Page 83 of Beyond the Bright Lights

My head jerks to Chelle and she smiles vindictively. She knew exactly what to say to piss me off.

“Yeah, they say she’s too old, like, she could be your mother.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“They say she’s only fucking you because you remind her of her dead fiancé.”

“Shut the fuck up, Chelle.”

She shrugs and goes back to her smartphone.

It's not true. For one, Lana told me I’m nothing like him, looks or personality-wise. Lana and I are connected because of Tyler but not because I am Tyler. Plus, we’re controlling what the media is reporting. So, whatever bullshit Chelle is reading must be on fan blogs or sleazy websites that lack credibility.

“All done,” Jenna, the makeup artist, says, and I’m out of the chair as if the surface burned my ass.

Chelle yells something after me but it has me walking away faster from her annoying voice. I stalk out of the makeup trailer back to set and turn the corner down the hallway, dodging anyone who tries to approach me or talk to me or even wave at me.

I have to get to her.

Sure enough, I find her talking to Jensen.

“Boss?” Bruno calls to me from behind. I look over my shoulder, and he’s nearly jogging to keep up.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.”

My heart beats faster than my legs can move. I fist my hands at my sides, gearing up for a fight. Gearing up to defend myself from whatever bullshit Jensen is feeding her. One wrong word out of that asshole’s mouth, and I’m going to explode.

Lana’s laughter breaks through this wall of anxiety I’ve built around me. You need this job. Lana needs you to get it right. One simple thought of failing her, disappointing her, pushes down the anger boiling to the surface.

I calmly arrive at Lana’s side. She turns to me, smiling, and I melt into a puddle. Okay, not really, but it felt like it. My fast-beating heart stutters and my entire body relaxes as Lana gently takes my hand with hers. She squeezes then brings it to her lips to kiss my knuckles.

I don’t deserve her.

“Jensen was telling me—”

This is it. This is when the ball drops. This is when she leaves me.

“— about the pranks you used to pull on each other on set.”

Wait, what?

Jensen laughs. “Mylan was a master prankster. I never saw it coming. I don’t know how many times I walked out of the bathroom, pants down, ass showing because he’d fill the toilet bowl with fake cockroaches or cover it with Saran Wrap or slather the rim with Vaseline. I’d run out, too pissed to remember to pull up my pants, mooning everyone on set while cursing him out.”

The corner of my lip turns up at those memories. They were the best times of my life—before I got sick with this fucking disease.

Jensen slaps me on the shoulder, pulling me back to reality. “You ready to start shooting, man?”

I blink at him as he turns to walk away. Who the hell is this man?

I give Lana a quick kiss before following Jensen out to my mark. “What’s going on? Why are you being nice?” I ask the moment we’re out of Lana’s hearing range.

We’re shooting a cafeteria scene today, so Jensen leads me to a table in the middle. His hand is on my back like he used to do when we’d enter a club—like when were friends—protective and supportive.

“What are you talking about?”

“Cut the bullshit, Jenny.”

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