Page 166 of Charming Like Us

I try not to laugh.

Out of everyone in the families, I thought Jane’s fourteen-year-old sister would be the most upset that Oscar Oliveira is no longer single. She had an enormous crush on him, but she was one of the first to post her support on social media.

Giselle, a camera operator, is assigned to Jane while she’s in the dressing room.

So I walk over to a refreshment table and film Maximoff.

He fills up a glass of ice water from a pitcher and sees me more than the camera. “Jack Highland survives another day.”

“I’m hanging on,” I say lightly, shifting so no mirrors catch sight of me in footage.

“Have you heard from the other producers?” In the lens, I see his sharp cheekbones and forest-green eyes simultaneously toughen and soften.

“Not yet.” I stop recording for a sec. “Whatever they decide, I think it’ll come down to the integrity of the docuseries.” I explain how beyond the public outrage, they’re still saying I’m too close to the subjects and too much a part of the narrative.

I’ve also considered how this is changingBorn into Fame.What story am I telling if I leave out the Oslie rumors and my involvement? Both are a part of Charlie’s life.

Maximoff stares off, thinking for a long beat. “If there’s anything else I can do, I’m here.”

“Thanks, Moffy.”

“Have you told Oscar yet about what you told me?”

That. “Not yet.” It was easier letting out my secret to Maximoff, Jane, and Sulli. I knew they could relate in a way. I’m not sure about Oscar’s reaction. I shake out my arm that’s been flexed holding the gimbal. “You see on YouTube Kingly almost broke Phelps’ record for 200m freestyle? It wassweet.”

“Yeah. He has to be part fish or secretly Aquaman.”

I smile more and catch sight of another camera operator giving me a stink-eye. I’m in a cutthroat field. Jealousy is behind-the-back, not to the face. A lot is directed at me because I’m young and in a high-ranking position. And now I’m shooting the shit with a subject.

Fantastic. Give them more reason to fire you, dude.

“Rolling,” I tell Maximoff as I switch the camera back on. I pan over the dessert spread, petit fours and chocolate turtles; I capture some of the women waiting for the bride-to-be, then zoom back on Moffy. “How do you feel about being Jane’s man of honor?”

He’s the only guy from the famous families invited today.

And his lips slowly lift into a wide, heartfelt smile. Before he can answer me, a collection of awed noises erupts from the couches.

I focus the frame on Jane.

She shuffles out in a mint-green dress, pink fabric flowers embroidered in the bust. Rose Calloway trails behind Jane with a determined, focused gaze and helps her daughter step onto a circular podium.

Audrey places a hand to her heart. “Oh Jane, you look positively lovely.”

Family members shout praises and opinions. Talking over each other so much that I lose track of who says what. After ten minutes, the consensus comes in: too green, even though Jane requestedno white dress.

Rose purses her lips. “I can change the color, if you like the style.”

Jane slides her hands down the fabric. “I think…maybe let’s try another one? It needs more tulle.”

“Then more tulle is what you’ll get.” Rose whisks her daughter back to the dressing room. Giselle follows with her Canon.

I turn back to Moffy since he’s nearest. “Did Jane’s mom design all the dresses?”

He nods. “All ten options.”

We’re only on option 3.

I struggle not to glance at my watch. Dejection, I feel it. As much as I enjoy being around Jane and being a part of a milestone in her life, I’ve been having trouble grabbing solid footage of Charlie. Ever sinceWe Are Callowayfilming started, I’ve been pulled in other directions.