Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss(54)

People scattered as though they were grateful they didn’t get sprayed with fire.

“I better go to makeup,” Amanda said, “because I’m sure those scenes will involve me.”

“Yes, go. I guess I’m going home.” I turned to go collect my things from my trailer when Remy stopped me with, “Lacey. A word.”

I swallowed hard and joined him by a large light. I noted the sandbags on its base that kept it from falling over.

“Are you sure you have no idea as to what might have happened to it?”

“I’m positive. Leah usually takes it.”

“Leah has been let go.”

“What?” I asked in shock.

“Her assistant, Simone, will be taking over the rest of filming. Luckily we have the original mold, we should be able to get a rush on it and have a new one in hand by tomorrow. Keep your eye on your inbox.” With that, he left.

In my trailer I put on some actual clothes for the day and sat on the couch. Leah was fired. The woman my dad was dating. I wasn’t sure how he would react, but I wasn’t going to find out over the phone. As much as I didn’t want to, I headed home.





Twenty-Five


What was my dad going to say when he found out the woman he liked was fired because of me? Well, maybe not exactly because of me, but it felt like it.

The sun was bright as I pulled up to the apartment building. The paint on the outside was a fading yellow, and the stucco had long cracks extending all the way to the eaves. I’d never noticed that before. I usually came home after dark.

I unlocked and opened the door with a creak. “Hello!” I called out because I wasn’t sure who was here.

“Lace?” My dad stood in the small kitchen, a pan of scrambled eggs on the stove. “You’re home really early.”

“I am.”

He pulled another plate from the cupboard and spooned some eggs onto it. He set it down at the bar for me.

“Thanks.” I plopped onto a barstool. His laptop was open on the counter, and just as I was about to ask him if Leah had told him what happened, I saw what he was reading—the online article about me.

“Were you ever going to tell me about that?” he asked.

“About what? Some online gossip?” Like I needed my dad to find out someone on set might be targeting me. I wasn’t sure what he’d do if he knew, but I was sure it would involve talking to Remy. And considering Remy just fired Leah, I didn’t need any more attention on me.

“If it’s not true, then I’m going to call them and demand that they print a retraction.”

“Dad, my name is already all over the internet. My picture too. You can’t run around demanding people take down something that I’m purposely putting there.”

He jammed his finger at the screen of his computer. “You purposely put this out there?”

“Not that specifically, but myself. I’m going to be famous one day, and there’s nothing you can do to stop that.” I was standing now.

“Until you’re eighteen, I can try my hardest.”

“Why don’t you just support me?” If he supported me, I could tell him that the article really did hurt me. That I hated reading that stuff about myself. If he had made it easy to talk to him, I could ask for his advice.

“Because you’re too young, odds are all this attention is going to change you. And not for the better.”

“And if I was older, I’d be fine?” I asked, anger tightening my throat.

“Yes, actually. If you were older, you would be more grounded in who you are.”

“It’s nice that my own father has no faith in me!”

“It not that; Leah has told me all sorts of stories about—”

“About me?” I asked.

“No, but about other young stars.”

“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing she won’t be around to spy on me anymore. She got fired today!” I spit out the words and immediately wanted to take them back, deliver that differently, because I could tell it was the first time he was hearing this. She hadn’t told him yet. But I couldn’t, and no matter how I’d delivered it, he needed to know. That announcement stunned my dad silent, and I took the opportunity to flee to my bedroom.

I lay on my bed staring at the empty text box on my phone. For the last hour I’d been trying to compose a text to Donavan. I had typed and erased several variations of: Sorry about showing up at your work last night with a narcissist actor, a demanding one, and a clueless one. You figure out which one was which. We’re actually probably interchangeable. But I couldn’t send it. I always did better face-to-face. Except with him, it seemed. With him I’d been a mess from day one. So maybe I needed to just let him go. I didn’t want to, because it felt like I needed his help now more than ever. Yes, we were definitely interchangeable. Or maybe I was all three qualities by myself.

I sighed, put my phone on the nightstand, and pulled the blankets over my head.

Amanda crushed me into a hug the next morning as I was exiting my trailer, heading toward makeup. “I missed you yesterday.”

“How was yesterday? Did anyone seem super happy that I was gone?”

“Not that I saw, and I was looking.”

“I need to get to makeup with . . . Quick, remind me what the makeup person’s name is. I feel bad; I should remember.” What I really felt bad about was that Leah was fired. And about the fight I’d had with my dad the day before. Not just how I delivered the news but about everything he’d said leading up to that.