Page 45 of Marisol Acts the Part
I’ve done hundreds of photo shoots over the years, but none has ever made me feel as terrified as this one. Not even the time I was dangled twenty feet in the air over a dam in Vancouver for Teen Vogue.
As far as shoots go, it’s pretty straightforward.
Annaleigh insisted on a shoot so we’d have a set of photos to go along with the piece—a cover feature, she assured me.
A modest crew is assembled on the roof of the loft in Brooklyn they’ve rented for the day, fluttering around the cramped space while I readjust the pink cotton sundress I’ve chosen for the occasion.
“Stop it.” Jamila bats playfully at my hands while I readjust the bow holding the bodice top together yet again. “You look perfect,” she reassures me, pushing the glossy curtain of my hair over my shoulder, exposing my mostly bare shoulder.
One silver lining of no longer being under Rune’s rule, aside from being able to relax for the first time in months, is no longer having to abide by his wardrobe rules.
Within days of my firing, I went straight back to the salon that made me platinum and had them restore the life to my hair that Rune sucked dry.
It’s not a perfect match to my original rich brunette, but it’s close enough to make me feel like myself again.
Along with finally getting to break out the pinks and buttercream-yellow ensembles I’d shoved to the back of my closet, and spritzing Coco Mademoiselle on my wrists and neck, I’m finally starting to feel like myself again.
My phone buzzes with a new text as I’m double-checking my makeup in the selfie camera.
Lily
You’re going to crush it today!!!
A few seconds later…
Posie
We love you!!!
I don’t need to put on a smile as I snap a quick selfie to send to them—laughing as they immediately spam the chat with praise for my makeup and outfit.
Only a few more weeks until they’re finally wrapped with filming and can head out on their weeklong trip to New York to visit moi.
My skin thrums every time I think about finally getting to see them again, and all of the shopping we’re going to do the second they get here. Our bank accounts are not ready.
On the opposite side of the roof, Fatima barks out orders left and right, running the photo shoot like a pro.
“She’s perfect for this job,” Jamila says as we watch her go over the shot list with the director. “People actually like that she’s being bossy.”
I snort. Admittedly, I do like how in control Fatima has been throughout this process.
Knowing that what is possibly the most important interview of my life—that’ll either make or break my career—is in her hands has been calming, to say the least. I may still be waking up in the middle of the night panicking about Rune showing up at my door with a pitchfork-wielding angry mob, but now that I’m here, I’m able to remind myself that this is the right decision.
“We’re talking about the photo leak today…
” I say cautiously, avoiding Jamila’s eyes and focusing instead on the design on my ring fingernail.
Kevin made sure to go all-out for the occasion, giving me a fresh set of acrylics complete with intricate floral designs on each nail.
Last night’s catch-up session/nail appointment was the perfect way to celebrate his finally being ungrounded.
The photo leak is a topic I’ve been dancing around, not sure how to broach with Jamila quite yet. She’s been there for each of my two interview sessions so far, going in chronological order starting with my audition experience, but this is the first that directly involves her.
My firing is the heart of this story, something I know I can’t avoid talking about.
But it means delving into my personal life—revealing that I was dating someone on set.
There’s only so much I can do to cover my tracks, with the photo of me and Jamila kissing already out in the open.
People came to their own conclusions after the article was out—throwing the shots of us together on the red carpet side by side with the blurry kiss photo and drawing comparisons.
Still, there’s plausible deniability. I can keep the details as vague as possible, maybe even fudge them a little bit to try to hide Jamila’s identity.
I can’t help feeling guilty for getting her caught in the crosshairs.
She’s done more than enough to help me through this summer—I don’t need to drag her down with me.
“I can try to keep things vague. Maybe make them think it was someone else,” I go on, listing all the options I’ve already thought of. Anything to keep Jamila as anonymous as possible. “Or I can—”
“You can tell the truth,” Jamila interrupts before I can finish. Her palm cradles my cheek, turning me to face her. “You can tell them it was me.”
Something about her touch always makes my heart race, but this is on a whole new level. Heat surrounds me like a mist, my heart beating so fast I can feel it in my fingertips as I rest my hand on top of hers. “But your agent—”
“Is fired,” she interjects again, shaking her head slightly, making her curls bounce in the midsummer breeze. “I’m not going to start my career lying about who I am.”
She laces our fingers together, lowering them until they’re linked in the small bit of space between us. “I want to do this with you. Together.”
“Together,” I whisper back, the words almost lost to the wind and the clatter of equipment and Fatima’s shouts to get this show on the road.
When I came to this city, I had no idea what to expect.
Whether I’d crash and burn or soar and become the person I hoped I could be.
Success doesn’t look like what I originally envisioned.
Fired from the show I busted my ass to book.
Being sorta-friends with the ex who broke my heart.
Adjusting to living in a walk-in closet.
Calling the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met mine.
Nothing about this summer has been what I expected because it’s better than anything I could’ve ever imagined.
Meeting Kevin and helping him transform into Diamond, watching him destroy his first-ever performance.
Getting to eat my abuela’s incredible cooking every other night. Kissing Jamila on a packed dance floor.
It’s a terrifying thought, letting people in.
Especially after my history with Miles and an intensely public relationship.
But this time will be different. I know that for sure.
Suddenly, I don’t feel the need to post the selfies we take curled up in our blanket forts—even though they are cute as hell.
I want to keep this beautiful thing close to my chest. Learn who we are together privately before the world can decide for us.
And even though we may be afraid for our own reasons of what going public might mean, I know we’ll be okay.
Anything feels possible when her fingers are laced through mine.
We’ll brave the world, the critics, the fans—everyone.
Together.