Page 173 of Dream On

She flicks a dismissive hand. “We both know age is just a number in this city. We’re all forced to grow up fast.”

“Um…” As Rudy stares at her, his attention flicks to me, standing behind them. He does a double take, straightening his posture, rubbing a hand through his hair. “You know, I’ve got that thing I need to get to—”

“How about we just call it what it was,” I interject, pulling up from the wall, my throat on fire.

My mother whips around, her face going white when she spots me. “Lexington.” She clears her throat, fiddling with the zipper on her tracksuit. “Why don’t you help us chop these—”

“You can go, Rudy.” I send him a heavy look, my limbs vibrating with tension and rage.

Empathy shimmers in his eyes as he bows out, wiping his hands on a dish towel and retreating to the front door. “Yeah, man. Give me a call if you need anything.”

My eyes trail to my mother as she leans back against the counter, her gaze pinned on the porcelain floor.

The door claps shut.

Silence sounds, heightening the pounding of my betrayed heart.

She knew.

She fucking knew.

Chapter 42

Lex

Age nine

“Oh wow!”

I feel like I’m in Disney World.

I’ve never been to Disney World—Mom says it’s a circus created for children with simple minds and wild imaginations.

I guess I’ll never know, but this feels exactly how I imagined it.

She squeezes my sweaty hand and crouches down to my level. Taking me by the shoulders, she spins me around to face her, her green eyes wide and starlike. “Lexington, this is the set you’ll be working on. What do you think?”

Blinking, I glance around the busy set. It’s a madhouse of color and motion—vivid backdrops, towering lighting rigs, and bustling crew members darting around like bees. Everything is loud, from the whir of cameras to the chatter of actors and directors.

The juice box commercial I was in was nothing like this.

“I love it.” I can hardly catch my breath, and the words fall out like whispers. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“It’s real.” Mom swoops back my honey-blond bangs, dusting her thumb along my forehead. “You’ve earned this. You’ve worked so hard.”

The sitcom is supposed to be a modern-dayFull Housewith a mystical element.When the director told me about the parallel, I spent weeks watching every single episode, taking notes.

I’m the lead role—a boy named Jack who discovers he has the rare ability to communicate with animals. Each episode revolves around Jack’s adventures with his new furry friends, who often help him solve mysteries and navigate the challenges of growing up.

Pulling me into her arms, my mother rubs my back, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I’m so proud of you. This is the start of something big.”

I nod because I feel it too.

This is going to change my life.

I see it now: walking down a red carpet with flashing cameras and cheering fans. I imagine winning awards and giving interviews, where everyone asks about my favorite superhero and my favorite movie scenes. I picture myself on a big stage, accepting an Oscar, with Mom clapping and crying in the front row. I don’t know if my dad will be there. He’s hardly ever around, and when he is, he’s grumpy. But Mom will be there. She’s my number one fan.

I wouldn’t be here without her.