“We’re done shooting today.” My voice carries across the set. I stand taller, steadier now that I’ve made my decision. “Your crew has been working fourteen-hour days. They’ve missed birthdays, canceled plans, and pushed through exhaustion. I’ve given everything to this role. And your response is to belittle everyone’s contributions?”
Around me, cases snap shut with deliberate force, equipment dismantling.
“You ungrateful little—” he starts, but I interrupt.
“Consider your next words carefully.” I maintain eye contact, refusing to be intimidated. “This industry is smaller than you think, and I’m not without my own connections.”
My body moves before my brain catches up, feet carrying me along the river, through the redwoods like muscle memory. Branches whip across my face, leaving stinging kisses as walking turns running turns sprinting deeper into the forest.
My lungs burn, but it’s nothing compared to the inferno of rage in my chest. I run until I reach the waterfall on the far side of the lake. The same lake that had me hyperventilating during that panic attack weeks ago, when even the splash of water against my ankles sent me spiraling.
I should’ve seen this coming.
Felix finally revealed what’s actually eating at him—that he, Hollywood’s favorite purveyor of testosterone-soaked explosions, has to acknowledge that women can do more than askWhat do we do now?or die prettily to motivate the male lead.
“I put everything into this!” I strain. “I trained until my muscles screamed. I memorized every word. I faced every fear. I fucking learned to hold my breath underwater. And what am I to them? Just another pretty face with an expiration date!”
My boots kick at loose rocks, sending them skittering into the rushing water. The waterfall looms ahead. I’m left in my leather skirt, leather boots, and leather vest. Yet, for the first time, I feel more like Robyn already.
Kick. Pace.
Four. Seven. Eight.
The mist hits my face in tiny needles of ice. Each step closer makes my heart slam against my ribs like it’s trying to escape.
Heather was right.
Should’ve pulled out when she told me to.Be strategic, she said. Instead, I’m ruining my image, sneaking off set, risking everything I built to become the latest set diva who can’t work with a visionary director.
The studio will bury this movie.
They’ll blame me.
Why wouldn’t they? They sure as hell won’t blame their pal Felix.
I pick up a rock and hurl it at the falls. Then another. And another. Each splash disappears into the thundering white noise, but it feels good.
“After everything I’ve worked for!” I scream at the rushing water. They’re going to fire me. “All because I couldn’t shut up and smile!”
One step forward. My body screams retreat. Another step. The spray hits my bare stomach. Cold. Sharp. Real.
It makes me feel alive.Screw it. I step right into the water until it hits my skin like needles.
Good.Let it hurt.
The falls pound against my shoulders. Like the sound in my head when I read reviews that Geraldine can’t hide from me. When I hear the whispers. When I catch the crew’s pitying glances. When I imagine tomorrow’s headline:Reese Sinclair Melts Down, Tanks Hundred-Million-Dollar Production.
My feet slip on algae-slick rocks. I steady myself. These legs can hold a sword stance for hours. These arms can lift my body weight.
This strength is mine.
Not Felix’s. Never his.
Water streams down my face. Or maybe it’s tears. I can’t tell anymore.
Nothing matters except the scraping in my chest. Everything I’ve worked for, sacrificed—gone in one defiant moment.
What is wrong with me?
