She no longer needs me—Mac Turtledove’s waiting.
It’s enough to satisfy Ezer too.
Because just after that, the director shouts, “Cut—that’s a wrap!”
Ezer shakes his head, then shows me the door.
57 Minutes and 42 Seconds till Christmas
REALITY REFUGEE
For someone who has spent the last five days being chased by screaming fans, it feels kinda strange to transition into a social pariah in just a matter of seconds. Though I guess I better get used to it. If I don’t get my hands on that ticket, this is how I’ll live out my days, without a single person willing to speak to me.
Tinsley hates me for humiliating her on TV.
My family hates me for calling them embarrassing and plastic, but most of all for the lifestyle they’ll lose because of my choices.
And when I tried to apologize to Plum, her mom stood in my way and told me she quit.
“You surprise me, kid.” Ezer walks behind me, practically clipping my heels. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
I toss my mike and head for the door, determined to find my way to the trolley stop and try pleading my case with the driver. It’s the only hope I have left. “I guess it’s like you once said,” I tell him. “Nothing wrong with knowing your limits. I guess I discovered mine.”
“You know you just committed celebrity suicide, right? By tomorrow morning every girl in America—heck, the whole world—will have turned against you. You cleared the decks for Mac to step in and take your place. And I gotta admit, the kid’s got charisma. Won’t be long before they forget about Ninsley and start screaming for Macsley.”
His words stop me cold.
I realize the one thing I’ve missed all along, even though it was sitting right smack in front of me.
Ezer is the only one here who’s exactly the same as he was back in Greentree.
“You’re in on it, aren’t you?” I have no way to explain it or prove it, but I know that I’m right. “You’ve known the whole time.”
“What I know, kid, is you’ve killed your career and I no longer represent you. After the stunt you just pulled, won’t be long before all your other deals drop you as well. You’ll be lucky if you can scrape together enough dough to rent a small apartment somewhere. And you better make sure they take pets, since you put your family’s financial well-being at risk, which means they’ll be living with you. You’ll be broke in no time—and with a face as recognizable as yours, good luck blending into the world. The one thing that always bothered you—the lack of privacy—will never be yours. People know who you are. They watched your meltdown unfold on TV. From this moment on there’s nowhere to hide.”
It’s all true.
Every single word.
Which is why it’s imperative for me to make one final plea.
“None of this has to happen,” I say. “Just give me that ticket and you can pretend we never met.”
He stands before me, as impenetrable as a brick wall, his henchmen watching from a few feet away, in case I’m dumb enough to try to jump him or something.
“Why won’t you help me?” I ask, refusing to give up so easily.
“I did help you.” He slaps me hard on the back. “I gave you a life most people can only dream of, and this is how you repay me. Good luck, Nick. You’re gonna need it.” He shuts the double doors firmly between us, and from the corner of my eye I see Dougall making his way down the drive.
“Hey!” I rush to catch up. “Hey—Dougall!” I call, wanting to apologize for what I said on TV. Just because it’s true doesn’t make it okay to share with the world. “Dougall?”
I quicken my pace, only to watch as he quickens his as well. Reaching the end of the drive well before me, he slips through the electronic gate just as it’s closing and laughs when it slams shut in my face.
And that’s when it hits me.
I had it all wrong.
Ezer and Tinsley didn’t steal the ticket.
They just used my story and pending meltdown to reframe the show, to make room for Mac.
And though my family had plenty of motive, they looked way too clueless to be involved either.
But Dougall—
Dougall was alone in my room when he returned the Xbox earlier today. He could have overheard me by the pool spilling my guts to Tinsley.
Dougall’s entire life, his whole identity, revolves around being my friend.
If I return to Greentree, where does that leave him?
Also, what was that he said just after wishing me a happy birthday? Something about how he was glad to see that I’d made it?
As if there was any doubt that I would? As if I’ve ever failed to show up?
He expected me to run.
All the while knowing I wouldn’t get very far.