Page 71 of Beyond the Bright Lights

Rebecca started writing Tyler’s Team five years after his death. It took her a year to finish and another year for someone to publish it. Seven years after Tyler’s death and suddenly my life was thrown into the limelight: my life, my private love story, my grief.

Rebecca included all our stories, everything from how we met and Tyler pushing me off the cliff to the last words he said to me before he died. The only thing she did not include was the loss of our child and the hysterectomy that followed. When she told me she was writing the book, she promised that personal and heartbreaking moment in my life would be left out. It wasn’t in the screenplay either, otherwise Mylan would have known.

I didn’t read the screenplay. Mylan offered but I refused, knowing I would be here on set to relive those memories through the actors. I knew I could only put myself through that once. If I'm honest, I may not be able to handle it at all.

Besides my love story with Tyler, Rebecca also included the inspirational parts of starting the organization for cancer research and helping families of loved ones going through the same fight. She shined a light on how Tyler spent his final days, making sure others would have better futures.

Seven years after Tyler’s death, the book became an instant hit.

Eight years after Tyler’s death, Rebecca informed me a Hollywood producer contacted her, a big named one, who wanted to turn Tyler’s Team into a movie.

Ten years after Tyler’s death, once the legalities had all been worked out, the screenplay was being written.

Twelve years after Tyler’s death, and I was done. I told Rebecca I couldn’t be part of the process anymore. It was taking too long, and I was ready to move on, ready to heal.

Eighteen years after Tyler’s death and filming begins. Healed wounds are reopening. My grief revisited once again.

“Lana,” Rebecca’s sweet as honey voice pours down the hallway as she walks to where I stand with Jensen. She opens her arms wide, swaying her curvy hips like she’s a beauty queen contestant on stage showing off her gown. Her light brown hair falls over her shoulder in perfectly styled waves. She looks exactly the same. She's five years younger than me, yet she could pass for someone in their twenties. It’s not a fake beauty either. Her skin is smooth and flawless. A plastic surgeon or Botox couldn’t create such art.

And her body. She was never thin but not big either. She’s midsize and as breathtaking as ever.

“Rebecca,” I manage to say. I even manage to sound happy to see her.

She wraps me in her strong arms, her firm tits pressing against my soft body. Okay, maybe at least one part of her is fake. Did Rebecca get implants? She squeezes me hard enough that I wince before we part.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” I lie.

“Of course, silly,” she purrs in that thick Arkansas drawl that has to be as manufactured as her tits because she hasn’t lived in Arkansas in a very long time. Certainly, long enough to water down her twang. “I wrote the book and the screenplay. This project has been my baby for nearly thirteen years. I plan to be here every day.”

Jensen sighs heavily beside me.

Rebecca’s sharp eyes cut to him. She purses her lips and raises her chin high. “Jensen.”

Oh. This is interesting. Do they have beef?

“I need to finish prep.” He turns to me. “We’ll talk later?”

He doesn’t give me time to answer, and it would have been ‘no thanks.’ If Jensen has more to say about Mylan, I'd rather hear it all from Mylan himself.

“Ugh,” Rebecca says the moment Jensen is out of sight. “I can’t stand that man.”

She swallows her disgust fast before plastering on a forced smile for me. “How’ve you been, sweetie?”

Time to put on my battle gear.

Now it’s my turn to narrow my eyes at her. “Could be better.”

That fake smile of hers drops. “Oh please, Lana Banana. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Do. Not. Call. Me. That,” I seethe. Rebecca blanches. My words sting because she remembers how much that nickname means to me. Tyler was the first to use it and my grandparents and Ginger quickly adopted it. A nickname that Rebecca does not have the honor of repeating.

It’s also why I won't let Mylan use it. It doesn’t seem right.

“You should have called me.” I cross my arms.

Rebecca sighs and rubs her temples. “Lana, you were very clear when you dropped out six years ago that you no longer wanted to be a part of the movie.”

“I didn’t want to be a part of it because I wasn't mentally strong enough. I had to put this grief to bed and that meant stepping back from everything, the book, my role with the organization, and especially the movie. A movie I thought would be shot on some Hollywood sound stage, far away from me. Not here in our town, at our school, at Tyler’s favorite places—”

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