Page 139 of Fangirl

He settles into the seat beside me with the ease of someone who’s lived enough to stop rushing. Then he turns, his eyes clear and kind and sharp all at once.

I notice the worn gold ring on his finger. No flash, no statement. Just a simple band, dulled with time but never taken off. A quiet testament to forty years of love in a world that burns through people faster than it does scripts.

I want that.God,I want that.

“Let me give you a piece of wisdom, kid,” he says. “No one has it all. That’s a myth. A lie, really—sold to you from the day you’re born so you’ll keep chasing something that doesn’t exist.”

I blink. “But… you seem so happy. Content.”

“I am. Blissfully so.” He nods. “But it didn’t come without sacrifices.”

He leans back, fingers tapping the armrest absently.

“Not all the choices you make will be easy. Some will hurt like hell. And you will screw up. God knows I did. But I always tried to choose what I believed in, truly believed in.And people be damned.”

I stay quiet. Listening.

“You come to a crossroads, where the options are disappointing other people… or disappointing yourself?” He looks at me then, dead on. “Choose them. Every time. You can live with a wrong decision made for the right reasons. But one made to please the crowd, one that betrays what you knew was right?” He shakes his head slowly. “That’s the kind of regret that festers.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” I murmur, more to myself than him. I reach for the espresso in front of me, take a sip, and try my best not to wince at the bitter hit. “How did Lola deal with all that? Must’ve been easier without all the social media noise.”

He laughs, the sound low and amused. “Okay, we got married in the early eighties, not the eighteen hundreds. Maybe it wasn’t instant like now, but trust me, those gossip rags were housewife gospel and every bit as venomous.” He shakes his head fondly. “But my Lola? She’s my rock. Took a special kind of woman to love a man like me—like us. But when she knew me—really knew me—there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could print or say that could touch her.”

He pauses, looking at me with quiet weight. “But that only works if you show her who you are. All of you. No masks. No stage lights.”

I open my mouth, then close it again. The words sit heavy in my throat, too raw to speak yet.

He smiles gently. “But you asking the question?” He taps the table once, light but firm. “Means you already know the answer.”

“Jake?”

Iglance up to see Landon standing at his office door, motioning me in.

Bob claps my shoulder once. “Go do your thing, kid. And if you ever want to talk career or film… go see Miranda. She’ll give you my details.”

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it. “You’re right. I know what I have to do.”

He nods. “We usually do. We’re just too scared to actually do it.”

I walk into Landon’s office, my spine straight and heart pounding. Bracing for impact.

“It’s actually great you’re here,” Landon says, already flipping through a folder. “Gordon’s team sent over the main contract terms. All we need is your sig?—”

“I’m not doing it.”

He pauses mid-sentence, frowning. “Not doing what?”

“Signing,” I say. “I’m not doing the film.”

He scoffs, sitting back like I just told him I’m moving to Mars. “Okay. What is this? Some kind of stunt? You want more points on the back end? A better clause on merchandising?”

“No,” I say again, steady this time. “I’m not doing it.”

He stares at me. Then blinks. “Are you drunk? High? Have you completely lost your mind?”

There it is.

“No,” I say quietly. “I’m just finally doing the right thing. I’m pickingEverything That Follows.”