It’s also one reason why I’ve been avoiding Autumn’s calls. The only reason I even answered today was because she said she had big news for me. Now that she’s here, I’m wondering what it is.
“Emmett?” Autumn asks, shaking a glass at me. “Come on, you have to celebrate your last day. You can’t be all mopey and depressed about it.”
“Mopey?” I frown. “I’m the opposite of mopey.”
“I don’t know. You’re in your trailer, alone, reading a book. I know how hard it is to say good bye to an era.”
“I was on the show for less than a year. It was a short era.”
“Even so. Toast with me.”
I glance at the clock on the wall. “They might need me for a reshoot.”
“Nope,” she says with a big smile. “They said you’re all done.”
“Really?” Hell, they could have told me that. I would have tried to meet up with Alyssa.
“When they’re done shooting, they said to come over to Julian’s trailer for a goodbye toast but I thought I would beat them to it. So drink up.”
She hands me the drink and raises her glass to mine.
We cheers.
I drink.
Damn, it’s good.
And then…time just kind of slips by.
Autumn keeps refilling my glass, sitting beside me in the trailer, until I’m not sure how much I’ve drunk.
“So,” she says to me and I’m barely conscious of the fact that her leg is pressed against mine. Warning bells are going off in my head but I’m not sure why. “What do you think your next role will be? What do you want me to help you campaign for? If I work side-by-side with your agent, I think you could have pretty much anything. Even a movie role. A big one.”
“I’m moving to London,” I tell her, aware that I’ve slurred my words. Also aware that I’m not sure if I’m moving to London at all but it seems the thing to say right now.
Autumn stills beside me. Her hand goes on my leg. “What?”
“I said I’m moving to London and taking Alyssa with me.”
I look up at her face and she’s staring at me in horror. “Alyssa? You…the contract is almost up, Emmett.”
I shrug. “I’m in love with her. What can I say.”
“You’re what?!” she hisses.
“In love.” I hold out my empty glass and wave it at her. “More please.”
She watches me for a second. My vision starts to double on itself so I see two sets of blindingly white teeth. Then it comes together again.
“Emmett,” she says, pouring me another glass. “You can’t go to London. What would you do? Theatre again?”
“Why not?”
“Then what use am I to you?” For the first time, she looks absolutely hurt.
Shit. She’s taking it personally.
“It’ll all work out,” I tell her, taking a drink.
She grows silent for who knows how long until she mutters to herself. “Well I’m glad I saw this coming.”
“Huh?”
She gets to her feet. “Come on. We should go join the party.”
“Party?”
“At the other trailer. Julian’s. Your goodbye party.” She then pours me another drink. “Finish that first.”
I stare at the bottle. “Shit. I’ve almost had most of it.”
“You’re very drunk,” she says. “Finish it.”
I do what she says. Who am I to argue.
When I’m done the glass, I have a hard time getting to my feet. She has to haul me up.
I almost fall over on her. I can’t stop laughing. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think my feet work. How am I going to do musical theatre again if my feet don’t work?”
“It’s fine,” she says, laughing in response. It’s nice that she’s back to being nice again.
She opens the trailer door and the parking lot where all the trailers are parked is dark, no one around. The air is crisp with fall. The giant studio looms beside us. In the distance I hear Julian’s laugh and some cheers. There really is a party going on. If it’s for me, I should be there.
Hell, Alyssa should be here. She’s my forever date. I wish I’d known.
I should call her.
“Alyssa,” I say but I don’t know what I expect. For her to appear?
At that, I nearly stumble down the trailer steps and she’s holding me up once again.
“Wow. You’re stronger than you look,” I tell her as she puts my arm around her shoulder.
We walk a few feet until we’re between two trailers, then we stop.
“You’re drunk, Emmett,” she says again, her voice lower now.
I lean back against the trailer, trying to get my bearings. Holy shit. What is even happening.
My hands are going down her sides, skirting over her waist, hips, thighs.
Her hands are cupping my face.
Then she’s kissing me.
I kiss her back.
It takes a second for me to realize.
This isn’t Alyssa’s mouth. Not her lips, not her tongue. This isn’t her skin beneath my hands.
“No,” I blurt out and try to move my head back. The world spins. I nearly lose my balance.
Autumn is holding me.
Autumn is not letting go.
This is all Autumn, not Alyssa.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” I mumble, trying to keep my head up straight.
Autumn is pulling my face towards her, trying to kiss me again.
“No one can see us, it doesn’t matter,” she whispers to me as I move my face out of reach.
I put my hand on her chest and push her back. I fall back against the trailer and raise my head.
She’s staring at me, enraged under the dim lights of the parking lot. “What’s wrong with me, Emmett?” she asks. “What is it?”
I don’t know what to say. I try and swallow. “I’m flattered.”
Oh, she doesn’t like that. “Flattered?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m very flattered you tried to kiss me and you like me but it’s not mutual. Nope. I’m with Alyssa and you’re not Alyssa and I’m sorry but…”
“That’s a fake relationship Emmett,” she snipes harshly.
“It isn’t. I don’t think it ever was,” I admit. “I love her.”
“You don’t know love,” she says. “That’s not who you are.”
I flinch. “I’m sorry. I don’t think…I need to go home.”
“Emmett,” she warns.
I start walking off and when she tries to grab a hold of me, I push her off.
“Emmett!” she yells after me.
I manage to get my phone out of my pocket and dial a cab before I lose all capability.
Then I stumble out of the studio, skipping my goodbye party and leaving my publicist behind. I need to be alone. I need to sober up.
Then I need to tell Alyssa exactly what happened.
* * *
I wake up to a knock at my door.
I think I’ve been listening to it for a long time but I thought it was my heart pounding in my head.
My mouth feels like I’ve swallowed sawdust.
I am in bad shape.
Gingerly I roll over and groan. My curtains are closed and soft light is filtering in through the cracks. I have no idea at all what time it is.
I reach over and pick up my phone.
It’s dead. Figures.
I take in a deep breath, trying to bring feeling back into my body.
Fucking hell. What did I drink last night?
Oh yeah.
Oh…fuck.
It all comes rushing back.
What a mess.
The knock at the door again. Louder this time.
Pounding, actually.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
That’s never a good sign.
I get out of bed and pull on a pair of jogging pants as I head over to the door.
I look through the peephole.
It’s Alyssa. She’s looking down at her phone.
I quickly swing open the door.
“Hey,” I say to her, squinting at the light. Even though it’s cloudy, it still hurts my eyes. “My phone’s been dead, I–”