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Chapter Forty-Six

Cameron

“Cameron! Hello, earth to Cameron!”

Blinking, my surroundings come back to focus. Some woman is waving her hand in front of my face.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re up,” she snaps, gesturing to the set.

I force a smile as I move toward it, stepping onto the plush carpet and turning to face the cameras. Some guy runs over and moves me around, posing me just the way he likes. People shout things at me. Smile. Don’t smile. Look here. Look there. Turn this way. Face that way.

I go along with the cues on autopilot, just wanting to get the hell out of here.

When I’d heard about the Dior ad, I was thrilled. Austen was thrilled for me. Yet, here it is and it feels terrible because I feel terrible. Nothing about this is fun, knowing Austen is no longer in my life.

How did I deal with this last time?

I didn’t, I guess. Not for a really long time. I was devastated after Vegas. Buried myself in work, which was easy at the time because I was doing movie cameos and modeling gigs and all sorts of stuff that had me here and there. Sometimes I was in three different countries in one week. It was fun, exciting, and easy to lose myself in because it was new.

Now? The thrill is gone. This is just a mundane job to me, one that I don’t really care about anymore. Not enough to keep my mind from Austen.

When I leave the set, I head back to my hotel for the rest of the afternoon. I’m in Paris and I should be enjoying it, yet I don’t want to do anything but hide away and sleep. I stare at my phone to figure out what time it is back home and if Austen would be awake. And if he is, what he’s doing.

I should call him again.

I’ve called him every day since he left. At first, it was multiple times. Now, it’s just once. Just one time to let him know that I’m not giving up, but giving him his space. I’m hoping one of these days he’s going to answer. He’s probably awake by now; he always was an early bird.

I find his contact and press on the phone button, then put it on speaker and lay it on my chest as it rings. When the voicemail picks up, I end the call and put my phone on the end table.

He’s never going to forgive me for this. Why did I risk us? I finally had everything I wanted, and I risked it over something so stupid. Something that doesn’t even make sense now. Even if I was the one who told him about Savannah, it wasn’t me who was hurting him. But I didn’t want him to hurt at all… not after he’d been doing so well after showing up on my doorstep all those weeks ago.

I have one more shoot to do here tomorrow and I’m heading home right after it. I was supposed to stay longer, but I don’t want to. I just want to go home and wallow in solidarity.

My phone dings and my chest gets all warm as I reach for it. Whenever my phone goes off, I hope for the best but expect the worst. This time, it’s neither. Just my new friend.

How’s Paris?

Sucks.

The fuck? It’s Paris, how does it suck?

*middle finger emoji*

Isn’t it like 3am there? Why aren’t you sleeping?

Just leaving the clurrrrb

You’re an idiot.

Love you too, bro.

So, that’s an unexpected friendship, if I’ve ever seen one. Met up with the guy to sleep with him, and we end up sharing this traumatic event. Well, traumatic for me. Doubt JJ cares about it. But we’ve texted just about every day since I told him, and it’s nice having a friend. Haven’t really had much of those lately—or at all, I guess. It’s difficult in this line of work to be friends with anyone. You don’t know who you can trust, never mind who you can consider a friend. But JJ is cool and has a ton of his own problems to deal with, so it’s kind of nice that we can just talk without any expectations. I mean, if I thought my love life was bad, his is terrible. And there’s just something about him that I trust.

Go to bed. I’ll talk to you tomorrow

Night, night.

I lie in bed for a while, then force myself up to shower and order room service. I pick at the food even though it’s delicious, I just don’t have an appetite. Eventually I fall asleep and wake way too early.

I pack all my things after getting dressed and ready for the shoot, then head to the set. Everything goes by in a blur. Before I know it, I’m at the airport and preparing to go home. Not that there’s anything better there, it’s just an empty apartment, but I guess it’s better than being in the city of love when my heart is completely shattered.