.I’d never been in a proper relationship before and it was so fun – for a while.But he didn’t understand my writing, and never read a book I recommended, let alone a word that I wrote.When I told him it was my dream to become a professional screenwriter, he laughed and, just like my parents, thought it was time I grew up and got a ‘real’ job.I suppose for him, a tech-head who wanted to change the world with computers, what I wanted seemed pretty trivial, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when he started seeing Claire behind my back.
I quickly shake that feeling of despair and I pick my phone up and scroll through TikTok to distract myself.I save a few reading recommendations from my favourite BookTokers.I’m desperate to read the new Ali Hazelwood.Then I open Instagram.Of course, the first picture that comes up is of Xander.
At first, I’m affronted.Xander proudly boasts that he’s above all social media.But then I remember that his sister Eloise randomly followed me a few months ago.He has his arm round her, but he doesn’t look his usual, all-too-at-ease self.There’s an awkwardness in how they stand next to each other, almost like they’re strangers.Call it curiosity but I go on her page and begin to flick through the posts, scanning Eloise’s pictures of brunches and family get-togethers for another glance of Xander.Given how often she posts, there aren’t as many of him as I would have thought.
I have to scroll down really far until I find some photos of skiing holidays in the Alps from when they were younger.All of the photos have an artificial grain on them, so the people look waxy and hazy.There’s a photo of a teenage Xander with a dog filter over his face, a pair of skis hoisted over his shoulder.God, I would’ve killed for holidays like that growing up.Not that I’m not grateful for the holidays I did go on – I loved my family trips to Blackpool and Cornwall – but it was a huge treat so, whenever we went, I made sure to savour every moment.I doubt Xander did the same.
Okay, maybe that’s not fair.I didn’t know him then.I admit I have aslightresentment towards Xander.I mean he literally had everything spoon-fed to him from the day he came into this world.He’d never admit it but I’m pretty sure that’s how he got into the industry.He’ll have known someone or his dad is probably best mates with the show’s creators or something.I respect the hustle, but it’s so unfair when most of us have to fight tooth and nail for a shot just because we don’t know the right people.And if he’s going to be a nepo baby, he could be a little less moody about it.
I can’t help but think how completely different our backgrounds are.It was a miracle my mum, a stubborn Turkish woman, allowed me to study creative writing at university.When I broke the news that I would not be applying for law like she thought, it was like WW3 had broken out in my parents’ living room.
‘Mum, I know you wanted me to go for a more… traditional route.But I’ve decided to do creative writing.’ I remember squinting my eyes to brace myself for their reaction.A heartbroken look engulfed my mum’s face.That’s when the shouting and hysterics began.My dad just agrees with anything Mum says – which is testament to their love, having been together for over thirty years – but sometimes I wish he’d just stick up for me.The only sane person left in the room was my older sister Elif.
‘Give it a rest, Mum, she was born for this.You should read Yara’s work, she’s really talented.’ Elif’s words had warmed me, giving me some reassurance that I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life.At that, Mum had started running after us with a wooden spoon around the house like we were five-year-olds again.She barely spoke to me in the months before I left for university.In the years since, my relationship with my parents has healed towards an almost happy equilibrium.They don’t understand what I do, and aren’t quiet about how they wish I would pursue something else, but they see that I can feed and house myself, so in that sense they’re content.They just don’t ask about my career and I put aside how much I wish they would.
Blinking away my thoughts, I quickly exit the app and dial my best friends for some serious TLC.I jump slightly at my unkempt image on the phone.My olive skin could definitely do with some sun – you don’t get much of a tan staring at your laptop.My hazel eyes stare back at me as I brush strands of my curly hair from my face, trying to look more presentable.It rings for a few seconds before Maddie’s face pops up on the screen.She’s always the first person to arrive at any event and is one of the most organised people I know.When I first moved to the city, I didn’t know a single person, which was onlyslightlysoul-crushing.I quickly learned that making friends as an adult, especially in new places, can be extremely difficult.
I spent the first few weeks here lolling about while getting to know my new home and settling into the job.I spent my evenings doomscrolling and hatching plans on how to make friends that I never followed through on.Soon, I felt like I was going to rip my hair out from boredom.
That was, until one day I decided to go to a book club.I wasn’t really expecting much, to be honest.I’d seen a video on BookTok about it being held at a big, fancy library in the City, and, even though it’s not my usual vibe, I put my big girl pants on and decided to bite the bullet.I was a nervous, sweaty mess but I made sure to get there super early.The organisers had reserved this expansive room that looked like it belonged in a grand palace.I immediately fell in love with the place.I could imagine myself coming here and cosying up in the grey chair by the window to read my book.As my eyes swept across the room, my gaze settled on the large round table, which had only one other person sitting there.I tried to hide my surprise because I’d arrived an hour before the start time out of social awkwardness and my aforementioned complete lack of a social life.I knew I was weird, but what kind of complete weirdo would arrive even earlier than me?I attempted to hide my shock and put a smile on my face as I approached.The girl was also in her mid-twenties, with long auburn hair and a freckled face.
‘Hi!I’m Maddie,’ she said with such enthusiasm it was hard not to match her energy.
‘Hey, I’m Yara,’ I replied with slight apprehension.‘Are you here for the book club?’
‘Oh, yes!I just got here really early, this is one of my favourite rooms in the whole building, so it’s nice to get some alone time here before everyone else arrives.’ It was then that I spotted the book lying on the table.The Seven Year Slip. Huh, she had good taste.From that point on we were really good friends, even best friends.
The second ping comes through and Amira’s gorgeous face lights up the screen.I like to think that fate brought Amira and me together.And by fate, I mean my own clumsiness.It was a freezing winter’s day shortly after I moved to the city when I’d stopped by Lunar Books.It’s one of those amazing bookshops with a plump cat and a café.Although it looks tiny from the outside, that’s deceiving.It’s like the Tardis, cavernous on the inside.I had chai latte to heat me from the extremely cold weather outside.Unfortunately, I must have been too excited, because I turned round with my steaming mug and immediately bumped into a girl with dark skin and curly brown hair.The drink exploded between us.Before I even had a chance to process, this poor girl, my victim in fact, starts apologising profusely over and over againto me.
‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry,’ she said, running to go grab a bunch of napkins.
She rushed back over, having retrieved the napkins, and she attempted to dry the both of us.But these were the smallest napkins I’d ever seen and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that these measly heart-shaped scraps were not going do anything to clean either of us.
‘Please don’t be sorry, it’s totally my fault!’ I said.Because yes, it was my fault.
‘No, I should have been looking where I was going!Let me make it up to you, maybe you would let me buy you another drink?’ she said, with such a sad expression on her face.
‘No, no please, let me buyyoua drink.’
