Off the Record: Chapters 25–44

It takes about twenty minutes for Penny to find me, during which time I stuff myself full with spinach puffs and shrimp to suppress the guilt.

Telling on Roy Lennox—that’s like willingly becoming a pariah.

“I’m morally obligated to share. It’s big-sister privilege.”

I’m angry and disappointed, but what was I expecting? That he would denounce Roy Lennox and pull out of the movie? The internet hardly has any mentions of the allegations.

I’m angry Marius is able to be so apathetic about this while Penny never had that choice. I’m angry we’re just standing outside a movie theater while Tallulah was crying yesterday.

“I love happy endings,” I say. I don’t know if I’m talking to him or myself.
“My mom doesn’t.” Marius makes a soft sound. “She thinks they’re contrived and unrealistic. I think she likes stories that seem more real than anything.”

Charlotte Hart doesn’t admonish us for ordering the cheapest options on the menu.

I wanted to focus on honing my craft.

My voice wavers, so I clear my throat.

His whole demeanor perks up, tension fading from his shoulders.

But there’s a deeper kind of immersion that happens once you’ve spent some time in the role.

So I can think about a ton of things—like holding his hand and kissing him for real, running a hand through his hair, actually looking at him instead of fleeting glances.

“Come on,” he says, pulling me inside. I draw back, pausing on the threshold.

“Sometimes the things I don’t understand are more beautiful than the things I do.”
God, that was sappy.

I’m not sure how to articulate what I’ve been thinking about.

I feel light-headed, but in a good way, like after I finish an impromptu dance party.

There’s something so intent in his eyes, so earnest, that I can’t just laugh it off.

He claimed you’re working on a story about him, intending to publish some sort of slander from a bunch of angry, vindictive former actresses.

“Everyone knows not to cross him. I mean, you didn’t even do anything, and he accused you of slander. Imagine what would happen if an actual reporter tried to write the story?”

I’ve spent these last few days trying to ignore Marius’s complicity.

“I don’t—” He falters.

Maybe I should add a personal anecdote about what happened to me in middle school at the beginning.

I had it all—top grades, great SAT scores. Is it because I wasn’t in enough clubs? But I had all my writing stuff. I thought that would stand out. And I’m a legacy applicant. Everyone in my family has gone: Grandma, Auntie Denise, Mom, Alice—

“And she’s still part of the family.”
“I’m not—” I huff. “I know I’m not, like, excommunicated if I don’t go. I just really wanted to. That’s all. I wanted it for a long time.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to ever be completely objective,” Monique says slowly. “We should always try to, but I don’t think it can happen. There’s something that pulls you to the story in the first place. And the best stories are the ones where the writers really care.”

I should be happy. Two weeks ago, I would’ve been ecstatic.

By the time we’re ready to leave for the airport, to sit around and wait for our flight later tonight, I check my phone and see I have a barrage of texts from Penny.

“First things first—we need to go through every single line of this story and corroborate what you’ve written.”

“I’m not able to say anything about that,” she says, all bluster.

I would’ve expected a word of warning before you came barging into this office.

“These young ladies have written a formidable story that we are eager to put our support behind,” Tom says, finally stepping in.

“Yeah, but people think you’re interesting,” she says. “They want to know who this wunderkind is. It’s like you’re Harriet the Spy—that’s what I saw on People magazine, anyway. Some people are being idiots about it, though.”

We both know I could never afford the dress. That doesn’t stop me from picking it up, letting it unfurl in graceful folds, holding it up to my body.

The noise of the crowd starts to subside; they’re craning to listen.

He already didn’t want to talk about the allegations during his interview, and Wright felt this was because he didn’t care about anything but his career—a stark contrast to his otherwise kind and compassionate personality.