And that meant no more acting in real life. No more confusing lying for acting. No more mixing up reality and fiction and trying to create a persona that didn’t exist.
From here on out, all my acting would be done on the stage. And off-stage…
Well, that was something I’d have to work out on my own. Figuring out how to be me without being ‘on’ all the time was something I needed to untangle by myself.
“Here’s the thing,” I said when Simone led me into her bedroom, which was a veritable shrine to the film industry. Posters from an eclectic array of films covered her walls. “You were right about what I need to work on with my acting,” I said when she shut the door behind me. “I’m sorry I bit your head off.”
She smiled. “That’s okay.”
“I was hoping that maybe…” I cleared my throat. “I’ve been looking for an acting coach and it turns out they are really expensive, so I thought maybe…” I arched my brows. “Would you be up for helping me?”
She blinked in surprise. “Umm…”
“I’ll pay you,” I add quickly. “I don’t have a lot, but I can definitely pay you for your time.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. I could tell she was thinking it over as she nibbled on her lower lip. “I’m not an expert…”
“You could have fooled me,” I joked. “And I don’t need someone who’s studied the Meisner technique. I just need someone who understands art and the creative process which…” I looked around at the film posters and the homemade art that dotted the empty spaces in between. “You clearly fit the bill.”
“I…” She bit her lip again. “I’ll try my best?”
I grinned and gave her an impulsive hug that would have made Hannah-the-hugger proud. “That’s all I can ask.”
“When do you want to start?” she asked.
We worked out a schedule and then her dad poked his head in, announcing it was dinner time, which meant it was time for me to head over to Hannah’s.
My mom’s new guy was coming to our place for dinner and I had no desire to join in on the new couple’s alone time. Besides, if I wanted to get my mom out of my head, I had to get away from my mom.
Maybe one day I’d be in a place where her words didn’t hurt me, where her fears didn’t leak into my own…but this was not that day.
Besides, Hannah was helping me finalize the last of the details before the big event tomorrow and I needed all the distraction I could get. Also, I needed her help for a whole other event that I hadn’t actually told her about yet…
A little while later Hannah was peering into the brown paper bag as if she’d never seen hair dye before. Maybe she hadn’t. This girl was as low-maintenance as they came. “You want me to…dye your hair?”
I nodded. “I need your help.”
“But you always do it yourself.”
I snatched the bag back. “Yes, well, this time I need moral support.”
She blinked rapidly in incomprehension. “But it’s…brown.”
I met her gaze evenly. “It is.”
“But you never go brown. That’s your—”
“Natural hair color, yes, I know,” I said, with more than a hint of sarcasm. “I’m trying something new.”
She arched her brows. “What’s that?”
I drew in a deep breath. “Being myself.”
Her eyes went so wide it looked painful. “That’s…that’s…”
And we were hugging again. I loved Hannah and Hannah loved hugs. That’s just the way it was.
“That’s so great,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.
“Yeah, well…”
She drew back as I trailed off, weirdly embarrassed because...well, just because. This was weird to talk about.
“What prompted this?” she asked as she reached for the bag again.
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Lie. I could hear Jax’s annoying accusation in my head.
“Is it super obvious when I’m lying?” I asked.
Hannah pursed her lips and shook her head. “Are you kidding? You are the queen of fibs and you know it.”
“You make it sound like I’m a compulsive liar.”
Hannah laughed as she pulled out the dye and started reading the back. “You’re a compulsive actor, there’s a difference.”
She was quoting me back to me—it was something I’d said a lot over the years. But now I was realizing how wrong I was. Acting was only acting when I was on stage. In real life? It was just lying. Faking.
It was another form of hiding.
“So basically, I’m a compulsive liar,” I muttered.
She peered up at me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I’m just…I’m tired.”
She continued to watch me, waiting for me to continue.
“Actually, I’m exhausted. Being on all the time is tiring.”
She shifted. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Jax, would it?”
I tensed at the mention of his name. “No, of course not.”
Lie. Ugh, he wouldn’t get out of my head.
I huffed. “Okay, maybe. A little bit. I mean, what he said about me shutting people out…” I looked at my friend. “He’s kind of right.”
Hannah didn’t argue.
“And I’m tired of being scared. Tired of worrying about turning out like my mom. Tired of trying to make her happy and play the part everyone else has cast me in.” I gave her a small smile. “I’m tired of being typecast.”
She laughed softly at my attempt at a joke.
“You know sometimes I think that maybe…” I swallowed the lump that was choking me. “I think sometimes I’m performing all the time because I want to be loved, you know? I want approval. I want people to like me.”
Hannah nodded, her eyes soft with sympathy. “I do know.”
“I want to be loved, but what’s the point if I’m not loved for who I am…whoever that is.” I finished with a mutter as I shook my head, disgusted with myself for being so emotional.
If Jax didn’t want drama then he’d do best to stay far away from me.
Ugh,
