Under the Lights

“Eh, this kinda stuff always blows over. I’ve been in the tabloids a billion times for all kinds of stupid shit, and then someone else does something dumber and no one cares anymore.”

“This kinda shit always blows over for you,” I point out. “Sort of like when Liam and I ‘broke up’ and everyone was all psyched to see him return to bachelorhood while I was the sad and pathetic dump-ee? This business is a little different when you have a dick. And thanks, but it’s already hard enough for me.”

“It’s hard for you?” he says in disbelief. “You realize you’re a lead in a primetime network show, right?”

“Um, hi?” I gesture at my face. “How many Asian actors did you see on the cover of Vanity Fair’s latest Rising Young Hollywood issue? When’s the last time you saw an Asian actor carry a movie that wasn’t about martial arts? My only shot at being in a rom-com is getting thirty seconds of one of those massive ensemble things like…St. Patrick’s Day. So, yeah, it’s hard for me, and I really don’t need anything making it harder.”

It’s only as the last word of my rant leaves my mouth that I realize I’ve made up more of my mind than I thought. And when I feel Bri stiffen next to me, I know she realizes it too.

I can’t come out. Not now; maybe not ever. Not if I want a shot in hell at making it in this business. Being Korean-American is a big enough strike against me, but Korean and gay? I might as well toss my SAG card in a wood chipper.

“I should get you to Zander,” she says tightly, nodding to the bag in my hands. “Come on, Josh. Let’s leave her to get dressed.”

It feels like an extra dig, watching her walk out rather than teasing me into letting her stay and watch. Not that we’re at the clothes-off stage. Or at any stage, really. I mean, be real, I lecture myself as I dig into the bag and pull out a denim miniskirt and black T-shirt. It was a drunken makeout. I yank off the boxers and slide on the skirt; it hangs low on my hips, but it fits. Just because I liked it doesn’t mean I need to make things worse by imagining it was more than it is.

I pull Josh’s T-shirt up over my head and reach for Bri’s. I’m going to talk to Zander. I slip it on over my head, inhaling the pleasant scent of detergent. I’m going to talk things out with him. I’m not going to do this purity pledge thing with him until things between us are stronger, and if that means things are over, then things are over. I’d rather be single.

As I turn to the mirror, I’m feeling good. I’m feeling strong. Like I can conquer anything if I just play things right.

And then I see that the T-shirt I’m wearing isn’t a plain black one after all. The letters “NIN” are clearly visible in the light. It’s the shirt she was wearing the night I awkwardly reached out and touched her tummy in the yoga studio.

Seems she really hadn’t minded.

Just like that, all my newfound self-assurance breaks. I may be an actress, but I can tell the difference between real and fake. And what I feel for Bri is definitely the former, even if I can’t do anything about that.

Good thing I’m a pretty solid actress, because I’m about to put on one hell of a show.

Chapter Nineteen Josh

I watch from my window as K-drama drives off through the crowd of paparazzi, refusing to get within a thousand feet of that mess while she’s around. I feel sorta bad that this sucks for her, but having people banging down my door for interviews isn’t the worst thing in the world for me.

Holly wants to capitalize on the interest right away, so I’ve already got my first interview set up for this afternoon. She’s convinced that all people need is to see my face again, in connection with something that doesn’t have to do with reality TV, and then suddenly scripts will fall into my lap, or something. I’m not sure I even want that, but at least it’s something to do.

By the time I’m done getting ready, I’m already running late, but I look so damn good I highly doubt anyone will mind. Holly greets me at the studio and all but shoves me into a chair opposite Gavin Lawrence, Smarm to the Stars. A cute little blonde runs over and powders my face; Gavin’s already wearing plenty. Then he smiles, and so do I, and it’s on.

“The elusive Josh Chester!” The smile grows even bigger. It’s like the fucking Hollywood sign of teeth. “You’ve been a busy man lately. First, those new Aspen ads — which look great, by the way. Then joining Liam Holloway and Vanessa Park for an arc on Daylight Falls, and now a reality show…”