Page 19 of Sizzle Reel

Wyatt just told Steven Wells and Valeria Sullivan I’m bi.

My own parents and brother don’t know. I haven’t even told my friends besides Romy and Wyatt. I haven’t even told my other queer friends.

And now Steven Wells and Valeria Sullivan know.

“And Jewish, if that counts,” Wyatt continues.

My face goes hot. My heart hammers so hard it’s causing chest pain. I squeeze my eyes shut, begging the universe that, when I open them, this won’t have happened.

“In Hollywood, it doesn’t,” Steven says. He pauses. “Bisexual, huh?” Steven turns his body to Valeria. “Sound interesting to you?”

Valeria nods; I should be acknowledging this, but the blood’s left my head. I force the watered-down coffee still on my desk into my mouth. Anything to tip me back to full consciousness. This is not good. My body, as usual, is betraying me.

Wyatt’s out of the office again, his head cocked at me.

“What did you do?” I squeak out.

“You’re gay?!”

If I thought I was going to pass out a second ago, looking over to see Alice in front of me just proves that I have already passed out, died, and officially landed in the purgatory that Jews don’t believe in. She must have come out of her office just in time to hear Steven say “bisexual.”

The office has also gone dead silent. One slow pan across this room and everyone, like every assistant, along with Alice, is staring at me. The assistants hold their gazes on me for seconds before their attention falls elsewhere. Alice is downright giddy, like she won the lottery. Steven and Wyatt seem blissfully unaware of anything going on. And Valeria—Valeria’s not even looking at the scene. She’s frowning, a line between her brows, wringing her wrists, staring at a far-off wall. She’s the only one seemingly reacting to how oversaturated the white light is in here. The only one not an unsettling smidgen out of focus.

That’s the image that gets my throat to constrict.

I turn to Alice in all her glee. “I’m…actually bisexual.”

I’ve never said this out loud to any adult-adult besides Julia.

“Look at that. I made a diversity hire without even knowing it!” Alice says.

The line is so absurd I’m launched out of the emotion of the moment. Or, at least, the emotion isn’t mortification anymore. It’s anger. Everyone’s crystal clear again.

Alice? The woman who said bisexual girls were just seeking attention less than a week ago? She’s not even hiding it. I went from good assistant to diversity hire with one unwilling reveal.

“Um…” I rub my forearm. “I guess.”

“What a perfect day,” Alice says.

Alice pulls out her phone, pulls me into her, and takes a selfie.

A photo. She takes a photo of us together. Just like that.

She’s got Twitter up. I can only watch in shock as she posts our selfie with the caption: WITH MY ~PANSEXUAL~ ASSISTANT. THESE BRAVE KIDS ARE THE FUTURE. #WENEEDDIVERSITY #PRIDE.

This can’t be real. Wyatt didn’t just out me to my boss. My boss didn’t just reply by instantly using me as fodder for more viral tweets.

“Are my parents gonna see that?” I ask.

I don’t even follow Alice. I know what the answer to that question is. But I can’t even fathom asking anything else. Because what if they do? I’m not ready to explain bisexuality to them, for them to call it a phase—

“No, but people in the industry will, love. They’ll see it after our extra year. Jobs will be flooding your house.”

I automatically move to glance at Valeria, to ground this. Remind myself that good things are happening right now, even if I can’t breathe.

But Valeria’s gone.

I get an email from Wyatt confirming the meeting/interview with Valeria for Wednesday evening, but it’s the only communication we have. I’m not talking to him because of a combination of the usual monster Monday workload and a constant pressure behind my eyes that seems to be anger and betrayal.

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