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“I don’t doubt that at all. But it gets worse,” I sighed. “Neal recognized me at the party and refused to talk to me. I didn’t understand why until the producer who was hosting the event told me that Nate’s a homophobe.”
“In Neal’s case, I’m not surprised to hear that,” she sighed. “And now Tate’s working with him?”
“Yup. Neal’s his mentor or something. Tate thinks Neal is his ticket to the top. And Tate will do just about anything to prove himself worthy. I get being driven, but this? This, I don’t understand. How can he push me away because of this prick? Wait. What am I saying? This is Hollywood. I should be used to this shit by now. No one cares about anything except their fucking career,” I snapped. “But I thought… I thought Tate was different. That our friendship was different.”
“Sounds like you need to let him go,” Dad announced.
“What?” I shouted into the phone.
“If Tate is willing to do as you say, to throw away your friendship in order to get ahead, then it might be best if you let him.”
“But I don’t?—"
“Your father’s right. You love him, Reed.”
A lump formed in my throat and refused to budge.
“I never said anything about that,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to. I’m your mother. And I can hear it in your voice every time you talk about Tate. You have a soft spot for wounded things, and from what you’ve told me about him, I’d say Tate is all that and more. But you don’t want to get trampled while he makes his way to the top. If he wants to let you go, you need to let him. If he really is your friend, if he cares about you at all, you’ll find a way back to each other in time.”
“Mom—”
“There’s a time to let go and a time to fight, and son, it’s not time to fight,” Dad added. “You can’t figure this shit out for him. He has to find out for himself.”
“But I can’t just… I mean, the thought of?—”
Fuck, the thought of letting Tate go was unthinkable.
I couldn’t breathe.
“I can’t tell you what to do, of course—” Dad started.
“Even though you just did,” I snarked. “Both of you.”
“Don’t be fresh with your parents,” Mom teased.
“Sorry.”
“You know in your gut what’s right. Even if your heart is saying something else, your gut is the one you need to pay attention to,” Mom reminded me. “You love hard, Reed, just like me, just like your dad. But the first person you need to give that love to, is yourself.”
My parents, of course, were right.
But that didn’t make facing the truth any easier.
Tate
“I said cut goddamn it! Jesus Christ, how many takes do we need? I’ve seen more emotion from a freaking mannequin. What a fucking waste of reel!”
Neal’s booming voice had everyone on set, me included, silenced. I shook my head, sweat slipping down my face, hell, all over my body. And it wasn’t from the heat of the set lights.
Neal got up off his chair and up in my face.
“What the fuck was that, Tate? I need to see your rage! All I’m getting from you right now is petulant angst. What kind of a male lead are you? Can you actually perform in this role or are you just wasting my fucking time?”
I could take raised voices without flinching, but the minute someone (anyone except Reed) stepped into my personal space, especially in anger, I was done. My heart was pounding so fast I thought for sure I was gonna drop dead any moment.
“You hear the tone of my voice?! This is the kind of anger I’m talking about!” Neal screamed, so close I could smell the stale coffee on his breath. “Ten-minute break. Everyone, get the hell off my set!”
