Page 91 of Beyond the Fame

“How can we start a relationship when we’re on opposite sides of the world? Or worse, what if she pauses her career to come with me?”

“Why would that be so bad?” Mylan asks.

“What?”

“Why would her pausing her career to be with you be so bad?” Lana clarifies.

I open my mouth, expecting an answer to come out, but I’ve got nothing and clamp my mouth shut.

“If she’s in love with you,” Lana adds, “and you love her, if you both want a future together, then maybe she wants to prioritize that over her career.”

I grind my teeth, trying to form a response to that.

“Why would she... I mean it’s... me.”

“Would you fucking stop with that?” Mylan’s hands form fists on the tabletop. “Stop thinking you’re worthless or don’t deserve to be happy.”

Lana squeezes Mylan’s upper arm and he relaxes slightly.

“How many times do I need to explain this before you get it in your thick skull?”

Oh, shit. Mylan is pissed. It takes a lot for this man to get pissed.

“You’re my best friend, and I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you.” His voice cracks, and he clenches his jaw. “I’m talking about when we were teens. When I was dealing with emancipation and getting my mom help while filming Mayhem, I was a mess. You kept me grounded. Too many times I thought how easy it would have been to give up. Too many fucking times. Then you’d text me and tell me something funny that happened on set. Or you’d send me pictures of you and Rey with paint all over your faces because you idiots fell for another of my many pranks. Or you’d call and ask me to hang out and play video games just because. Or when you and Rey would show up at my place at three in the morning after I had a really bad day on set, and we’d go fuck around and shoot one of your many short film projects.”

I sniffle and wipe my cheeks because I'm crying, and I never cry.

“So, yeah, you’re worthy and someone would totally prioritize a life with you.”

I bring my best friend in for a hug. The man who actually saved me more times than I can count. Who forgave me after I abandoned him and still loves me as much as I love him.

“Okay,” I say when we part.

I stand.

“Okay? That’s it?” Mylan muses. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

“You got it through my thick skull.”

My best friend smiles and shakes his head.

I walk away from the table, then stop and turn on my heel, holding up a finger.

“She’s back in New York,” Lana answers my unspoken question. “She leaves for her book tour in a couple of weeks. I'll text you her address.”

I return to the table, kiss Lana on the head, then run out of the venue.

Chapter 23- Rebecca

I flew into LAX from Kauai to pick up the stories I wrote that Lana had kept in her box of Tyler memories. When I landed, the paparazzi were waiting. They crowded me, bombarding me with questions about that damn article and why it was taken down, about Jensen and our time together in Hawaii, and about other things that all merged into one loud ringing in my ears.

Thankfully, airport security came to my rescue and Mylan let me use his jet to fly back to New York to avoid more of the media rats.

Now it’s Friday. Jet lag killed me, so I slept fourteen hours the first day back, then the next day I moped around my apartment, binging Netflix and stuffing my face with ice cream and fried foods.

If it weren’t for needing to go to my publisher’s office to talk about my manuscript after I emailed the first draft on Monday, I'd spend another day lounging and self-hating.

After the chaos at LAX, my publisher wasn’t taking chances. They sent a car and a bodyguard to pick me up from my Upper West Side loft. I’d never been famous enough to have a bodyguard. Maybe it’s time to consider hiring one. The protection my publisher sent is only temporary until this mess dies down.

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