Cora’s on her phone, picking at her breakfast, and flipping through a script when we enter the trailer. Her gaze lifts to ours with a smile, and she holds up one finger. “Uh huh. Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Have them send it over by this weekend, otherwise it’s a no for me.” The actress is one of the hardest working people I’ve come to know on set. She’s different from the way the tabloids paint her—though I suspect that’s the same for most celebrities. She’s down-to-earth and treats everyone with respect, from the sound guys to the craft table attendants. Getting her ready for a day of filming is one of my favorite parts of this job.
Though we keep it mostly professional, De’Shaun and I talk freely with her as if she’s one of our best friends. I secretly think she loves us more than anyone else on set—and not just because we hold the power to make her look good.
“Have you talked to him?” De’Shaun says quietly and lifts his brow with a pointed stare as he plugs in a curling wand.
I busy myself laying out the brushes I’ll need. Doubt resurfaces, stronger than a rolling tide, and for the hundredth time since I left Jude’s condo, I question whether I did the right thing. Should I have given him a chance to explain? Or would I have just bought more of his lies? I can’t hide or pretend I don’t know what De’Shaun means. He was there. “You know I haven’t.” Defensiveness prickles up my spine. My gaze darts over to Cora, but she’s still on the phone.
“Well, you know what I think, sis.” De’Shaun studies his reflection in the mirror of our work station. He thinks I need closure. That I won’t be able to move on until I talk things out with Jude, this time when I’m not raw and reactive. De’Shaun pulls out a pick and works through his hair, messing with it even though he already looks good.
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough. Not yet.” It’s the truth. In my mind, I’ve gone over every conversation and everything we did, searching for a sign. Something I missed. Some warning signal that Jude was only pretending to be someone else with me. But each time, I come up short. I don’t think anyone’s that good of a liar. What we shared felt real. I let my guard down, sharing myself with him in the most authentic way because he was doing the same. Or so I thought. I might still think about Jude too much, but I’m in a solid place right now. I work. I eat. I smile and laugh. I only cry when watching old episodes of Grey’s. I’m scared inviting Jude back into my life, even for a conversation, will unravel all of that.
“Don’t give me your excuses.” De’Shaun rolls his eyes at my reflection in the mirror. “It’s your life. Do what you want. But don’t waste it hung up on someone you won’t even talk to. There comes a time when you gotta make a choice. A crossroads. Go right or left. Take the red pill or the blue. It does no good sitting your ass down in some self-induced purgatory, punishing yourself for what? Trusting? Loving? You deserve to have more good in your life. You’re too beautiful. Too smart. Too good of a human. Don’t let this experience brand your heart in such a way that you just give up. There’s a lotta love to show this world, honey. You aren’t done yet.”
He’s right. Damn it. Tears well in my eyes and I blink them back.
“Wait, are you two talking about ‘Ask Ida?’” Cora walks over and sets her phone, water, and a stack of screenplay sheets on the counter near my makeup. Her eyes are bright with interest. “I love ‘Ask Ida!’”
De’Shaun pats the chair. “Sit, baby doll.”
“What’s ‘Ask Ida?’” I say, desperate to change the subject. We talk about a lot of things during hair and makeup, but my relationship woes are not one of them. Also, my eyeliner is on point today. I have no intention of ruining it with tears.
“Oh, my God.” Cora settles back in her chair. “You have to follow her. It started as an advice column for some little local paper in New York City, but then she started an Insta and Twitter, and blew up. Like, I could spend hours just from the comments alone.”
“I’ll have to check it out.” I unscrew the cap on the moisturizer and apply it to her skin.
“People ask questions about love and all sorts of stuff, and her advice is like gold,” she says. I finish smoothing out her skin. De’Shaun brushes out her hair. It’s a choreographed dance we’ve perfected, talking, working, and not getting in each other’s way.
Cora laughs lightly. “I don’t even know why I waste my time on a shrink anymore.”
“Now, this I need to see.” De’Shaun laughs.
Cora leans forward and grabs her cell as I reach for the foundation. “Oh, my God. I read one last night and it literally hit me in the feels.” She taps on the screen and starts scrolling. “He fucked up. I mean, don’t they all? But his desperation to get her back. God, it was so heartfelt. The stuff of epic love stories.” She holds the screen so she’s still able to read while I apply the base of her foundation. “Dear Ida, I can’t believe I’ve resorted to an online advice column but I’m desperate for help. My story isn’t so different from everyone else’s. I did some things to help out a friend. Not illegal things, but stuff I knew she wouldn’t agree to if she knew I was behind it. This friend is one of those friends I wanted to sleep with from the second my eyes saw her. But she’s not
