Page 26 of Beyond the Fame

“I know.”

We laid there in silence, only the sounds of the waves fill the air. A slight breeze skims across our bodies to cool the scorching sun beating down on us.

“It took me a long time to get over my brother’s death. He was my best friend. It’s why I fought so hard against changes to the script.”

My arm floats close enough to Rebecca that my fingers graze hers. She doesn’t move it away.

“So, I went to therapy to talk about it. About why I refused to give in to the directors. She helped me realize I never properly grieved. Because my parents didn’t let me grieve with them. I convinced myself they hated me. At least, I think they wished I had died and not Tyler.”

“You really believe that?”

The water splashes as she shrugs. “They never outright said it, but I can tell. They can barely look at me when I visit them. When I call, they try to find any excuse to get off the phone. After Tyler died, I needed their love, yet all they ever did was push me away.”

This time, when my fingers graze hers, I latch on. She lets me, and I weave them with hers.

“Have you talked to them about this?”

“Yes. They deny it. Then they act so hurt, like I was the one who emotionally abused them.”

I squeeze her hand.

“Anyway, that’s just part of why I'm fucked up.”

“I don’t think you’re fucked up.”

She doesn’t respond to that. I wait, wondering if she has more to reveal to me. I also wonder when she’s going to realize we’re still holding hands.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You said you’re in therapy.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, that was so invasive.”

“No, it’s fine. Um, I’ve been going since I was a teenager.”

“Really?”

I laugh nervously. “Yeah, I'd get depressed about auditions. The way Hollywood perceived me as a fat person, always casting me as the fat friend, the comedic relief, or the butt of the joke. I’d also talk about my parents. They weren’t terrible parents, they were just... vacant.”

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry, Jensen.”

I wave off her sympathy, not wanting to go into detail about any of this. “I’ve accepted it by this point.”

“Parents should have unconditional love for their children. We should never have to accept anything less.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

We float in silence for a few minutes before she speaks again.

“What about Mylan?”

“What about him?”

“Do you talk about him in therapy too? Because I see the way you look at him. The fear in your eyes that he’s going to slip up again.”

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