“Why?” I rasp, swallowing painfully over the messy ball of emotion clogging my throat.
“Something weird happened overnight. The last few shots we filmed yesterday were corrupted, so the director called us in this morning to reshoot them. I tried to get out of it, but it’s not possible. We’re on a really tight schedule, and there are no other gaps to reshoot them. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m as devastated by this as you are.”
I can tell he’s upset, and it’s not like this is his fault. If he could get out of it, I know he would because he’s been looking forward to prom as much as I have. “I hate this. It’s so unfair,” I say.
“I know. The guys were giving me crap because I was on the verge of tears, but I’m really upset. I don’t want to miss tonight, and I would happily trade a limb if it meant I could be there. For years, I have dreamed of holding you in my arms all night at prom. I had booked a suite at Chateau Marmont as a surprise, and I was looking forward to ravishing your body all night long. I’m so sorry, Vivien, more than I can even say.”
“I don’t want to go without you, and I hate that prom is ruined for us, but this isn’t your fault, Reeve. There isn’t anything you can do, so don’t feel guilty.” I shrug, even though he can’t see me. “It is what it is.” My voice is dead, devoid of the excitement I woke up feeling.
The truth is, it’s not just about prom. I really need to see Reeve. To feel his arms around me. To have his mouth worship mine. To join our bodies and relive our connection in the most intimate of ways. I need to prove to myself that we truly are okay because the last few weeks have been hell on Earth.
Not only have trolls been targeting me online, spreading nasty lies and leaving disgusting comments on everything I post to the point where I have stopped posting anything, I’ve also been subjected to ongoing rumors, popping up daily on gossip sites, about Saffron and Reeve. Insiders on the set are allegedly reporting how their explosive on-screen chemistry has spilled over into their personal lives and they are hot for one another. Other reports claim he’s a free agent having dumped me after I cheated on him with one of his friends.
Reeve continues to tell me to ignore it. That it’s all par for the course, and that none of it is true, but it’s hard when I’m confronted with it all the time. Bitchy girls in school love taunting me with the rumors, stuffing copies of articles into my locker and leaving them pinned to the windshield of my car. But the pretend do-gooders are worse; those girls profess sympathy and offer their help while not so subtly sliding their digs in. And Marnie Gibson has been getting on my very last nerve, but I’m taking Mom’s advice and pretending she doesn’t exist, even though I’d love to take a baseball bat to her head.
I’ve tried not to labor the point during the brief daily calls with Reeve, because I don’t want to come across like the needy, clingy, scared girlfriend I’m turning into. If you had told me two months ago this is who I would become, I would have laughed in your face. I’m terrified because I know the worst is yet to come, and it already feels like I’m losing myself and like I’m losing Reeve.
“Viv. Baby, are you still there?”
“Yes. Sorry. I’m here,” I quietly confirm.
“I want you to go to prom. Please don’t stay at home alone. You know you can go with Alex and Audrey, and they will ensure you have a good time. And I need to see photos. I’ve been imagining seeing you in, and out of, that dress for months.”
I know he’s putting on a front for me, and I want to reassure him, but it’s challenging when I feel so empty inside. I genuinely don’t know if I have the strength to wear a mask and look like I’m having a great time when my heart is torn to shreds, and I’m missing the other half of my soul so badly it feels like I’m slipping into a dark abyss. I know how melodramatic I sound, but it’s the truth.
Reeve and I have always done everything together.
I don’t know how to exist without him.
I’m sure shrinks the world over would have a field day with that statement, but I’m not going to deny I feel helpless and directionless without him by my side. I didn’t realize I had become so dependent on him or that I would flounder so deeply without his guiding light. I know it’s not a healthy thing. That I need to exist separately from my relationship and assume my own identity and my own path in life.
Suddenly, I’m embarrassed by my own thoughts. I’m a talented, smart, independent, beautiful woman, and I don’t need my boyfriend to survive. Yes, I will miss him to the very depths of my soul tonight, but I can’t let his absence destroy another special night. I owe it to myself to go to prom and have the best possible night.
“I’ll send you pictures, and I’ll try my best to enjoy prom even if I’ll be missing you every second of every minute of the night.”
12
I plant a wide smile on my face as I pose beside Audrey while Alex snaps a few pics. Mom already took some at the house, which I sent to Reeve, and he replied with a quick message telling me I looked gorgeous and he was proud of me. I almost broke down in tears when the stunning corsage he ordered was delivered. He chose white roses decorated with pretty diamante stones encased with red ribbon. Little swatches of greenery add an extra bit of color, and it looks elegant on my wrist.
“You two are, hands down, the hottest babes in the room,” Alex says, sliding his cell in the pocket of his dress pants. “I’m no expert, but you did a fucking amazing job with the dresses, Viv. You are very talented.”
“Thanks, Alex.” I am really pleased with how both dresses turned out. I’m wearing a high-necked, sleeveless, figure-hugging, floor-length red dress. It’s a pretty classic design except for the few sequined strips—around my neck, edging my breasts, and running from the curve of my hips to the floor—and the open back which showcases my skin and a subtle hint of side boob. Audrey opted for a halter-neck gown in deep purple with a fitted top and full skirt. Alex is wearing a tie in the same color, and he and Audrey make a striking couple.
“I know you’ve decided to major in English rather than costume design, but I totally think you should set up a side business designing dresses,” Audrey suggests, taking a sip of the spiked punch.
I’m sticking to nonalcoholic cocktails because I want to avoid another drink-fueled disaster. “I’m considering doing a costume design course after I graduate with my degree,” I confess, but nothing is set in stone. I’m passionate about writing and dress designing, and while it makes sense that I’ll build a career in the movie industry, I’m still exploring all my options.
“Do you think they did all this for Reeve?” Alex waves his hands around the extravagant ballroom.
“Probably,” Audrey agrees.
Prom is being held in a top five-star hotel, and the prom committee spared no expense transforming the ballroom into a Hollywood-themed backdrop. It’s so cliché, and the irony isn’t lost on me either. Walking the red carpet, getting accosted by “paparazzi” as we arrived, being surrounded by movie props, a large golden Oscar trophy, and the myriad of classic movie posters framed around the walls all serve to remind me of my enemy. Because that’s who Hollywood represents to me tonight.