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“I’m crossing my fingers for you,” I tell Kyle even though he hasn’t expressed his thoughts on his nomination.
“Thank you,” he says and doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he takes my hand and keeps it in his. We are quiet on the way, but I’m used to Kyle’s moments of self-reflection.
My mind wanders to my parents, and I miss them with an intensity that leaves me breathless. It would have been fun to tell Mom all about this night, but she probably wouldn’t have enjoyed listening. Even though I told her to stop sending me articles of Kyle or me, she still does, and it drives me crazy. She’ll probably see one of Kyle and me tomorrow and send it to me.
Thank God for Isla. She’s awesome and has been my support when this lifestyle gets to me. She made me promise to tell her everything about tonight, and her excitement was contagious.
We join the long queue of limos waiting to enter the venue. My heart pounds hard in my chest as we get nearer. I feel like an impostor.
The limo inches forward until it’s our turn to get out, right in front of the red carpet. A roar goes up when the fans spot Kyle, and I feel stupidly proud of him. I’m glad for Kyle’s hand on mine, as I’m sure I’d lose my footing and fall from sheer nerves. Cameras go off in our faces as we walk down the red carpet.
“This way, Mr. Bryce!” someone calls.
The words echo everywhere as the camera people jostle for better angles. My eyes grow teary from the flash of what seems to be a million light bulbs.
“Miss, can you please step to the side? We’d like a picture of Bryce alone,” a cameraman in glasses says.
My first reaction is bewilderment as I don’t know where to go. Then a space appears like the parting of the sea. I try to move away from Kyle, but his hand on my waist won’t dislodge.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, and he finally lets go.
I move further down the red carpet and stop. All the focus is on Kyle now, and there’s even a microphone in his face as someone interviews him. I should feel rejected, but I don’t. If anything, I’m relieved to be out of the picture, watching from the sidelines.
It takes another five minutes, and then Kyle is walking toward me. He has a frown on his face, and he takes my hand and puts it in the crook of his arm.
Inside, the room where the awards ceremony is being held is gorgeous, with a high, rounded ceiling and chairs arranged in tiers. An usher shows us to our seats, which are at the very front on the second row. Excitement courses through my veins as I spot celebrities I’ve only ever seen on TV and in movies. Our chairs are next to Godwin Grey, one of the most gifted actors of our generation, and even as Kyle introduces me, I can only manage a squeak in response.
Beautiful music starts to play, signaling that the ceremony is about to start. Then two presenters stroll up to the stage and welcome everyone to the ceremony. I’m dazzled by everything around me, and I hope no camera zooms in on me because I’m sure my jaw is on the floor.
The awards go by fast until we get to Kyle’s category. I’m tense as I listen to the list of nominees. All of them are so good, but Kyle is the best as far as I’m concerned.
Then the winner’s name is called out, and it takes a moment for it to penetrate my brain that Kyle is not the winner. I turn to him in disbelief and indignation. He takes my hand and hauls me to my feet, and on seeing the smile on his face, I plaster one on mine. Our faces fill the huge screen at the front of the room. I’m miserable inside, and after we clap for the winner and sit back down, Kyle glances at me and laughs.
“You should have won,” I say.
“You’re biased, sweetheart,” he says. “Everyone had an equal chance.”
After the best actor award is the best actress and various other ones. After that, it’s over.
Skyler joins us where we are standing around chatting with John Mayor and two directors. She’s so gorgeous, and I’m immediately in awe.
“Darling,” she says to Kyle and hugs him, draping her body all over him.
I swallow down my jealousy and remind myself that he chose me. Kyle pulls me close and introduces me, but she merely glances my way and proceeds to ignore me. She talks shop, which cuts me right off, but I don’t mind. I’m just happy to gape at celebrities and other people I’ve only ever seen on the screen.
