Page 102 of Fangirl

Landon cocks his head. “Jake, come on. You’re twenty-six, in your prime. If this happens, you’ll be carrying two major franchises. You won’t have time to sneeze, let alone have any project on the side. We’re talking four, five years minimum—locked down.”

My stomach twists. “What aboutEverything That Follows?”

Landon snorts, a low, grating sound that makes my jaw clench. “That little indie film? Please don’t tell me you were serious about that. It’s barely paying a hundred grand.” He smirks, tossing up air quotes. “I know you wanted to ‘show your range’ or whatever… but what’s the point now? You’re set. No need to waste your time proving anything to anyone.”

And just like that… something curdles in my chest.

Technically, he’s right. I don’t need that film. I don’t need to play the man broken by life, finding a daughter he never knew existed, let alone one with a disability, and learning how to love her the way she deserves.

But god, I wanted that movie.

It’s the kind of film Amy would watch with tears in her eyes. The kind of story that would make her proud, thatwould makemeproud.

“Don’t turn it down,” I hear myself say, quieter than I meant to.

Landon blinks. “What? But Gordon?—”

“I know. Just… don’t. Not yet.”

Landon sighs heavily, already annoyed. “Fine. But I’m telling you right now, I’m turning it down tomorrow. With the perks Gordon’s offering, walking away from that deal would be absurd.”

I finally stand, forcing a smile. “Well… thanks for the hard work. As always.”

He laughs, already reaching for his phone. “And thank you for making me an even richer man.”

I glance back once, lingering in the doorway. “You know, Landon… money’s not everything.”

The man actually bursts out laughing. “Yeah, good one. I’ll call you after the meeting.”

And just like that, the moment’s gone. He’s already on to his next client, his next million-dollar deal.

And I’m left standing there, craving something real like a lifeline. Something I know damn well is five thousand miles away. The most real thing I’ve had since I moved to LA.

By the time I make it down to the parking garage, I’m already pulling out my phone. She’s the first person I want to tell—always. Good, bad… doesn’t matter. She’s my first thought, my first call.

But now? I stare at the screen, thumb hovering over her name, and realize… I don’t know if I can tell her. And that’s when it hits me harder than anything else how deep the distance runs.

Not just the miles between us, but the fracture in what we had. That gap hurts.

Joseph Gordon wants me. Every actor’s dream. A career-making, nine-figure deal. And it doesn’t feel like a triumph. It feels like defeat.

Because the only thing I want is probably sitting in her tiny London flat, eating some sad Tesco ready meal, still pretending like I’m not in her blood the way she’s in mine.

Still pretending she doesn’t need me the way I need her.

And maybe… maybe it’s not pretending. Maybe she really doesn’t.

And that thought? That thoughtunravelsme.

I don’t even know why I’m doing what I do next.

I promised I’d make this easy. Promised I’d give her space, let her come to me. Take the high road.

But I can’t. Not anymore.

I type without thinking, my heart hammering, and my breath shallow.

Me: I love you, Fangirl. The distance is killing me. I know forgiveness takes time, but this feels endless. I just… I need to know there’s still something there. Something worth hoping for. I’m breaking, love.