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"You know how these things can spiral out of control, right? You should set the record straight before it gets out of hand."
Even though I can hear the worry in his tone, I scoff, dismissing his worries with a wave of my hand.
"Please, it's all just a ploy for attention. Trust me, I'm not losing any sleep over it."
The media loves to talk about my rebellious days, always casting me as the bad boy. Every single scandalous headline, every rumor of a fling, they all help to create a persona that’s easy to sell. They love to paint me as a bad boy, and the public loves it.
Chris sighs, clearly unconvinced. "Well, just be careful, okay? You know how the media loves to twist things."
I nod, even though he can't see me through the phone. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Thanks for looking out for me, man. I appreciate it."
What must Marissa think of me now, with all these rumors swirling around? Does she believe them? Does she see me as the man the media portrays me to be?
The very thought of her soft blue eyes looking at me with distrust and disappointment makes my stomach churn.
Chapter 9
Marissa
Eight Years Ago
I sat in our secret spot, a hidden clearing deep within the woods that bordered our town. Lost in the pages of my favorite novel, I didn't hear Bryce approach until he was just a few feet away.
When I looked up, I was shocked by the anger and pain etched on his face. His hands were clenched into fists, and his jaw was tight with barely contained rage. I had never seen him like this before.
"Bryce, what's wrong?" I asked, setting my book aside and standing to meet him.
He paced back and forth, his eyes blazing with fury. "My father," he spat, his voice trembling with emotion. "He said if I don't giveup on my dreams and do what he wants, he'll kick me out. He called my passion for acting a 'foolish waste of time' and said I'll never amount to anything."
My heart broke for him. I knew how much his father's approval meant to him, even though their relationship had always been strained. I reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm.
"Bryce, you know that's not true. You have so much talent, so much potential. Don't let anyone, not even your father, make you feel unworthy."
He looked at me then, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. At that moment, I realized I couldn't hold back my feelings any longer. The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
"Bryce, I ... I care about you. More than just as a friend. You're not unworthy, you're incredible, and I ... I love you."
The silence that followed was deafening. Bryce stared at me, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. I could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to process my confession. But instead of the joy or relief I had hoped for, I saw something else flicker in his eyes: panic.
Without a word, he turned and fled, leaving me standing alone in our secret clearing.
My heart shattered into a million pieces. I didn't understand what had happened or why he had reacted that way. All I knewwas that I had poured out my heart to him, and he had rejected me.
He never came back.
Present Day
I shake my head, wanting to forget the memory before entering the art gallery.
As I enter the art gallery, the vibrant energy of Maeve's exhibition greets me. Her stunning creations adorn the walls, each piece offering a window into her soul.
Maeve is super talented, and I'm really proud that she has come this far. Cindy and I maneuver our way through the crowd, our eyes scanning the room for her. We spot her in the corner, a radiant smile lighting up her face as she chats animatedly with a group of admirers.
"Wow, Maeve really outdid herself with this one," Cindy remarks, her eyes wide with appreciation.
I nod in agreement, my heart swelling with pride for my talented friend. "She's always had a way with colors and shapes. It's amazing to see her work on display like this."
As we approach Maeve, she spots us and waves enthusiastically.