Chapter Text
I skipped the Met Gala. Just... wasn’t in the mood. But Mike kept saying I needed to show up, to network, if I still wanted to make this acting thing work.
And I do. I really do.
I just... hate everything that comes with it, the exposure, the noise, the constant feeling that you can’t just be.
No space to be normal, to enjoy things without wondering who’s watching, who’s taking pictures, or listening in when you’re just trying to talk to your friends or your family. Like when someone found out she left me. That night, it was everywhere. All over the internet. Everyone took a little piece of it — of me — and somehow that made it all hurt worse.
That’s why I skipped straight to the after-party. If I had to end up online, at least it wouldn’t be under the flashbulbs and red-carpet chaos.
As I was driving to Rockefeller Center, it hit me — I had no idea who was actually gonna be there. Just a bunch of big-name artists I didn’t even know personally. What if there wasn’t anyone I knew? No one I could actually talk to, or feel comfortable around. Someone who’d make it easier to get through the night, to meet people, to smile, to not look like I’d rather be home playing Call of Duty or something. I should’ve at least texted Renné to ask if she was going. Damn it. I was so caught up in my own head I didn’t even think about it.
Well... too late now. I was already parking. I was there. Time to suck it up and get through the night.
………
As I walked into the Rainbow Room, something hit me, something I couldn’t quite explain. The last time I’d been at an event like this, she was with me. I wasn’t alone. Whenever she was around, I felt grounded. Like home.
Now? I had no idea where to even start. Who do I talk to? Which table do I sit at? Wait, do I even want to sit down? Shit. I’d barely arrived, and I already wanted to leave.
I forced a smile as I moved through the room, nodding at a few familiar faces, Billie Eilish, and some woman beside her I didn’t recognize. Then Ed Sheeran stopped by to say hi. We chatted for a bit. Funny thing, it was the second time we’d randomly bumped into each other at one of these things.
When he left to talk to someone else, I probably should’ve done the same. Instead, I found an empty seat at a quiet table. It was just me and this shy-looking woman who clearly wasn’t from the industry. She had that “plus-one who got abandoned” energy. I kind of felt bad for her. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk or just be left alone, so I stayed quiet and ordered a drink.
My eyes drifted across the room. If she were here, I wouldn’t just be sitting and watching. She was sunlight, always made things easier. I’ve never been great at talking to strangers, but at these events, it’s part of the job. She’d always help me loosen up, just by being her—warm, effortless.
That’s when I saw Taylor Swift. I’ve never actually spoken to her, but it’s wild how much of my career is tied to hers. Every time I hear one of her songs, I think of Conrad Fisher, Cousins Beach, The Summer I Turned Pretty.
And then, next to her, I saw her. That smile. I’d recognize it anywhere.
Before I even knew what I was doing, I was already walking toward her, like my feet had decided for me.
“Lola?”
She looked at me.
“Oh… what?! Chris?!”