Chapter 10

It was the hardest phase of my entire career. Being in Milan opened my eyes to the profession I chose, and even though I had always seen it as something fantastic, I experienced a dark side. Whenever they had the chance, the girls there would remind me that I wasn’t good enough, and everything Magdalene told me yesterday only proved they were right.

"For him, fame isn’t a burden, I think." Tess furrows her brow, as if my question is new to her as well. "We talk about the shows, about how Ava is always on their case, and how my father is still resentful about our relationship, but he never felt pressured by fame. Chase avoids reading what people send him, whether through messages or comments, and that helps him not to worry too much about what people think of him. But I don’t think Ashton ever adapted well to this madness. He loved the life he used to have and never thought that once he had a reputation to uphold, he’d have to behave better. He’s such a big kid!" She laughs as she finishes, drinking the rest of the wine at the bottom of her glass.

"You know what’s funny? I’ve known them for much longer, but you seem to understand them better."

"I was the first person they met when they arrived in New York." She shrugs indifferently.

"Even Finn opens up to you." I raise an eyebrow at Tess, who laughs openly.

"Maybe they see me as the most mature one." She tries, squinting slightly. "I don’t know, but honestly, they irritate me. Jesus, I ended up with a bunch of kids to take care of." She finishes with a sly smile. "As for Finn, I think he relates to me, even though I’m mad at him most of the time."

A moment of silence stretches between us, and I have no desire to break it. I watch as she nibbles her lower lip, struggling to suppress her urge to interrogate me.

Tess was never intrusive or the type to ask too many questions, and since I moved, our relationship has been cordial. We’re both reserved people, and our coexistence has been smooth because we’re too absorbed in our own lives to truly care about getting to know each other. Until now, when I notice discomfort creeping into her tense posture and curiosity sparking in her eyes.

My friendships are always more about others than about myself. I hate talking about myself or having to prove anything, letting people cross a clearly defined boundary.

But Theresa is an observer. Mackenzie told me that she figured everything out about Finnick without anyone needing to spell it out. And as she looks at me, I feel like she’s unraveling all my secrets, and for the first time in a long while, I feel stripped of my masks.

I shrink under her analytical gaze and lean forward to reach for the wine bottle. I pour for both of us in silence until it shatters with Tess’s gentle voice.

"You don’t need to worry about getting your job back. It was obvious how unhappy you were with it."

"I can’t just sit back and wait for another opportunity like the one I had with Magda to come along."

A breath escapes my lips.

"Effy told me that when Mackenzie was unemployed, you worked extra shifts to cover her share of the household expenses. I’m just saying—don’t rush. You can stay here as long as you want, and don’t worry about money because Harper doesn’t charge rent." She laughs like it’s a joke, but I feel the discomfort growing in my stomach. "You seem used to taking care of everyone, but no one takes care of you. Let me handle this for now so you have time to decide what you want to do."

A burning sensation settles behind my eyes as I hear her being so kind and warm.

When you grow up in a home where your parents protect you from everything and use that as an excuse to manipulate you, you discover an intense emptiness. You try to find a justification for their actions, but you only end up with more questions.

My parents, especially my mother, liked how I submitted to their beliefs and rules. If she saw me today—with all the men I’ve been with, everything I’ve experienced—she’d be cursing me for the rest of my life, just like my own generation does. And it wouldn’t matter that they share my blood, because for Alyssa Monaghan, the most precious thing she has is control over her daughters.

"Thank you, Tess."

"You’re welcome. As much as I’m enjoying this chat, I need to study. There’s a case giving me a headache at Baylor." Her sigh of frustration cuts through the air. "If you need me, just call."

She waves with her left hand while holding her wine glass in her right. I wave back and prop my feet up on the chair, staring at my phone with unread messages from Dannya and countless missed calls from Mackenzie, Effy, and Delilah.

By now, they must have already seen that I’m all over gossip pages as the “mystery woman who punched Ashton Baker.”

I decide to call Mackenzie first. Knowing her personality, if I ignore her any longer, she’ll probably send a voice message ending our friendship.

"Why didn’t you answer me?!" Her sharp voice shoots through before the second ring even finishes. "I was worried!"

"I’m sorry." I laugh, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear.

I step down from the chair, carrying my glass and the bottle over to the couch. Sitting down with one leg tucked under me, I set the bottle on the coffee table and grip the phone again while taking another sip of my drink.

"Did you really hit him? This happened two days ago? Why didn’t you tell me anything?"

"Because it wasn’t a big deal. They’re making so much noise over nothing."

"Not a big deal? You punched Ashton in the face, Vity! That is a big deal. What did he do?"

My defeat in this argument is obvious. Mackenzie is stubborn—not just when it comes to refusing to marry Bryan. In every way, this girl has a way of making my mind crumble once she sets her mind on something.

"For a change, the idiot butted into something that wasn’t his business, said some things during The Reckless’s meeting to Magdalene. She didn’t like it and fired me." I lean back against the couch, playing with an invisible thread on the hem of my silk pajama shorts. "I thought Bryan would have told you." I frown, suddenly realizing that this is exactly the kind of topic they would have discussed.

Mackenzie and Bryan talk almost all the time through messages—when he isn’t too caught up in music production—so it’s hard to believe he didn’t mention my fight with Ashton when he and the others were around as witnesses.

"We’ve been fighting."

"Again?" I sigh, pushing my frustration down my throat and swallowing the real response I’d like to give her. "Why don’t you just move here?"

"I can’t just move, Gravity. You always say we should follow our dreams, and no one should be above them."

"Yes, but I don’t have a relationship standing in the way of my dream. Admit it—you’re just acting the way you always do, being proud and waiting for him to beg!"

"I’m not moving, and that’s final." She states. The line goes quiet, but I can hear her sharp breathing. "I don’t want to fight with you too. I just called to make sure you’re okay."

"I’m fine." I gulp down the rest of my wine and set the glass on the coffee table. "Don’t worry about me. Now tell me—why did you fight with him this time?"

Mackenzie doesn’t hesitate to spill the reasons, and I let her talk. When I don’t have to talk about myself, it’s a huge relief, so I don’t mind being the listener instead of the one being listened to.

But some days, I just don’t want to deal with anything or anyone. I don’t want to think about my own problems, and even less about anyone else’s.