The Decoy Girlfriend(67)
Instinct screams at Freya to take him and run, but it’s too late, they’re boxed in.
The big-shot industry names Freya’s had to memorize edge past the pair with disgruntled expressions, leaving Connor, Holly, Bowen, and the other Once Bitten alums visible. They all wear stony masks, revealing nothing, while Taft’s ambushed face shows everything.
Betrayal, devastation, and then, finally, steel.
Media outlets weren’t allowed to bring cameras inside, so the inquisition goes analog as journalists and critics all reach for pen and paper. Within seconds, Taft and Freya are surrounded.
“With the first season greenlit, as production gets under way, do you think you’ll choose to be more involved?” someone throws out.
The other questions follow in a barrage:
“Is it true that you’re prioritizing film over television roles? Do you consider yourself infinitely in-demand? Can you tell us how many other roles you’ve turned down?”
“Mandi, did Taft’s rumored off-screen romance with Bowen give you reason to doubt your boyfriend?”
“How do you feel about Connor, your former cast member and roommate, playing your—sorry, his—new role?”
“Even though you’re the only original cast member not returning, are you on board with the new creative direction, including handing over the mantle of male lead to Connor?”
“Yes or no: Nostalgia-fueled cash-grab? Is recycling content everything that’s wrong with Hollywood? Would you call repurposing IP creative cannibalism?”
Secondhand betrayal body slams into Freya. This isn’t just invasive. It’s cruel.
With every question, the situation clarifies itself even more and more. The Once Bitten reunion hashtag on Instagram wasn’t just an inside joke among friends. It was literal.
They’re bringing back the show, and Taft isn’t part of it.
They didn’t even reach out to him. No one else seems to realize that Taft has been tossed into the deep end here, learning about this all in real time, and she can’t tell if that’s because she knows him so well or they know him so little. The cast hovers at the periphery of the crowd, looking like they’re all holding a collective breath.
“I’m sorry, everyone, but this isn’t the time or place,” says Bowen, trying to mediate the situation. She looks at Taft with a trace of regret. “I have no idea where the leak came from, but you’ll get all the details with the official press release.”
“Yes, we’re here to celebrate Bowen and Charlie tonight,” agrees one of Once Bitten’s supporting characters.
“Come on, Taft, give us a quote,” wheedles one of the journalists. “Unless . . . there’s a reason you don’t want to? A secret feud behind the scenes?”
Anticipation gleams in every one of those vultures’ eyes.
The cast says nothing. Connor has the fucking gall to look annoyed by it all, the tempo of his foot tapping picking up with every question lobbed at Taft. Bowen catches Freya’s daggered gaze and mumbles something to her husband before they make their escape. Holly hangs on to her husband’s arm, for all the world a proud partner until Freya slices her attention the other woman’s way. Holly’s smile fades and she pretends to find something on the wall endlessly fascinating.
Anger and revulsion roil in Freya’s stomach. Cowards, all of them.
Taft holds up his free hand, and the questions peter to a stop. His voice, when he speaks, is steady. “So, first of all, I just want to say that I am unbelievably thrilled for the fans, new and old, who will get to experience the magic of Once Bitten all over again.”
Freya’s brain screeches as she stares in horror. What is he doing?
“One of my favorite things about Once Bitten is that the lore is so rich that it can be retold from any number of angles and perspectives, as plenty of fix-it fics can attest to.” Taft laughs, a little too well-timed and practiced to be anything other than fake. “While my shooting schedule is super busy right now, if we can make it work, I’d love to swing by the set.”
We? Who is this we? The people who deliberately excluded him from his own show, threw him away like fucking garbage? He had no clue about any of this. No one from the show even approached him, so why isn’t he throwing them under the bus?
She sets her jaw and tries not to look like she wants to telepathically murder his so-called friends.
From the way the cast members who are still hanging around flinch, it’s clear she hasn’t succeeded.
Good. She gets that Taft doesn’t want to make a scene, but she doesn’t have to be the bigger person, too.
“So, Taft,” says a hard-faced blond woman, not looking up from her notepad. “To clarify, you weren’t the holdout? Now that you’ve jumped to the big screen, do you ever see yourself returning to TV, or have you moved on to bigger and better things?”
Before he can answer, Freya presses herself into his side, their hands still held tight between them. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll still see him on TV,” she says in as pleasant a voice as she can muster, which, gauging from the look Taft shoots her, probably isn’t very.
“Of course.” The woman’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and Freya notices she stops writing.
Doesn’t matter. Everyone else is hanging on Freya’s words, and she’s not done.