Page 49 of Yes, Love

The other notifications were from Britt, Tyrell, Codi, Sasha, Daphne, Shantell… All the reps from the companies I’d blown off. I was getting myself black-listed by going dark like this, but it was hard to care. Maybe it would all come back to bite me in the ass. Maybe I could fix it later. Maybe it didn’t fucking matter.

A lot of the missed calls were from my mom. She’d probably show up at my house in the next few hours, and I’d have to tell her five-thousand times that I was fine. She should have stayed off social media and ignored the trolls like I always told her to. She shouldn’t have read the articles speculating about Dominic cheating on me with Lucy throughout our entire relationship or about me going to the bar to confront Lucy like a jealous psycho.

I didn’t blame my mom for obsessively checking up on me, though. I’d forced her to see something that no mother should ever have to see. It must have been nothing short of hell for her to find me curled up on the bathroom floor, choking on my own vomit, an empty pill bottle at my side.

Her baby.

I did that to her. She’d never unsee it, no matter how brightly I smiled. She’d never stop worrying.

I filled a glass with water and took a sip, drumming my fingers on my “daft” pink countertops—bloody hell. I would have to get them replaced if they made me think of Dominic every time I looked at them. Also, I needed to stop saying bloody hell because that reminded me of him, too. And the tea. The goddamn tea I ordered for him straight from Kent so he wouldn’t have to drink coffee when he stayed over.

I crossed my kitchen, grabbed the premium tea sachets, and tossed them in the trash. That action brought me no relief.

You don’t deserve relief.

Ah, there were the intrusive thoughts. It was adorable that I thought they’d leave me alone for a minute, but they were always louder when I was stressed. Was I insane for firing Jeanie and blowing off all my contracts this week? I was destroying everything I’d built in the last seven years. Not only had I created a career and a small fortune, but I’d expertly crafted a mask to hide behind.

Hiding was invaluable to me. It was more important than all the wealth and fame combined. I’d worked so hard to make sure that no one saw that broken little version of me.

What if I just got real? What if I dropped the mask for the whole damn world to see?

Suddenly, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, crazy or not. I dug my phone back out of my bag and powered it on, ignoring the hundreds of notifications. Then I headed up to my recording room.

I didn’t touch up my foundation or put on any lipstick. I just turned on my ring light and adjusted its angle, then set my phone on its stand to record. I let out a deep breath and smoothed my hair with my heart pounding. “Hey, guys,” I began. I started to smile like Ava Mills Official — like the pretty little ray of sunshine that the world wanted me to be— but I dropped the smile and sighed instead. “This video isn’t going to be what you’re used to seeing from me. It’s not going to be what you want to see, but I don’t care anymore. I’m over what you think of me.” I shrugged and turned my face away from the camera for a moment, trying to gather my courage.

When I opened my mouth to speak again, my voice had an unexpected edge to it. “First things first, leave Lucy Macklemore the hell alone. You have no clue what she’s been through. Stop saying shit about things you don’t understand. Second, leave Dom alone. He didn’t cheat on me. Again, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” I let out a dry laugh and shook my head. “You know, just because someone shares a part of themselves with the public, it doesn’t give you ownership. It doesn’t give you the right to speak to them like they’re objects instead of people.”

I paused and held up my hand. “To be clear, I’m not talking to the beautiful fans that support and spread positivity. I see you guys, and I’m forever grateful. You make the hard days worth it.”

I leaned back in my chair and smoothed my hair again. It was a nervous habit. This next part was going to be difficult. I wasn’t so sure that my lips would even release the words. “The uh, the last thing I wanted to say…” I trailed off and shook my head. It wasn’t wrong to be a little broken. I could do this. I lifted my gaze and stared straight into the camera. “I have clinical depression. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember, and most days, I deal with it pretty well. Sometimes I don’t even feel it, and then other days, it wipes me out. I’m not telling you this so that you’ll pity me. I’m telling you this so that you’ll understand why I’m shutting down my beauty blog. Guys, I. Am. Tired. I need to step back and take care of myself, and that’s not wrong. If you’re a little broken, too, chin up. We’ll get through it.”

I usually ended my videos by blowing a kiss to the camera and flashing a dazzling, engineered smile. This time I kissed my fingers and pressed them to my phone before ending the recording. I turned off my ring light and carried my phone to my bed. After burrowing under the covers, I started to scroll through the filter options and then laughed to myself. I was still a fake-ass bitch when I was trying to be real.

I posted the video, filter-free, and waited for the dread to strangle me. Instead, I was filled with relief. I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t Ava Mills Official anymore. I was just me — broken monster, sad little girl, and lover of pretty things. Maybe there was a heart full of love buried in there somewhere, too.

***

“Ava, baby, do you want some creamer?” My mom puttered around my kitchen, attempting to make coffee with my fancy espresso machine. Really, she was only making a mess, but I didn’t have the heart to correct her technique. She was trying to take care of me in her way.

“Thanks, mom. That sounds great.” I scrolled through the comments on my new video. Most of them were beautiful and supportive.

We love you, Ava!

You are a straight-up Queen!

Haters gonna hate.

Me too, girl. Depression is a beast.

Then there were the small, stupid people that would never change.

Attention whore. Do you not have enough?

What do YOU have to be depressed about?

Stupid bitch.

---