I sighed, trying to come to terms with the dissociation that was forming within me. It was like a part of who I fundamentally was as a person was being cracked and split apart, like tectonic plates.
“I just want to do what’s right,” I finally admitted. “And I think… I think Reese is a good person.”
Alina clapped her hands. “Finally! Ugh, that was like pulling teeth…”
“Hey! I’m just… I have morals, okay?”
Alina shook her head. “You are so from Ohio…”
“What!? You’re from Michigan! It’s pretty much the same thing!”
She jerked one of her perfectly manicured nails at me. “Don’t you dare try to say Ohio and Michigan are the same.”
I raised an eyebrow at her sudden aggression.
She recoiled. “…sorry, the rivalry’s kinda seeped into my blood at this point.”
“I’m tired of hearing about all of that while growing up there,” I groaned.
“Ugh, whatever, let’s not talk about sports. What are you going to do about the whole Reese situation now?”
I sighed. “I guess I should go apologize before Reese fires me…”
“Before he fires you? Charlie, he bent his own rules to get you on the set. To get you acting. Why would he throw that all away?”
“I don’t know, but honestly I’ve been feeling this creeping sensation of dread this whole time. At any minute over the past few weeks, I’ve thought he’d come knocking at my door to give me bad news. To send me back to L.A., and this dream would be over.”
She blinked at me quietly.
“I’ve felt… I’ve felt so temporary here. Like I’m easily replaceable,” I explained. “Do you ever feel that way?”
“Charlie, we’re all replaceable. You just have to chill and go with the flow.”
“But if I toe out of line at any point, they could take this dream away from me!” I said suddenly, my fears bubbling to the surface as I stood up. “If Reese doesn’t like me, he can just send me away! He has all the power!” I said.
Alina smirked and crossed her legs. “He doesn’t. You signed a contract, remember? Why do you think he keeps Rachel on the set? Why do you think he invited her back for this season? He submits to the power of the producers— they’re the ones that call the shots. You signed a contract, right?” she asked.
“Well, yes,” I said, my eyebrows coming together. “But he could just wave his hand and make that all go away…”
“What makes you think that? You saw the script recently, right? You’re already written in as soon as we get to Morocco.”
“What?” I asked. “To my knowledge, I didn’t have a part yet. It was just the promise of a part.”
“When was the last time you saw the script?”
“Um… two days ago?” I said.
“Well, they made the changes earlier today. You and Crim are both added. I was surprised by how little the whole thing changes— none of my parts are switched around.”
“Wait, are you serious?!” I asked, pulling out my phone and opening the google doc. Sure enough, there were edits made earlier at 3:07 pm. Several scenes had been added.
“What, did you expect the writers to just write it in the sharable document as they came up with it?” she asked with a laugh.
“Um… actually, yes,” I said, feeling ridiculous.
She laughed and I felt stupid. Then she saw the expression on my face and touched my shoulder. “Hey, I used to think that when I was on set for my first Netflix show, too. It’s super stressful and confusing, and you don’t know when and if all of the pieces are going to fall into place.”
“Yeah, you hit the nail on the head with that one,” I said, slumping down on the couch next to her. “This is like living in a whirlwind of uncertainty. And I might get sent back to L.A. At any moment—”
“You won’t,” Alina said, her green eyes pinning me to the couch like she had me locked in a vice. “I guarantee that.”
“But all the guys— they’re all mad at me,” I said, running my hands through my hair.
“I think they’re more resilient than you think,” Alina comforted. “All I know for sure is, they’re not getting rid of you. They can’t — you’re already written in. You’ve got the proof right there in your hand.”
I looked down at my phone, where my scenes were neatly woven in with all the other parts. It seemed unreal that my character’s name was peppering each scene next to Mason’s, and sometimes next to Leo’s. I was just playing some village boy, but by some divine stroke of luck, I was rubbing shoulders with royalty.
It was just like my life right now, even though I had trouble believing it. Even though I was certain that at any moment, it would all come crashing down.
“Okay, I guess I should go apologize to Reese…” I said, my shoulders sagging. “I was being a huge dick.”
Alina stood up, a warm smile on her face. She put her hands on my shoulders like we were about to slow dance or something. “We can all be dicks sometimes,” she said. “Some of us are just better at forgiving ourselves than others.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alina’s words rang in my mind as I made my way across the sand back to Reese’s trailer. The dark shape was on the other side of the beach, the yellow lights shining in the windows against the dark landscape.
I was… I was terrible at forgiving myself, let alone other people. Every single day, I still held myself accountable for what happened to me in high school. I made a poor decision and slept with that guy, then he was harassing me — just a bit of high school fun, he said. At least I’d pruned all of his gaslighting down to full-blown bullying; uncloaked his lies.
Then I told on him. The school didn’t do anything to punish him because his dad was some real estate guy who played golf with the principal. Instead, I was punished by my peers
