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She was spinning out. She knew she was spinning out.

Why had Ashley said it? I missed you. What the hell did that mean? How did she mean it? Was it just a flippant comment, or was she trying to tell Molly something?

Don’t read into it, she told herself. You can miss your childhood dog. It doesn’t mean you wanna shag it.

This was precisely why Molly’s first instinct had been to say no. She had moved on. And she knew full well that sitting opposite that set of cheekbones and those long, guitar-calloused fingers could only yield confusion and mixed signals.

And possibly acting work?

Molly snatched her phone off the counter and dialled her agent.

Karen answered on the second ring, sounding like a woman who mainlined black coffee. ‘Molly!’

‘Tis I,’ Molly said, pacing the narrow strip of linoleum between the fridge and the toaster. ‘Look, I’m calling about the... the dinner. The photo. It’s been three days. Has it worked?’

A heavy silence descended on the line.

‘Well,’ Karen sighed, her tone shifting into that maternal register Molly knew all too well as the runway to not-great news. ‘The photos ran in the Mail and The Sun. You looked great, by the way. But... no. Not yet. The metrics are up on your Instagram, but the casting directors aren’t exactly knocking down the door this morning.’

Molly froze, her heart dropping into her slippers. ‘What do you mean, “not yet?”’

‘I mean these things take time, Molly. A single dinner won’t cut it. You’ll probably have to do it a few more times.’

‘A few more times?!’ Molly shrieked, ‘Karen, I can’t. It’s too awkward. You know when people say, “I thought I’d die of embarrassment?” It didn’t feel like hyperbole.’

‘Molly, breathe,’ Karen said sharply. ‘Think about the bigger picture. Actually, it’s funny you called, because something just crossed my desk. It’s a new BBC drama. Six parts, dark comedy, brilliant writing. It’s about two sisters who run a dry cleaners and end up laundering money for local gangsters. One of the sisters is a chaotic, fast-talking character with all the best lines. I read the breakdown, and I literally shouted your name at it.’

Molly’s grip tightened on the phone. ‘Oh god. Really? Have you called them about me?’

‘Yes,’ Karen said flatly. ‘Right now, they’re only looking at people with a certain level of heat. Your name isn’t on their list.’

Molly sighed. ‘Thanks, Karen. Good to know there’s a role I’d be great in but have zero chance of getting. Hey, just a thought but maybe this agent thing isn’t for you?’

‘But!’ Karen interrupted, her voice vibrating with agent-level intensity. ‘If you can get yourself about—if you keep up the visibility with Ashley, make a few more appearances, keep the socials talking—I can leverage that. If you have the heat, they will be more open to a conversation. But you have to give me something to work with.’

Molly looked out the window at the grey London drizzle and thought about the empty refrigerator in her childhood kitchen. She thought about the shithole house she’d shared with way too many people in her young adulthood. The coffee shop that stole her tips and called it, ‘A performance deduction.’

Now, she owned a house in a nice area where neighbours waved hello to you as they got into their BMWs to head off to jobs like dentist and engineer. Her shopping was delivered by Ocado. She had subscriptions to every streaming service. She went on holidays in other continents. If she wanted a new couch, she bought it. Outright!

She’d climbed up. She liked her middle-class life. She liked acting. She wanted this job. She wanted to be an employed actress. Because she was okay now, but if she didn’t find a real job, she wouldn’t be. The money would run out. She’d have to sell up, find normal person work. And she was qualified for nothing but what she did, and barely even that. She’d have to start at the bottom. Maybe be a barista again? Christ.

Why had she gone all-in on the very first round? Why had she acted like things were just going to work out for her? She should have known full well that a streak of good luck was a cruel trick played on you to set you up for the ultimate fall. How many times did she have to learn that lesson? How stupid was she?

But she hadn’t folded yet. She still had one last hand to play. Only, the buy-in was spending time with the woman who broke her heart the first and only time she’d ever been in love.

She let out a long, slow, defeated breath.

‘Fine,’ Molly whispered, her shoulders slumping as she accepted her fate. ‘Tell me where I need to be.’

Five Years Ago

Ashley was a little uptight. She took life seriously. She focused on the details Molly didn’t even see.

Molly liked her.

She liked how Ashley cared about things. Molly barely cared about anything. She just flitted through life. Someone like Ashley was pure refreshment to her. Molly didn’t even realise she was thirsty for it until it was sitting across from her, frowning at a latte. Molly wanted to drink her down to the last drop.

She was halfway through explaining why she was probably gonna give the acting thing six more months, when her phone rang. She glanced at it. ‘USELESS AGENT’. She turned on the silent ring.