Page 43 of Fangirl
We work on the fifth floor of the admin building in the gray, windowless reality of accounts payable and procurement spreadsheets.
The closest we get to the magic of filmmaking? Approving invoices for the catering department.
Even the meeting rooms in this building are never usedfor production-related business. The big-shot meetings happen in the city, in our much sleeker office there.
Not here. Not in the gray suburb where dreams go to die, buried under stacks of financial reports.
But still.
I let Jolene dream her coffee-spill love story with Jake Hollander.
No harm in indulging in a little fantasy. After all, I’ve been living in one myself for the past couple of months.
The whole thing is straight out of a rom-com—an online crush, a lucky meeting, the almost-instant connection. Who am I to judge Jolene for dreaming of bumping into Jake Hollander at Pinewood Studios when I’m here, daydreaming about a man I’ve never even met in person?
By the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m practically giddy despite the creeping fatigue and the telltale aches radiating through my joints. It’s a full-blown flare-up, and I know what that means: a weekend spent in bed resting, whether I like it or not.
I wince at the thought. This was the weekend I was supposed to go home and help Laura with wedding prep as part of my bridesmaid duties.
Neither of us really wanted this arrangement. She asked me out of obligation, and I said yes for the same reason.
It’s not that I dislike her. She’s nice. Perfect for my brother, really, but we have nothing in common. And yet, here we are, forcing a bond simply because it’s expected of us.
I smile wryly to myself. How very British.
As soon as I step onto the train platform, I pull out myphone. First, a flood of photos from Maya at her spa break with her mum, complete with captions like “Best day ever!” and “Can’t believe I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
And then—Eli.
His message pops up, right on cue, like it always does.
Eli: Morning/Afternoon, Fangirl. How was your day? Did you break any hearts?
I bite my lip, my heart giving a ridiculous little jolt.
He knows what time I leave the office. He remembers.
It’s such a small thing, barely significant, and yet—it means something.
Me: No… but mine was broken.
Eli: Prince Anlon?
I exhale, already feeling the tension in my chest begin to loosen.
Hegetsme. I smile down at my screen.
Me: Prince Anlon.
Eli: Tell me everything. Who do I need to fight?
I snort, shaking my head as I step onto the train, grabbing onto the overhead bar for balance.
Me: Just the entire Hollywood machine.
Eli: Oh, that’s easy. Give me a second to grab my sword.
I bite my lip, trying to suppress the stupid grin stretching across my face.
