Page 98 of Broken Beyond Repair

“I have.”

The audience clapped as Beatrice gave her most humble smile.

“And they’ve asked you to present an award?”

“They have indeed.”

“Will you be bringing a plus one? I know you recently went public with finalising your divorce.” The host surveyed the crowd and gave a smarmy eyebrow waggle. “Beatrice Russell is back on the market, everyone!”

The crowd cheered and clapped with even more enthusiasm than they had about her Academy Award nomination.

Beatrice blushed and took a deep breath. “Well, I did meet the most amazing person over the summer.”

Sydney’s heart rate picked up so quickly she placed a hand over it to stop it from beating its way out of her.

The talk show host edged closer to Beatrice over the desk. “A summer romance? Tell me more.”

“Ooooh.” The audience continued their participation.

“I wouldn’t go that far. But, you know, summer romances are what they are — over in the autumn.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“She,” Beatrice corrected him. Then she seemed to freeze, poised for the inevitable reaction.

The audience drew in a collective breath whilst the host held his hands to his chest.

“What the fuck!” slipped from Sydney’s mouth as she backed herself against the wall, sliding down it to the floor before her legs gave way.

“So if my career makes a nosedive now, you’ll know why,” Beatrice said through a nervous laugh.

“So you are well and truly back on the market, and open to everyone?” the host asked.

“Perhaps just one.”

What did she mean by that? Did she mean her?

“But I felt I needed to bring this up,” Beatrice said. “We don’t talk enough about our differences, not in a positive way anyway. Hollywood has always been so toxic and will continue to be so if we don’t challenge it.”

Sydney watched in awe as Beatrice took control of the situation.

The host withdrew his phone from inside his suit jacket and mock-answered it.

“Hello? Oh, it’s for you. The awards administrators say they are withdrawing their offer.”

Beatrice howled with laughter. “You joke, but I am now anticipating that call. You know, so many excellent television shows and films are completely ignored when it comes to awards, just because they have LGBTQ+ characters and cast. Actresses expertly portray notable historical lesbian characters and are completely overlooked. Hundreds of actors are hiding their identity, their own existence, for fear of reprisals from people who own their careers. Well, I say: fuck off!” As the censor bleeped out the curse, Beatrice stood and threw her hands into the air. “It’s time to stand up and be counted — hashtag #OutAndProud. The more there are of us, the louder we can tell them to fuck off. We exist, and if you don’t like it, then tough. We have a population in fear of a population we couldn’t like less, who bully us into hiding.”

Sydney wiped a tear from her cheek; she didn’t even realise she was crying at Beatrice’s words.

“So are you going to boycott awards season?”

“No, but I’m sure as hell going to make as much noise as possible,” Beatrice replied, laughing as she scooped her dress around her legs and reclaimed her seat.

Sydney had never felt so proud of someone. All she wanted to do was kiss the woman. Beatrice had indeed just started a media shitstorm. She was so different, so confident. It was a side Sydney had not seen before. It was Beatrice the celebrity and actress, but this time, she wasn’t pretending. She was being herself, and she was heading home. With a quick time zone calculation she realised she needed to get her skates on.

Making her way back inside the theatre, Sydney gave her mum a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sorry, Mum. I’ve got to go. For the first time in my life, I know where I want to be.”