“Ohmygod,” she hissed, face tinting bright red, but she stepped forward, shooting her mother a scathing look over her shoulder. “Fine.”
“And you? Are you ready to join your brother and me on our next raid?”
“No.” She stood next to me, arms crossed, and turned toward her mother’s phone camera. “You should take me for ransom next time though.”
“A volunteer hostage? That’s a first.”
“Only because it’s way more believable. That new Annie Lou is so boring and ugly. Like, why would Kit even want to rescue someone like her? Ugh. He deserves so much better.”
Thank god the girl stomped off and past her mother before I had to come up with an in-character response to that. Even so, CJ held the line back, giving me a moment before the next kid could come through, and caught my eye with a little double tap to his name plaque. Asking if I needed a break.
This was only the third time someone had mentioned the recast to my face over the last week. The first one with this kind of vitriol. Nothing compared to the number of videos and comments I’d been bombarded with. Part of it seemed somewhat legit, people not liking how Annie got handled like a ragdoll. The other part of it was completely baseless, because they claimed Esra was unfit to play thePrettyAnnie Lou– and it always boiled down to Lindsey having been pale, blonde and blue-eyed, all of which didn’t actually account for her prettiness.
Fuck. If you asked me– and a couple of people had, I’d just not answered– Esra was more than pretty.
Regardless of all her infuriating tics, she had those big brown eyes ringed by thick lashes, those pouty cushioned lips, that bunny crinkle on her nose when she made a face… Anyone calling her ugly was either blind or stupid. Esra was a pain in the ass, but she was beautiful.
I waved CJ’s concern off with a flick of the wrist, and the next kid in a bandit costume came jumping toward me. He hollered and threw his hand up in the air for an enthusiastic high five. I couldn’t help smiling as I slapped my hand against his. This was more like it.
ESRA
My legs caved before my butt even touched the chair. I dropped on to it like a sack of flour. My skirts fluffed out around me.
Done. Six days. Eight shows.
And the reflection in my vanity mirror showed as much. My eyes were a little down-slanted, but those bedroom eyes just looked ready for bed now, with heavy lids and thin creases underneath them. It wasn’t even pure physical exhaustion. It was the mental exhaustion of constantly having to be aware of my movements. My focus slipped today, just for a second, and my right knee folded sideways when I’d run into the bank. Because of the stabbing pain, I’d barely been able to kick my leg up high enough to make it on to Tornado.
While everyone around me started taking off their costumes and makeup, I went online and ordered myself some knee and ankle braces. Just cheap generic ones. Still better than having to call my mother and ask her to send me my perfectly fitted expensive ones. She probably wouldn’t send them anyway. Not without demanding something in return. It was my own stupid oversight, not packing them when I rarely went a month without spraining something. I’d just never been away from home long enough for it to even cross my mind.
I confirmed the order just as Lucas sank into the chair next to mine.
“Hey Lucky,” I said and exchanged my phone for a makeup wipe.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He grinned widely, and I had a feeling those pearly whites worked on a lot of women. “We’re celebrating the start of the summer season tonight.”
“Yeah? Who’s we?” I asked as I scrubbed my face. I usually didn’t care much about guest lists, but the last week had been a crash course in parasocial relationships, and I’d banned myself from checking the online chatter within twodays.Ignorance is blissand all that. So I wasn’t crazy about celebrating anything if it involved Lucas bringing a bunch of Kit Holliday groupies to the staff house. Especially if I was limping around on a bad knee.
“Just the cast members. Almost everyone else has to work tomorrow. Over at House C, where Heather, Charlotte, Griggs and all live.”
“Okay, sure.” I beamed up at him. “House party?”
“House part-ay!” He hollered and pumped his fist in the air. The display of a cowboy sheriff acting like a frat boy was comical enough to make me laugh and distract me from my twisted knee for a moment.
Exactly what I needed. Mindless nonsense.
“Perfect. Count me in.”
People cleared out of the room within minutes. Even the ones who usually hung back to chat were out of their costumes, or at least out of their makeup, in a flash. Apparently I wasn’t the only one eager for a break. I hung back, waiting for the Advil to kick in, because I wasn’t sure how much weight my knee would support right now.
“Esra?”
I glanced back over my shoulder, catching Noah’s gaze. He stood in the door, hand on the light switch. He’d changed into one of those plaid pearl snaps and some jeans, and raised his brows as if I’d personally offended him by dilly-dallying.
“I still need a minute. I’ll switch the lights off on my way out.”
“Something wrong?”
“No,” I said, because I definitely wasn’t gonna give him more reasons to treat me like a blister on his heel.
