Page 26 of June

I just stood there, arms folded, still as stone, and let her talk.

"Mora reached out to me and she told me about this opportunity,"

Selene began smoothly, like she was reciting a cover letter she'd practiced in the mirror.

"I've been dying to get more stage direction work under my belt. I shadowed a director during Phantom's touring revival, did blocking consultations for an off-Broadway company, and even coordinated fight choreography for a Shakespeare festival in the summer. This production is the perfect next step for me. I already talked with Mora about where things stand, and—""

"You're fired."

Her smile froze.

"Excuse me?"

"What the hell, June?"

Leo stepped forward, his brows furrowing.

I turned to him slowly, deliberately, and my voice dropped into that calm, dangerous register I knew made people uneasy.

"I'll deal with you in a second. For now..."

My gaze snapped back to Selene.

"My dear Selene, you might fool Leo, but not me. I know exactly who you are. I know you know who I am. I know you know exactly who's been slithering backstage. And I know exactly what your darling Mora has been plotting."

Selene blinked innocently.

"I don't understand what you're implying."

"Cut. The. Crap."

My words hit like gunfire. I turned to Leo, jabbing a finger in his direction.

"Selene. Leo. Are you sure that name doesn't ring a bell? Not once? Maybe when I was sobbing, telling you Aaron was having second thoughts about our wedding because of a girl named—Selene?"

Leo's face went paper-white, as though the ground had been yanked from under him. His mouth opened, closed, opened again.

"Surely it's not... not the same Selene. I mean, what are the odds?"

He fumbled for his phone, hands trembling.

"Very high,"

I snapped.

"Considering Mora's been stewing in her resentment of me since day one—and Selene here is desperate enough to crawl back into my life under the guise of professionalism."

Selene's lips curled into that cruel little smirk.

"Oh, I get it now. You think I'm here chasing you... or Aaron. Please."

She gave a fake little laugh.

"Yes, he picked me. Yes, we lived together. That's not the point. The point is, you're being completely unprofessional, June. This is the kind of production that gets people noticed. I need this on my résumé—assistant stage direction, lighting calls, blocking notes. Real credits that matter and frankly, you need me too. I'm competent, I'm connected, and I actually know what I'm doing. Can you be mature enough to put aside your... what? Personal vendettas? Emotional baggage? And focus on the damn performance?"

I laughed—sharp and bitter.

"You have the same audacity as Mora, and it's disgusting. What the hell is wrong with you? Was it not enough for you to shove yourself into my personal life when you knew damn well Aaron was engaged? Do you have any idea what kind of person looks at a man with a fiancée and thinks, yes, that's my shot? You weren't clueless. You weren't na?ve. You knew and you didn't care. You helped rip apart something I'd been building for years, and you waltzed into it like you were entitled. And now—what? You want my professional life too? This stage, this production, this company—this is my kingdom, Selene. You don't get to plant your flag here. Not after the mess you helped make of my life. Aaron's betrayal will always be on him most, but don't fool yourself into thinking your hands are clean. You're just as rotten. Just as culpable. And I'll be damned if I let you sink your claws into this too. You're leaving now, or I'll call security."

Selene crossed her arms, chin high.

"Leo hired me."

"And I fire you."

My tone cracked like a whip. I turned to Leo, who looked stricken.

"And if he doesn't like it, he can follow."

Leo's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, guilt radiating from him.

"I... I'm so sorry, June. I swear, I had no idea it was the same Selene. I thought Mora was just being helpful. That's all."

"Helpful?"

I spat.

"Yeah, because she's always been so kind to me before."

Before I could say more, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door banged open, and Aaron came jogging in, out of breath, eyes darting between us.

"What the hell is going on here?"

My head snapped toward Leo. He raised his hands defensively.

"I texted him to show you I had nothing to do with this, I had no idea I swear June."

Selene's face brightened like this was a reunion. She stepped forward, her voice syrupy sweet.

"Oh hi, Aaron. What a wonderful coincidence."

"What the hell are you doing here, Selene?"

She didn't flinch. She only lifted her chin, lips curling into a smirk.

"Leo hired me. But apparently your insecure ex-fiancée thought she could fire me."

Aaron's chest rose and fell like he was holding back a storm. He stepped closer, every word a snarl.

"No. You're getting the hell out of here."

Aaron's voice cracked like a whip, low but lethal.

"You think I don't see through you? You think I don't know your game? I know you saw an opportunity and took it. You couldn't stand to watch me trying to build something again, trying to claw my way back into the trust of the only woman I've ever loved. That burns you, doesn't it? You had to crawl back in, wedge yourself into the cracks, remind me of the worst version of myself. You came here not because you care about this production, not because you love the stage—God, don't insult us with that act—you came here because you wanted to poison the air around June. You wanted to drag her down into the mud with us, just because you can. Just because breaking her is easier than admitting you've never had anything real."

"Do you want the truth, Selene? I tried to be kind after I left. I tried to shoulder the blame because I knew it was my betrayal, my weakness. But hear me now: you are the worst thing that ever happened to me. I go to bed wishing I had never met you, and I wake up wishing I had been man enough to tell my fiancée about my debts instead of running to you like a coward. If I'd stood by June, I wouldn't have lost my future. But instead, I chose you and it ruined everything. It ruined me and her. You are my failure made flesh."

Selene's eyes narrowed.

"You're being cruel."

"Cruel?"

Aaron barked a bitter laugh that sounded more like a wound than amusement.

"No. Cruel is what I did to June. Cruel is shattering the heart of the only woman who ever saw me whole and leaving her bleeding in my absence. You and I, Selene—we are the villains of this story. Especially me. But you? You don't get to lay another finger on her life. Not one. She is the gift the world gave me, the part of myself I'll spend my life trying to earn back, and I was too blind, too weak, too selfish to hold onto it."

Selene tilted her head, her lips curling like a knife.

"Is that so? Was I still your 'biggest mistake' when you came to me on your knees, desperate with your debts? Was I still the villain when you kissed me like your lungs were empty without it? When you told me you couldn't breathe without my touch? Was it regret when you chopped vegetables beside me, when we laughed in that kitchen like we were seventeen again? When you put on our song and danced me across the living room like I was your forever? If I was your mistake, Aaron, then admit it—"

her voice dropped into a venomous whispe.

"—you loved living in it."

The air left my lungs. Her words hit harder than I had braced for. I had imagined it, of course what they might have done, how he might have looked at her, how he might have laughed but imagining and hearing were worlds apart. It was like watching the shape of my worst fears take flesh, step into the room, and sneer at me. Her voice painted pictures I had shoved away in the dark, and each one sliced through me, a dagger slid between my ribs, slow and merciless.

And yet... after the first shock, after the twisting ache in my chest, something unexpected stirred. A stillness. A brutal, almost cleansing clarity. Because this was it. The truth. No more shadows, no more circling questions, no more hauntin.

"what ifs."

For the first time, the ugliness had a name, a shape, a body—and I could look at it without flinching.

It was almost a relief. To hear it. To know it fully. To stop torturing myself with the silence of not knowing. Whatever happened between them, it was real enough to wound me but it was also over and maybe, just maybe, I needed this moment: to face her, to hear it all, to bleed it out so That something else, something lighter, could finally grow where the wound had been.

"Anyway,"

I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

"I'm leaving now. Leo—you're going to escort this woman out and from this point forward, I'll be handling the stage manager hiring myself, since apparently I can't rely on you to use basic judgment."

Leo's face crumpled with shame.

"I'm sorry, June. I didn't know—I thought—"

"You didn't think,"

I cut in coldly.

Then I turned to Aaron.

"And you... thank you, actually. This confrontation, as twisted as it is, puts many demons to rest but don't mistake my relief for reconciliation. We'll keep things civil, as we always have, but that's where it ends. What I want now is no more drama, no more ghosts wandering onto my stage. We're less than two weeks from curtain call, and I won't have you—or her—derailing that."

Finally, I let my eyes snap to Selene.

"As for you, I'll be calling security to make sure neither you nor Mora step foot near this production again. Only God knows what you're capable of when you're desperate for relevance."

For a moment, silence stretched. Selene seethed, her smile gone sharp as glass. Leo looked small, shrinking into himself. Aaron looked... defeated, a shadow of the man who once stood so tall beside me.

And me? I gathered my bag, straightened my spine, and left them there in their wreckage. I drove back to Jan's place, my hands still tight on the wheel from the rehearsal. The silence inside the car felt heavy, so I flicked on the radio, anything to cut through the echo of Selene's voice in my head.

Static, then a calm broadcaster.

"...astronomers have announced that in few weeks, a meteor shower will be visible from across the country, one of the brightest of the year. If the skies are clear, you'll have the chance to witness falling stars."

My throat tightened. A meteor. Of course. I thought instantly of Moonboy, how his laugh used to sound like it could tip the night sky over, how he'd point out constellations no one else could see. Not everything from the past was poisoned, I realized. Some things still glowed. Some things were still mine.

I slowed at a red light, tilting my head toward the windshield. No stars in the city haze, just the reflection of my own tired face. But I could imagine them: streaks of fire breaking open the sky, burning for a second, then vanishing. Not destroyed, just transformed.

In that thought, something lit inside me. Falling. Burning. Surviving. Maybe even shining brighter because of it. A different idea for the choreography bloomed all at once, movements that started with collapse, then spiraled, rose, reached, until the dancers became a storm of light.

The light turned green. I pressed the gas.

For the first time in months, I wasn't replaying what I'd lost. I was thinking of what I could create.