But he put all those fears to rest when he planted a kiss on my cheek.
“Thanks,” he said.
I frowned. There was something so… transactional about the way he said that.
He sat up and started putting his clothes back on.
“You’re not going to stay?” I asked him.
He pulled his shirt back on, hiding his beautiful abs from view.
“No, why would I stay?” he sneered. “That’s not how this works.”
“I thought…” I said, wrapping the blankets around me. “I thought…”
“What, you thought we’d be together? That I’d let the rest of the cast see me walking out of your trailer in the morning?” he said.
Now that I thought of it, it was in fact, ridiculous. A movie star like Mason Vayne, hooking up with some nobody like me?
As he finished buttoning his pants, my mind was going back to the dark place. I was starting to feel like my old self again; that I was fat, talentless; a nobody from a nowhere place.
“Was it all fake?” I asked softly, my words hanging in the air.
Mason looked at me, his eyes back to their patented coldness. “Everything is fake. I’m an actor.”
He flashed that Cheshire Cat smile at me one more time, like he was the cat that got the cream. “I’m glad you enjoyed my performance.”
I felt like a fool. I thought we’d shared some kind of genuine connection. But now I felt like garbage. The feelings coiled in me deeper and deeper, poisoning my self-esteem.
“Get out,” I said, glaring at him.
“I’m already on my way, babe.” He said, blowing me a kiss. “Now let’s just pretend to do that tomorrow.”
And just like that, he turned and left my trailer.
I leaned back and my head crashed against my pillow. It took me a moment to place the feeling I was having. It wasn’t quite like how I felt in high school — when I felt like I was on the edge of crying all the time.
No, this feeling was too angry to be that. It was close, though. A cousin of that feeling.
I pulled the blanket around my body and cursed myself. How could I have been so naive? In the heat of the moment there, I actually entertained the thought that Mason could be my heartmate; that what we were doing was sure and genuine.
The way his eyes looked when his pupils were huge — even accomplished actors couldn’t fake that, right?
Overwhelmed with feeling inadequate, tricked, fooled, naive… all of the feelings converged into a heavy sentiment in my chest:
I would never be good enough.
And then suddenly, all of my old demons made their reappearances and pulled me down into a fitful sleep.
The next day, Mason was acting like nothing had happened.
I was no stranger to the casual hookup, but what we’d shared the night before seemed so real at the time that I couldn’t get him out of my mind. I was starting to obsess over him — watching him out of the corner of my eye wherever he was.
It was impossible not to turn into a mess over it, and the fact that I was so enraptured made me angry.
I thought of the way he smiled at me when he left my trailer — like he’d prevailed or something. And even though we were both consenting adults, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d taken something from me; coerced me in a way.
“You okay?” Alina asked from my side.
She was nervous today too; today was the day Rachel was coming onto the set.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, looking off towards the ocean.
“Charlie, I know something went down between you and Mason last night,” she whispered. “Just tell me now so I can get out of my own head for a second, okay?”
I sighed, my shoulders sagging. “How did you know?”
“Well, I went to bed and left you two alone. Up until this morning, I thought you guys called it a night in your separate trailers. It wasn’t until I saw the way you’ve been looking at him all morning that I knew something was up.”
I sighed. “Am I that obvious?” I asked defeatedly.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I’ve known you for a while; it’s only fair that I can pick up on what you’re thinking sometimes.”
“Well, alright then,” I said. And just like that, the story of what had happened the previous night poured out of me.
“What an asshole!” Alina said when I got to the part about him leaving.
“I know!” I said, feeling a rush of validation. “It’s not right to treat someone like that, right?”
“Right!” Alina cried. “If Rachel ever did that to me…”
I raised an eyebrow at her.
She went quiet quickly, realizing she’d said too much. Then she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. All we know is that we don’t like Mason anymore,” she said.
“No we don’t, he’s a scumbag,” I said, watching him from across the set. He was smiling and talking to an extra.
“I hate him,” Alina said dramatically, her green eyes narrowing. “Want me to beat him up?”
I laughed, then said, “No, we don’t want to let him think we care that much.”
“Good point,” she said.
I opened my mouth to tell Alina the part I’d left out; the part about that weird physical connection between me and Mason. That one tiny moment of realness in the sea of inauthenticity.
“I can’t believe he did that to you,” she growled, her fingers tightening around her cup of coffee. “What a fucking asshole.”
I decided not to tell her about the connection. It wasn’t even real, so why tell my best friend about it? Plus, she looked like she was having a fun time hating on him instead of thinking about her Rachel drama.
“When is your scene again?” she asked.
“Dusk,” I said.
“Okay, so we have a day to forget about him,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take revenge on him for you?”
“Yes,” I said, my
