Page 3 of Yearn

After clocking in for my shift, I began set up, consisting of polishing silverware, folding napkins, checking condiments, and a bunch of other useless tasks I hated. My favorite part of my job revolved around one thing: tips. I made a killing most nights and had scored a few contacts along the way that led to booking jobs. Max hated it, of course, he was super possessive, but I needed to use anything I had to get noticed. The competition was fierce—everyone was fighting to get work in the same industry. New York was a bitch: moody, temperamental, running hot and cold. One moment, I was giddy and feeling successful, the next I was depressed I’d never fulfill my dreams in a city that was overstuffed with beauty, talent, wealth, and luck.

I checked my phone quickly to see if I got a callback but nothing yet.

“Hey, boo, what’s up?”

My bestie, Elle, bumped my shoulder in greeting and grabbed a stack of napkins. “You’re late,” I teased. “Rock’s gonna give you shit.”

She rolled her big dark eyes. “Rock gives everyone shit. If only he knew how bad I wanted to quit, but I need a regular paycheck. I can’t seem to get a gig that lasts more than a day as an extra. It’s pissing me off.”

I nodded in sympathy. Elle was an actress—a good one—but there were a million good actresses here. She worked her ass off with auditions and had scored a few, but nothing mainstream. Elle had the perfect look for the camera. Her long dark hair was rich and shiny, and her face was heart shaped, with big brown eyes and gorgeous olive skin. She had naturally Botox lips anda slamming body, tall and willowy and graceful. We were the perfect complement to each other and always turned heads. It was the same with our personalities. I tended to be the leader, more vocal and animated, where she was introspective and happy to move in whatever direction I wanted. We’d graduated from NYU together, applied to Red together, and now worked together. Max and Cooper were also best friends, and Noah and Daisy’s chill vibes balanced us out. We were the cool kids at Red. It was rare I’d allow an outsider to penetrate my circle. We were exclusive for a reason.

If only Adam wasn’t a part of the circle, everything would be perfect. But he was tight with Max and Cooper and I was stuck with him.

I focused on Elle. “I’m sure you’ll get something soon. You just need the right part and you’ll be out of here. Don’t get famous without me, though.”

She laughed. “I’d never leave you. How was the reality show test?”

“Still waiting. We’re still hitting Whispers after work, right?” Even in New York, too many places closed when we were getting off our shift, but Whispers was a late night bar popular with wait staff. The cocktails were plentiful, the music was good, and we were regulars so they usually tried to hold a table for us.

“Yeah, Cooper will meet us. Is Max working tonight?”

“Supposed to, but he’s running late again.” I thought over our recent sex with a satisfied smile. We had great chemistry together, even if things had gotten a bit stale. Sure, he always gave me an orgasm, and I was super attracted to him, but there was this weird nagging in my gut that was starting to bother me. As if something was missing but I couldn’t figure out what it was. We were a power couple and happy. I know he loved me. Hell, even better? He kind of worshipped me. He hated when I was mad at him and even though he screwed up a few times inthe past, I knew he’d always be at my door, begging forgiveness, willing to do whatever necessary to get me back. I liked the control I had over him and our relationship. I needed it.

Trust was everything to me, and though it was easy to find a hot guy to sleep with, it seemed impossible to find a guy who actually wanted to commit, even short term. Not that I was focused on settling down—I was way too young to think about marriage or kids yet—but I did crave company. I hated being alone. I knew that wasn’t a good thing, but the longer I was without a guy in my life, I began to second guess myself and my confidence. I also had a high sex drive, and I wasn’t into quick hookups. There was something about feeling valued and wanted in a relationship, knowing I was the only one.

Yeah. I was fucked up. Overall, Max was good for me. We were good together. I definitely needed him to eventually step up with his career and not rely on being a bartender—he didn’t have a bachelor’s degree like me. He’d struggled in school and didn’t want to be stuck in a classroom after high school, so he’d dug into bartending and the gym. He told me he dreamt of being a full-time trainer where his hours were flexible and he was his own boss. But he was so damn good looking, he’d fallen into modeling easily for extra money.

I nibbled my lip as I folded napkins, falling silent. I was probably frustrated over stuff going on with me, not us. Most of us were working at Red to fund our artistic interests.

What I really needed was a break. If I got the reality show, my brand would explode and I wouldn’t have to worry about working here or booking boring modeling jobs.

It wasn’t fair for me to blame Max for my restlessness. I’d worked hard to create a persona of Queen bitch so no one knew I was really a mess inside. I had a crapload of issues to work out, mostly from my parents. I came from money which fundedmy cushy education and sky-high apartment rent, so I owned my privilege and didn’t pretend I had it hard.

What I didn’t talk about?

My cheating ass father who had another family and my alcoholic mother who was destroyed by his actions.

Max and Elle knew a bit, but I kept most of the details tight. I refused to be a poor little rich girl—it was way too cliché and I despised a cliché.

Elle snapped her fingers, startling me out of my thoughts. “Where’d you go? Back to your hot sex escapades with Max?”

I forced a smile. I was damn happy in my relationship and needed to stop picking at it. “Oh, please. You and Cooper practically banged in the bathroom last weekend. I didn’t know he was into the getting caught kink.”

She blushed, which made me crack up. Guys were addicted to Elle because of her good girl mystique. She was a walking contradiction of sex and virginity and her tips were as high as mine. Elle was the only one I didn’t mind sharing bottle service with because we’d perfected our sales pitch and never had an off night. “Stop! It’s not like that. We were pretty drunk.”

I snorted. “When aren’t we on a Saturday night? How are things with you guys?”

She gave a half shrug. Her long hair swished over her shoulders. “Good. We’re talking about moving in together but it’s hard finding a decent place. Coop wants somewhere with decent light and space for his photography, and space around here is impossible to get.”

New York was a bitch to live in, even though I couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else. Most of us had roommates or tiny studios packed with clothes racks and no kitchen. Still, we didn’t need a car and it was the best place to book a modeling or acting job. LA was way too fake for any of us, even though if we got amovie deal, we’d go to Siberia. Or Greenland. I always got mixed up on which was the worst.

“Are you both getting serious?” I asked, arching my brow.

“Well, we’ve been dating as long as you and Max. I think it’s time to see if we can move forward. Have you thought about it?”

My goal was the same as Elle’s, but even though I loved Max, the idea of giving up my privacy made me hesitate. And if Coop moved out, Max wouldn’t be able to afford the place without a roommate, so we may end up forced to live together. My vision was to take the next step once our careers were solid. “Yeah, we mentioned it a few times. But the idea of me having to share my bathroom gives me hives.”

She laughed. “Don’t blame you. Sometimes, I think it’s everyone constantly pushing at us. We’re only twenty-four and I’m sick of feeling like my life is half over. It’s all screwed up.”

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