When I originally got into this industry, the idea was to have some fun and find ways to feel like a VIP even though it wasn’t in my budget. I always loved writing and creating, taking photos and editing. I liked being on social media. And I loved to travel. I found a way to combine those passions into one career.
But it’s different when it’s a job. It’s different when it’s a hobby versus when it’s generating income.
The social side of it has become an obsession, which is something I never realized until I met Archer. He’s theone who pointed it out because he’s the one who saw past all that to the girl inside who’s actually pretty lost when it comes to what I want out of life.
He’s the one who freed me.
And as I stare out at the ocean with my phone somewhere on a table behind me, I can’t help but think that I want to continue to be free from the binds of that life.
So where does that leave me?
If I want to be an influencer, I need to be present to nurture my audience. But I don’t want to be present for the outside world. I want to be present to the insiders, the people I spend my time with.
The problem is that I’ve lost so many of them to this career.
Friends who became jealous, or friends who got married and moved on with their lives. Friends who threw themselves into their own careers. Friends who are moms now when that’s nowhere near the horizon for me.
The only friends I have left are Chip and Jackie and the online network I’ve made because of the time I spend there.
It’s notfunanymore. It lost its luster along the way, and as I think about the offer that’s on the table behind me—probably with my phone perched on top of it—I can’t help but think that while it’s made up of everything I ever wanted, I already know I’m going to decline.
Maybe it’s stupid. Maybe it’s emotional because of how it landed on my lap. Regardless, it doesn’t feel right to take it. I’m not cut out to be ruthless in the pursuit of getting what I want.
I’m not passionate about bartending, but I think I’m at a point where it’s what I have to do while I figure out what comes next for me.
I feel exhausted and achy, like I’m physically wrecked from the heartbreak inside.
It feels like a breakup even though it’s not. But it is. I guess I’m confused with how to label it when there wasn’t actually a breakup since he walked out without giving me that courtesy, but we weren’t ever actually together, either. The only time I was hisgirlfriendwas when we were faking it for Ford and Tatum, but at the same time, it felt real.
The moment I showed up at his side when he was faced with them in a total coincidence was the moment things seemed to change. It was the moment he realized that I wasn’t just some blogger but that I was willing to stand up for him at a time when he felt like he was well and truly alone.
He doesn’t have to be.
I’m still right here.
But I fucked that one up hard and good, and it looks like I’m out of luck when it comes to Archer Bradley.
We should have had four more days enjoying each other, and instead, I trudge through those four days with a fake smile plastered to my face, sunglasses covering my eyes, as I attend more excursions we could have done together.
I decline Diedrick’s offer, and I leave him behind in shock after my parting words. “Thank you for your offer, but I’m going to have to decline. Your VIP guests deserve better than you bribing a travel influencer to post them on social media, and I refuse to partner with a brand that stoops to that level.”
It’s an anticlimactic end to what was in some ways the best and in other ways the worst trip of my entire life.
I board my plane home, exhaustion in my bones and my stomach in knots. I don’t want to leave this place. It’s where I experienced the kind of love I didn’t think I’d ever get to have.
And at the same time, it’s also where it was all yanked away because I decided to put my own needs ahead of someone else’s.
Never again. I willneverdo that again. If I’m ever faced with this sort of decision again in my life, which is unlikely, I will never jeopardize something so precious because I feel backed into a corner.
Lesson learned. An expensive lesson at that.
I take a two-hour flight to Atlanta, during which I delete the video at the root of why he’s so angry with me. There’s no need to keep it on my feed now that I’ve checked out of the resort and fulfilled my contract.
I’m stuck in Atlanta for nearly two hours, and then it’s another two hours to Chicago.
After I land, Chip and Jackie are standing at the bottom of an escalator with a sheet of paper that says “Millie Monroe” on it in black block lettering.
I burst into tears.
