Unwritten
Page 43
“This is it,” I say, hollow. “The end of everything. I can say goodbye to my acting career right now.”
“You know that’s not true,” Zoey argues. “So what, you had a few shitty reviews. It’s early days!” she protests. “You don’t know who else will like it.”
“It doesn’t work that way. I wish it did.” I sag, feeling all my anger drain away. “But I don’t have my next big job booked, and failure, it spreads fast. The minute people start hearing about this mess, nobody will touch me for another role.”
“You don’t know it’s a mess,” Zoey insists. “This is one screening, and one room full of people. So they didn’t tell you what you want to hear, is that it? You’re just going to quit on them?”
My temper flares again. “This isn’t some horseback riding lesson,” I tell her, trying not to get mad. “You can’t reverse psychology me on this.”
I swallow back my harsh words. This isn’t her fault; she doesn’t understand. So I try to explain, make her see how this ruins everything.
“This was supposed to be it, my big break.” I get up, pacing the small room again. “All those years I spent going to auditions, all the classes and near-misses and callbacks. Everything I’ve been working for. I thought it was over now that I’d finally arrived, you know?”
Zoey sits on a chair at the bureau and watches me, waiting.
“And I was proud, too,” I add, with a twist of self-loathing. “That I was finally making something of myself. That I could pay my brothers back for all the help they’ve given me, that I could stand on my own two feet. Not just be Dex’s little brother, or crashing in Ash’s apartment. Be a man of my own. But now…”
I pause, seeing it all slip away from me.
“Now, nothing’s changed.” Zoey’s voice comes, strong and determined. She gets up and walks over, putting her hands on my chest. “You’re still a good actor, you’ve still worked hard. And your family realizes that, they’re all so proud of you.”
“But it’s not the same.” I shake my head and try to turn away, but she pulls me back.
“No, it’s not the same. Maybe your path to stardom doesn’t happen the way you imagined it, but that’s life. Not everything works out the way we plan.”
Something flickers in her eyes, a flash of sadness and regret, then Zoey looks away.
“You can hope and dream for something for years, and then get exactly what you always wanted, and it’s nothing like you thought it would be. Real life isn’t a dream, Blake. It’s a lot messier and more painful than that.”
Her arms drop. She stands back. And suddenly, through all my hurt and self-loathing, I realize: she’s not talking about me.
She’s talking about us.
Pain slams through me. I’ve fucked it up, I knew it. Now she’s seen the truth, what a mess I am, it’s all over between us. “I shouldn’t have come,” I mutter.
Zoey’s expression turns sad. “Fine,” she murmurs. “It’s late.”
We stand there, not moving. I know I should go, but my feet won’t move an inch.
I can’t walk away from her.
Zoey wraps her arms tight around her body, the way she always does when she’s feeling lost or alone. I know that about her. I know her. And I know that when she clenches her jaw and avoids my gaze, it’s because she’s trying not to cry.
I did this. How could I do this?
“It’s OK. If you want to go back to being friends. Just…tell me now,” Zoey adds quietly. “Please.”
The pained twist in her voice cuts me like a knife.
“Is that what you want?” I ask, numb. I should have known from the start this would never last. That’s what I told myself, all the time.
Everything falls apart. Good things never stay.
Care, even for a second, and it’ll be so much worse when it ends.
Zoey doesn’t reply.
“Is this what you want?” I demand again, hanging on by a thread. My whole life is falling apart, but suddenly the most important thing of all is this girl right here in front of me. This beautiful, brave, stubborn girl. I’ve been holding her at arm’s length for weeks now, I should be glad she’s giving me permission to go. But glad is the last thing I’m feeling, not in this chaos of anger and hurt and desperation.
She’s the only thing that matters. Only her.
“Answer me, Zoey,” I insist, trying to break through to her. “Dammit, I’ll go right now, just tell me, is this what you want?”
“No!”
Her cry cuts through the silence of the dimly lit room. Zoey turns back to me, her face blazing with emotion. “None of this is what I wanted! You push me away, then pull me back in. I don’t know what you want from me, how you even feel!”
I reel back, guilty.
“Zoey—”
“I can’t do this anymore,” she says, shaking her head. “I can’t be with someone who won’t let me in. This could be something real, we could be something real, but not until you admit to yourself that you want it. So go,” she says, pointing to the door. Tears are clouding her eyes, but she doesn’t waver. “Because if you can’t even be honest with yourself, then you’re never going to be the man I need. The man I always thought that you were.”
Zoey pauses, and I swear I see her heart breaking right in front of me.
“You know that’s not true,” Zoey argues. “So what, you had a few shitty reviews. It’s early days!” she protests. “You don’t know who else will like it.”
“It doesn’t work that way. I wish it did.” I sag, feeling all my anger drain away. “But I don’t have my next big job booked, and failure, it spreads fast. The minute people start hearing about this mess, nobody will touch me for another role.”
“You don’t know it’s a mess,” Zoey insists. “This is one screening, and one room full of people. So they didn’t tell you what you want to hear, is that it? You’re just going to quit on them?”
My temper flares again. “This isn’t some horseback riding lesson,” I tell her, trying not to get mad. “You can’t reverse psychology me on this.”
I swallow back my harsh words. This isn’t her fault; she doesn’t understand. So I try to explain, make her see how this ruins everything.
“This was supposed to be it, my big break.” I get up, pacing the small room again. “All those years I spent going to auditions, all the classes and near-misses and callbacks. Everything I’ve been working for. I thought it was over now that I’d finally arrived, you know?”
Zoey sits on a chair at the bureau and watches me, waiting.
“And I was proud, too,” I add, with a twist of self-loathing. “That I was finally making something of myself. That I could pay my brothers back for all the help they’ve given me, that I could stand on my own two feet. Not just be Dex’s little brother, or crashing in Ash’s apartment. Be a man of my own. But now…”
I pause, seeing it all slip away from me.
“Now, nothing’s changed.” Zoey’s voice comes, strong and determined. She gets up and walks over, putting her hands on my chest. “You’re still a good actor, you’ve still worked hard. And your family realizes that, they’re all so proud of you.”
“But it’s not the same.” I shake my head and try to turn away, but she pulls me back.
“No, it’s not the same. Maybe your path to stardom doesn’t happen the way you imagined it, but that’s life. Not everything works out the way we plan.”
Something flickers in her eyes, a flash of sadness and regret, then Zoey looks away.
“You can hope and dream for something for years, and then get exactly what you always wanted, and it’s nothing like you thought it would be. Real life isn’t a dream, Blake. It’s a lot messier and more painful than that.”
Her arms drop. She stands back. And suddenly, through all my hurt and self-loathing, I realize: she’s not talking about me.
She’s talking about us.
Pain slams through me. I’ve fucked it up, I knew it. Now she’s seen the truth, what a mess I am, it’s all over between us. “I shouldn’t have come,” I mutter.
Zoey’s expression turns sad. “Fine,” she murmurs. “It’s late.”
We stand there, not moving. I know I should go, but my feet won’t move an inch.
I can’t walk away from her.
Zoey wraps her arms tight around her body, the way she always does when she’s feeling lost or alone. I know that about her. I know her. And I know that when she clenches her jaw and avoids my gaze, it’s because she’s trying not to cry.
I did this. How could I do this?
“It’s OK. If you want to go back to being friends. Just…tell me now,” Zoey adds quietly. “Please.”
The pained twist in her voice cuts me like a knife.
“Is that what you want?” I ask, numb. I should have known from the start this would never last. That’s what I told myself, all the time.
Everything falls apart. Good things never stay.
Care, even for a second, and it’ll be so much worse when it ends.
Zoey doesn’t reply.
“Is this what you want?” I demand again, hanging on by a thread. My whole life is falling apart, but suddenly the most important thing of all is this girl right here in front of me. This beautiful, brave, stubborn girl. I’ve been holding her at arm’s length for weeks now, I should be glad she’s giving me permission to go. But glad is the last thing I’m feeling, not in this chaos of anger and hurt and desperation.
She’s the only thing that matters. Only her.
“Answer me, Zoey,” I insist, trying to break through to her. “Dammit, I’ll go right now, just tell me, is this what you want?”
“No!”
Her cry cuts through the silence of the dimly lit room. Zoey turns back to me, her face blazing with emotion. “None of this is what I wanted! You push me away, then pull me back in. I don’t know what you want from me, how you even feel!”
I reel back, guilty.
“Zoey—”
“I can’t do this anymore,” she says, shaking her head. “I can’t be with someone who won’t let me in. This could be something real, we could be something real, but not until you admit to yourself that you want it. So go,” she says, pointing to the door. Tears are clouding her eyes, but she doesn’t waver. “Because if you can’t even be honest with yourself, then you’re never going to be the man I need. The man I always thought that you were.”
Zoey pauses, and I swear I see her heart breaking right in front of me.
