Page 70 of Beyond the Bright Lights

“You two should get to hair and makeup and wardrobe. We start filming in an hour.”

Mylan's brows pinch with concern. He looks at Jensen, then back at me. He does not want to leave me.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll take good care of her,” Jensen adds, and I consider kicking him in the nuts for egging Mylan on.

Mylan searches my face and I nod. He reluctantly accepts that he has to go and kisses my forehead before stalking down the hall. Michelle Miller follows, scurrying her short legs to catch up.

Once they round a corner, guided by yellow signs that say ‘Hair & Makeup,’ Jensen lets out a loud sigh.

“I appreciate you helping him.”

I turn away from the now empty hallway, as if expecting Mylan to reappear if I keep staring. Jensen adjusts his black framed glasses, his shoulders tight, face scrunched. He's worried, and I'm not sure if that worry is for his movie or his former friend.

“I’m sorry about my behavior at the bar.”

I jolt because that I wasn’t expecting.

“What happened between you two? I've asked Mylan, but he always changes the subject to avoid talking about it.”

Jensen swallows hard and scratches the stubble along his round jaw. He looks around then waves his hand to indicate we walk away from the holding area and into the hallway where fewer people are gathered.

“Mylan and I were best friends. Then he let his addiction get between us.”

I scoff. “You mean you let his addiction push you away?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “It’s not that simple. I was there for him. I was always there for him. I cleaned up his messes, I covered for him far too many times. I offered him help, I wanted to help, and still, he never accepted it. What was I supposed to do?”

“Not give up?”

He shakes his head. “It was too hard. Have you ever seen someone you love willingly wilt away? Destroy their life with no regard to those around them?”

I bite my lip because it makes sense. I'm starting to understand. Did I judge Jensen too quickly? Maybe. He’s still an asshole, though. “Mylan needed support. He needed friends.”

We reach the end of the hallway and turn around, causally heading back down towards the cameras where several director chairs are placed up against the lockers. I assume this is where the first scene will be filmed.

“Mylan had support. He had friends: me, Bruno, Eloise. He had people who begged him to get help.” Jensen sighs, his breath slightly shaky. “He reached a point where he was so far gone that I no longer recognized him as my best friend.”

“Maybe this last stint worked. He’s doing better now. He hasn’t had one drop of alcohol or any drugs.”

That I'm aware of. I’m not even going to mention that first night at the bar.

“Yeah, he does this. It's a vicious cycle. He'll stay clean for a few weeks, or a month, then something will happen, something will trigger him, and he’ll start falling again. You should know while booze was an issue, it wasn’t the root of his problems. Not until he started adding the drugs—opioids, coke, molly, whatever else he could get his hands on.”

He’s telling me this to scare me away. If I’d met Mylan yesterday, it might have worked. But it’s been two weeks. Two weeks with a man who gives me more of himself than I deserve. Except, why do I still feel like he's nothing more than a familiar stranger?

“I should also warn you—”

“Lana?!” a shrill voice interrupts whatever warning Jensen was about to give me. Not that I would have taken that man too seriously. He seems to be on a mission to kick Mylan while he’s down.

Chills run up my arms once recognition sets in. That shrill voice belongs to the woman responsible for all of this.

Rebecca Taylor.

Chapter 17 - Lana

Tyler’s sister.

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