“Holy fuck, Tessa. Where the hell have you been? Everyone is freaking the fuck out right now.”Everyone? Who the hell is everyone?I knew for a fact that the girls in my entourage didn’t give two shits about me; they were only there for the appearance and popularity points.
“Story for another time, just please come get me at The Empress. I need to get out of here… now.” My eyes slowly drifted to the elevator bay behind me, praying to god that Levi didn’t show up before Alex.
“Alright, alright. I’ll be there in five.”
“Five? As in minutes? Where the fuck are you?”
“I called Theodore when I couldn’t find you—”Teddy? He called Teddy?“He said you rarely disappear, but in the past, when you did, you always ended up at The Empress. So I parked nearby in hopes that he’d be right, and he was.”
Tears welled up in my eyes at the notion that Theodore would remember something so trivial about me, or even care to disclose that kind of information to Alex.
“I’ll meet you out back. He mentioned that was your usual rendezvous point.”
“Y-yeah… okay…” My voice cracked as I hung up the phone, wiping a stray tear from my cheek before silently backing away from the front desk and taking flight to the rear entrance.
What an emotional fucking roller coaster of a morning.
AfterAlexhadreturnedme to my home in Malibu, I took a long, hot shower to wash away any remnants of guilt I had left to spare. Once finished, I wrapped myself in a warm, fluffy robe and crash-landed in the center of my bed, curling myself into a fetal position.
I didn’t regret the events of last night; for the first time, I was actually questioning why I had run so fast. What was I so afraid of?
I’ll admit I’d been gradually spiraling for days… weeks… for fucking months, and I felt as though I was finally approaching thebottom of my barrel—my breaking point. Suffocating under the weight of my endless, toxic thoughts of undeserved worth and lapse of judgment that threatened to end me whenever I was left alone.
What would it look like to the public eye if I cozied up to a male revue dancer?
What kind of impression would that give to my character?
Would anyone care? Would they cancel me?
Rolling onto my other side, I stared at the blush pink wig displayed on my vanity. A strange parting gift from Theodore,for the days when you need an easy escape—his cryptic words I could never understand until now.
The idea he’d brought up years ago sounded crazy at first, and I declined his suggestion to wear yet another fake persona just to be myself outside of these walls.
How could I be me if I didn’t look anything like it? What would be the fucking point?
Dragging a pillow over my face, I groaned into it, and as I did, my stomach twisted at the memory of Levi once again. A complete and total stranger who gave me butterflies and left an impression that lingered far longer than anyone else. He somehow found a way to imprint on me just as I had marked myself on his shoulder.
It didn’t feel like a casual encounter as I’d intended it to be—not a simple one-night stand where we forgot each other once it was all over. The two of us left spent and satisfied, one performing the walk of shame.
I couldn’t have him as Hollywood Tessa, not unless I wanted to trash the image I’d sacrificed my soul and sanity to build. But, I could have him as someone else—the real me,only with a fake name and pink hair…
Okay, so not the real me, but I had no other means of compromise. It was the wig or continuing to live this desolate life with nothing left to give, and respectfully, fuck that.
My gaze wandered around the room, taking in all the overpriced items, from my favorite Jimmy Choo shoes to Hermès handbags, as well as Tiffany and Cartier jewelry.
Having everything meant nothing these days.
What was life without true love and genuine affection? Something I’d never have a chance of experiencing if I remained locked away in this world like Rapunzel in her tower.
I wanted more than money could ever buy.
The grass wasn’t greener on this side of the fence; it was fucking fake—all of it.
Tobias and Marissa? They didn’t love each other—like actually fucking love...
They were just pawns in a game of celebrity chess, using one another for admiration and attention. Once their relationship became too boring or irrelevant to the media, they’d split up and find the next person to latch on to—like a fucking parasite for publicity.
That was the cycle of life here.
That was all I would ever see unless I took matters into my own hands.
Took the leap of faith.
And suddenly I found myself running away from everything given to me, before ever allowing someone else to take it away.
Tessa Bradley—America’s sweetheart no more.
RIP.
