Page 46 of You. Me. Us.

And in that moment, Hillary realized she didn’t want to let him down. She didn’t want to run away from this chance, from the connection they were forming. She wanted to be the woman he saw when he looked at her—brave, capable, and ready to take on the world.

“You’re right,” she said finally, her voice growing stronger with each word. “I can’t give up now. Not when there’s so much at stake.”

On the other end of the line, Olivia let out a small chuckle. “That’s a go-getter. I knew you had it in you.”

“Thank you for the pep talk,” Hillary said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’d figure it out,” Olivia replied, her tone warm and confident. “But I’m always here when you need me. Now, go out there and show them what you’re made of because I will not lose out on this series.”

“Thanks,” Hillary repeated and ended the call, feeling lighter than she had in days minus last night. She glanced around her hotel room, taking in the scattered clothes and half-unpackedsuitcases. Just minutes ago, she had been ready to throw it all in and run back to the safety of her old life.

But now? Now she was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. She thought of Julius, of the way his eyes had sparkled when he talked about the movie, the passion he had for his craft. She wanted to be a part of that, to prove to herself and everyone else that she was capable of more than they ever imagined.

Today was a bad start.

Tomorrow she would do better.

twenty

. . .

Hillary’s handshook as she grasped the heavy metal handle of the studio door, pausing to suck in a lungful of air before letting herself in. She stepped inside and was hit with a wall of noise of all kinds—chattering voices, clanging equipment, and the whirring of cameras. She walked carefully through the maze of cables and lights, dodging frantic crew members. Her heart raced as she made her way into the room, her palms slick with nervous sweat. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before getting back on the saddle after yesterday’s disaster.

Julius had stopped by not long after she ended the call with Olivia, and rather than let him tell her how it was all going to work, she’d jumped him like a feral cat in heat and made sure they did absolutely no talking until they were both worn out. She’d slipped out this morning for an earlier call time.

Now, she had to navigate the work day on her own and be the person both Olivia and Julius seem to think she was.

She made her way to her makeup chair, her script clutched tightly in her hands. Once inside, she sank into the chair infront of the vanity mirror. Meeting her own gaze, she whispered, “You’ve got this, Hillary. You’ve come so far.”

Flashes of memory danced through her mind - late nights hunched over her laptop, writing articles that barely got noticed, the sting of rejection from countless pitches to Oliva. The whispers of doubt that had plagued her for so long. But she pushed them aside, focusing instead on the present moment. Today was the day she stood a shot at turning it all around.

“Miss Mitchell?” A woman with a dark black bob and a face full of neon makeup smiled at her from a chair.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Fantastic,” she stood and stuck out her hand. “Kendra. You are I are going to be spending quite a bit of time together as I make you glow like an alien princess every day.” She grinned. “Today is just for me to look over your skin tone, see any possible problem areas, and fit the latex pieces. But soon, you’ll see, we are going to be besties or you’ll hate the sight of me.”

Hillary gave a nervous laugh and sat as Kendra gestured to the chair. “I think that sounds wonderful to have someone to hang out with on set.” She let her voice drop to a whisper. “I’m new.”

Kendra chuckled. “We’re all new to this movie, don’t let being new to the industry throw you off.” Kendra moved to stand before her and squatted. “Do you mind if I touch you?”

Hillary shook her head, and Kendra set her fingers on Hillary’s chin, twisting and turning it, likely trying to color match her very stubborn shade of pink.

“May I run through my lines?” She hated the slight tremor in her voice but knew personality changes weren’t made overnight.

“You betcha. You can talk to me, ignore me, at the end of the day it’s a long time in that chair, you do what makes you comfortable.”

Smiling, Hillary flipped open the script and began to review her lines. The words flowed more easily now, each one imbued with the confidence she’d fought so hard to achieve. She could feel herself coming to life, the shy, unassuming journalist transforming into a force to be reckoned with, a princess-turned queen of an entire planet.

All the while Kendra brushed concealer on her cheeks, rubbed a cloth over her skin, and repeated the process, sometimes making sounds of approval.

A knock on the edge of the table startled her from her concentration. “Miss. Mitchell, you’re needed on set in five,” a voice called out.

“Thank you, I’ll be right there,” Hillary replied, her voice steady and assured.

She stood, straightening her hoodie and readjusting her jeans. As she caught her reflection once more, she smiled. She still looked like a journalist, but she knew there was more in her, she just had to embrace it.

With a deep breath and a nod of self-assurance, Hillary stepped out of her trailer and strode toward the set, ready to embody her character and prove to herself and everyone else that she was exactly where she belonged.

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