Lissa's POV
My hands moved in automatic circles, scrubbing at imaginary dirt. My phone buzzed; it was a notification from Instagram. What sort of actress had fewer than a hundred followers? Well, that was me. It was a comment from an anonymous user. Yes, the username was just anonymoususer05.
The caption?
"Hey guys, so I starred for at least five minutes, check this movie out!"
The anonymous comment popped up immediately: "Just five minutes, but you were the show."
I chuckled. Of course, it was Jeremy. My eyes flicked toward the clock; it was almost nine, and neither Jeremy nor Liam had returned yet. I sighed as I returned to my cleaning.
I didn't even know how many hours I had been cleaning when the door burst open. Yeah, I knew exactly who it was—someone who always barges in without knocking, as if he owns the place.
"Mom! Jeremy bought me a pink toy again!"
Liam burst through the door, his backpack half-unzipped, and his small face twisted in anger. He was six years old and already had opinions on everything.
I almost burst into laughter at his expression, but I tried to suppress it, noticing how serious he looked.
"They were on sale," Jeremy said, following behind with a grocery bag in each arm. "And it was relatively cheap. You just wanted the ones with the cartoon on the box."
"I don't like them! Pink is for girls!"
"That is scientifically not—" Jeremy stopped when he saw my face. "How long have you been cleaning?"
Jeremy set the bags down and gently took the rag from my hand. "It's Friday. You always do this on Fridays."
"Do what?"
"Clean things that are already clean. Stare at walls. Forget to eat." He sighed and came toward me. "Talk to me."
Liam had already abandoned his grievance, sprawled on a mat on the floor with a coloring book, his tongue poking out in concentration. He was drawing something, though it was hard to make out.
"There's nothing to talk about," I said.
"The restaurant made a lot of profit last month. At least we shouldn't be scared about rent."
"That's not it."
"The small part in that indie film—the one Megan said she'd get you—is shooting next week. You'll be on screen for maybe ten minutes. That's ten minutes more than last year."
"An improvement, right?" I chuckled dryly.
If anyone had told me this would be my life at 26, I would have jailed that person and their entire generation. I thought by 26 I would already be a worldwide star. Delusional. Very delusional girl. Well, at least I'm alive, and there is hope. There is a popular saying, right? Where there is life, there is hope.
Jeremy reached across the table and took my hand. He was the only person who touched me without wanting something, without measuring my worth in dollar signs or Instagram followers. He was the only person who knew most things about me, but not everything though. I don't think I'd ever tell anyone.
"You're not fine," he said quietly. "But you will be. I promise you, Lissa. One day, you will be. I want to see you smiling wholeheartedly, not these fake ones."
He took Liam from the mat, taking him upstairs.
Happy? Yes, I am. I have Liam in my life, Jeremy my helper. Who else do I need? Jeremy is my roommate. He's gay and one of the best things that have ever happened to me.
I wiped a tear threatening to fall from my eyes.
"You're strong, girl. You're strong."
My eyes darted toward the TV. My friend's face was displayed on the screen—Megan, one of the top rising actresses. Who doesn't love Megan? Well, only devils. My bestie, who has always had my back since high school. Even when I decided to leave the country, and cut ties with her later on, returning years later, she didn't question me. She welcomed me with open arms. She has also been the one helping me secure movie roles.
Was I jealous of her? Well, maybe yes. If I had taken my dream seriously, maybe if I wasn't too foolish then, maybe if I didn't betray him… And talking of him, the show switched from Megan to him—Sebastian, one of the youngest billionaires in the UK. The news stated that he had already arrived in New York. Well, I saw the news not long ago that he is coming over to New York for a business deal. Everyone was doing well—everyone, except me.
Well, the probability of me seeing him was as slim as ever.
It was almost closing time, but since no one seemed to be coming, I decided to close for the day. But that was when the doorbell chimed.
"We're already closed for the day," I said, not removing my eyes from the TV. My hand was already aching from cleaning. I just wanted to go upstairs, take off this apron, and collapse into bed.
The footsteps didn't stop.
I frowned. "I said we're—"
My voice died immediately.
He was standing in the doorway.
The bell chimed again as the door swung shut behind him, but I barely heard it. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, and the sudden pounding of my heart against my ribs.
Sebastian Campbell.
He was here.
In my restaurant.
He looked exactly like he did on the news I'd been watching not long ago—the same gray suit, the same eyes that used to look at me like I was the only person that mattered. But now those eyes were fixed on me, and there was nothing soft in them. He looked completely soulless, no emotions at all.
He didn't say a word. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, watching me carefully.
The television was still on. I could hear the newscaster's voice, still talking about his arrival.
The irony almost made me laugh—or cry. I wasn't sure which.