Page 15 of Becoming Cinderella

“No, no.” I hold up a finger to correct him. “Movie theater popcorn. There’s a difference. What about you Mr. Judgey? Yes, I can see that judgment.” This isn’t something I’ve read about online.

“Well, mine’s an actual answer. Lobster, crinkle cut chips,” he pauses and corrects himself, “sorry, french fries, Banoffee pie, and Buffalo wings.”

“Ew! All that in one meal?”

“What? It’s my last meal!”

“That’s disgusting. My turn. If you could go to space, but know you could never come back, would you?”

“Are you kidding? Absolutely! I’d be kicking it up in space with my new alien mates. That would be Ace.”

“There aren’t any movies in space. You wouldn’t be able to act. Well, unless you created some drama club with your new alien friends.”

“Truthfully you’re making this sound better and better.”

I try to mask my surprise at this confession. Does he not love his celebrity life?

“What does that mean? Are you not happy?” I can’t help ask.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do. But at times I just want to run away and go somewhere where no one knows my name. Sometimes I just need a break from everything.”

I get that. Maybe not to the same scale he does, but even on a high school level I can understand.

“Now,” Liam moves the conversation along. “If you were cursed by a witch, what would be the worst curse she could put on you?”

“Hmmm.” I stare at the wall above his head as I think. “I think being invisible, but it doesn’t come and go, I just always am. So I’m there, but no one can ever see me or hear me. That sounds incredibly lonely.”

“So, you’re an extrovert?”

“Depends on the situation really. I’m pretty borderline if that’s possible. Shy around people I don’t know, obnoxious around those I do. What about you? What would be your curse?”

“No taste buds.” He answers without hesitation.

I let out a surprised laugh, which makes the corners of his mouth curve up. “That would be awful. No gross death row meal for you to enjoy!”

“Exactly!” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles at me, a dimple forming in his left cheek. He doesn’t smile like this in his interviews, because I’m taken aback about his dimple. How long has he had a dimple? I thought I knew all there was to know about Liam Taylor, and there’s been a dimple in his left cheek this entire time! I can’t stop staring at it, and I’m probably crossing into creepy territory.

I stand up quickly. “That’s enough questions for now. Back to the box square.”

He groans but follows my lead, coming to stand across from me. It’s weird to have this front row seat to his insecurities. Liam stares at his feet again as soon as we link our hands.

Without a word I lift his head again to make him look at me. “Would putting it to some music help?”

“I don’t think so, but we can try.”

I cross the studio to plug my phone into a speaker. I search for a song, smiling as the first notes filter throughout the studio. Liam is practically buzzing with nerves as I walk back to him. I take his left hand in my right one.

“Hey, can I tell you a secret?” I say in a hushed voice like we’re at risk of being overheard.

Liam nods, pulling me closer as I place my left hand on his arm.

“Fake it till you make you.”

He seems disappointed by this, like he thought I was going to reveal something that would solve all his troubles.

“I’m serious. You probably have a lot of experience with that in your career, right? You just pretend you know what you’re doing and that you’ve got it all figured out, and you’ll get there. Now, ready?”

The music is already going so I count for him to start. As soon as I hit three, he steps forward, gently pushing me back with his hand. I smile as we make a couple of boxes without any issues.

---