Page 12 of Finding Their Place

It was about time fate gave me a break and offered a path different than the one my mom had gone down.

5

Garrett

“I’m sorry, Mr. Moore, you’re not what we’re looking for.”

“Nothing about you fits the criteria.”

“You don’t have the energy we want.”

“Perhaps you ought to return to Pennsylvania.”

That last not-so-gentle letdown was the icing on the cake for my day of going to open calls.

All four had been for a built, dark-haired guy my age, two with cocky swagger I had no issue portraying when needed and cliche gay male which I’d proven over the previous eight months living with Haley I could rock in my sleep.

And yet I wasn’t what the producers were looking for.

I thought of Alec and his family’s influence in Hollywood. Was it possible he’d somehow gotten me blacklisted in retaliation for my shameful mistake? Was there some secret network of whispering behind the scenes that kept people from being hired?

It had been that final interview where they’d asked me if I was the Garrett Moore who’d been involved with Alexander Henley. Like a moron, I’d answered with the truth—then seconds later had been told I should head back to the sticks where I’d come from.

I’d deleted Alec’s number from my cell, but I knew it by heart.

Hoping like hell I’d assumed wrong, I shot off a text the second I climbed into my car, my chest tight as my heart pounded beneath bone and tissue.

Was my being blacklisted your doing?

My phone chimed a notification before I turned the key.

Payback’s a bitch.

“Fuck.” I slammed my head back on the headrest, jaw set tight. I’d known Alec was a ruthless bastard when it came to business, but I’d never considered being on the receiving end of his anger.

He’d been enamored with me once upon a time—or so I’d thought.

That showed how fickle the heart could be.

My mind heavy and shoulders slumped, I pulled out of the parking lot, admitting defeat.

There would be no Garrett Moore in Hollywood’s lights, no billboards featuring my face as the hottest leading man on screen.

My eyes burned with the need to release my emotions, but I choked them back, thinking it made me strong.

I’d been putting on shows since I could remember, dancing and singing, however off tune, for any I could talk into watching me perform.

And now I wash dishes for a living.

Could I be any more pitiful?

But I’d made my own bed—because of one stupid choice that had ended up ruining my life and leaving me on a path to nowhere.

I’d been on a fast track to attaining my dreams, Alec being my boyfriend only a plus, then I’d left his bitch of a sister alone at a party at her insistence. It helped that the guys she’d plastered herself to had kicked the shit out of me when I’d attempted to drag her ass home, but that hadn’t mattered in the end.

She’d been sexually assaulted after I’d abandoned her.

And I’d been blamed.

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