Page 140 of Fangirl

“One hundred and ninety fucking million, Jake!” he shouts. It doesn’t shake me, not even a little.

“And I know what that means for you too,” I add calmly. “Your commission goes from nineteen million to fifty thousand. Let’s not pretend that doesn’t factor into this.”

His eyes flash. “Of course it does. I’ve busted my ass for you—I built you. You don’t just walk away from this. You willregretthis! Mark my words. You’re turning down a global franchise. Do you even understand what that means for your career? You think you’ll ever get another offer like this? You’ll be blacklisted by half of Hollywood.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But I can live with that. What I can’t live with is being a coward.”

He throws his hands up, incredulous. “This is career suicide! What happened to the nice-guy act, huh? You’re already on thin ice. You think the fallout from your little white-knight moment with your girlfriend just disappeared? You called a girl a bitch on camera?—”

“She deserved it,” I cut in. “And the full video came out. It showed everything.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Landon snaps. “Damage was done. People remember the headline, not the correction. That energy drink sponsor? Gone. PR says it’s ‘not a good look for the brand.’”

I let him vent. I let every last bit of his anger fill the room like smoke. And then I let it settle.

“Are you done?” I ask evenly.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Shock, maybe. Or the realization that I’m not bluffing.

“In the six years you’ve repped me,” I say, stepping closer, “how much money have I made you?”

He presses his lips into a tight line but doesn’t answer.

“At the end of the day, this is my career. My life. My choice. And if that doesn’t fit your agenda, say the word, and I’ll find another agent.”

The shift in him is immediate. His bluster evaporates, replaced with something smoother, slicker. And it makes my skin crawl because I’ve seen this act before. It’s the same one I used to perform when I wanted people to like me. To stay in control. To keep the room.

And suddenly, I’m not mad at Landon.

I’m mad at myself for how long I let this slide. For every time I nodded and played along. For letting people believe they owned a piece of me when I never actually gave it.

Not anymore.

“You seem to be under the impression thatyou’rethe boss of me,” I say, calm but razor-sharp. “We need to fix that real fast.”

His brows shoot up like he’s not sure he heard me right.

“You helped me get here, no doubt. Just like Will did. Just like my parents. But I’m me. And if this is the end, then fine. You’re a great agent, Landon. But you’re not the only one in town. Hell, you’re not even the best in this agency.”

His mouth opens, but I don’t let him speak.

“So here’s the deal. Either you go tell Gordon it’s a no, and you get me the contract forEverything That Follows… or I walk straight into Miranda’s office and find someone who will.”

Landon stares at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“You’ve changed, Jake. What the hell happened?”

I think of Amy’s voice in my head, soft but steady. Oneday, you’ll have to choose.

And this? This is me choosing.

“I didn’t change,” I say, cutting through the noise. “I just stopped pretending.”

I stand and straighten my jacket. “Are we good?”

He says nothing.

I give him a beat. “Are we good?” The words land with weight.