2
felicity
He didn’t recognize me.
It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.
When I decided—against the advice of my parents—to head to Bottle Grounds tonight and check out the place that didn’t exist when I lived here before, I didn’t expect to run into Jax Cash. I really didn’t.
I thought I would see some people from high school, some of the locals who wouldn’t care that I was a “famous” musician. The people who treated you for the person you were, not the person the media made you out to be.
But I was sadly disappointed at the lack of friends I saw. There were so many new faces, and that shouldn’t surprise me, considering this place was back on the map after MaeBelle’s bakery took off. Her daughter, Aveline, used to babysit me, and when their bakery put Acton, Colorado on the map, I was so happy for them.
I don’t even see any of the Montgomerys tonight as I weave my way through the crowd, determined to get to the front door and forget the ridiculous notion of finding my old friends.
It was a surprise for my parents when I showed up last month on their doorstep, asking for solace. They, of course, didn’t hesitate to give it to me and welcomed me home with open arms. Though I had no doubt they were wondering why my face was tear-streaked and my normally very put-together blonde hair was damp and sweaty under the black wig I was currently sporting.
I haven’t even told them why I was home yet, and I don’t have that many intentions to do so, not until I can get my feet a little more steady underneath me.
They will eventually figure it out and then my world will change.
Over the last twelve years, I worked from the very bottom of the barrel in Hollywood, taking any job anyone would give me, including cleaning bathrooms, fetching coffee, and answering phones, while taking any singing or even acting jobs I could get.
Then, finally, someone saw my potential and put me in as a side character next to one of Hollywood’s favorite actor-actress duos in a musical, and my career finally took off. I took more roles as a side character before landing my first leading role in a musical drama, and that landed me at the top of the list for people wanting me in movies and on soundtracks.
Being an actress wasn’t what I went to Hollywood to pursue, and along the way, I lost touch with why I went there in the first place. Then, over the last four years, I stopped accepting roles and started spending all of my time in the studio, writing and recording music that fed my soul.
Everything had been going well, too well, if I was pessimistic about it. And I was struggling to find a happy balance that made the people around me understand why I was doing what I was.
It turned out that these people didn’t really give a shit if I was happy. They gave a shit if I was making them hefty paychecks. This whole realization awoke something in me that’s been lyingdormant for years, something that I shoved down while I chased success.
Then, after one really bad night where I found my boyfriend cheating on me with another actress, him being a big star himself, I felt the last bit of my resolve crumble. I looked around the beautiful house I had near the ocean, the expensive car sitting in the garage, the designer clothes that sat in my closet, and I wondered what it was all for.
Hisface flashed in my mind, but I pushed it aside, packed a bag, and came home.
Now, as I walk through the warm summer air, finding my mom’s SUV waiting for me, I get the sense that where I once thought I belonged, maybe doesn’t belong to me at all anymore.
Ringing pulls me from a deep sleep, and I groggily reach over to find my phone, squinting at the screen to see my best friend is calling.
“What?” I answer, my voice hoarse from disuse.
“Ooh, someone’s a ray of fucking sunshine this morning,” my best friend, Erin, says, sounding like she is in some busy café. I bet it is our favorite, the one with the delicious crepes and cinnamon apple lattes.
“It’s early, Erin.” I sigh, stretching my hands above my head and feeling like a stranger in my own body. I look around my childhood room and smile at the boy band poster that is still hanging on the wall.
My parents left everything exactly the way it was.
“It’s not, babe. It’s like ten here, which means it’s…noon there? Shit, I suck at time zones! Why are there so many?”
I smile at her grumpy demeanor and sigh. “Is there something you need?”
“Did you see the post from Zack?”
I frown at the mention of my ex and shake my head. “No. I deleted social media.”
Erin gasps. “What! How could you delete it?”
“I mean,” I speak louder, getting her attention. “I deleted the apps from my phone.”
