Page 13 of Wish Upon A Star

She licks her lips, blows out another shaky breath. Drops her eyes, and then looks back into the camera. Her green eyes are wet, deep, wild with a tumult of emotion. The raw purity of expression, the intense vulnerability in her—it shakes me to my very core.

“Westley Britton, will you marry me?” She laughs, as if she can’t believe she just said that.

Cut to black. Another TikTok starts in, jarring, sudden—too loud too bright too chaotic.

I go back to the beginning and watch it again. And again.

I don’t call Jen back, or Marty.

I don’t know what to say.

What is there to say?

* * *

I’m in my car,at the end of my driveway, foot on the brake. Marty is in front of me, hands braced on my hood as if to physically prevent me from leaving. Jen is at my open driver’s window.

“Wes,no.” This is Jen. She grabs at my wrist. “This is crazy. It’s a random video on TikTok. It’s a desperate cry for attention. It’s—send her a video back. Like, ‘hey, thanks for the video. Hope you get better. Love, Wes.’”

I pull my hand away. “It’s more than that. I can’t explain it, I don’t expect you to understand. I have to go see her.”

“Wes, this is nuts. I’m with Jen on this. You gain nothing by going there. You don’t owe her anything. You get random proposals from desperate fans all the time.” He frowns at me. “And listen, I know how this is gonna sound, okay? But it has to be said. Just because she’s got terminal cancer doesn’t mean you have todoanything. Send her a care package. Sign a shirt and a script or something. I can get you an official working script ofSingin’ in the Rain, signed by the director and Shania and Ryan and you can sign it and that’ll be freaking amazing. A personal visit just complicates things. You don’t need that complication. The papswillget wind of this. The girl’s video is one of the single most-watched things on all of TikTok. It’s viral—beyond viral. The whole world is waiting to see what you’re gonna say, how you’re gonna respond, Wes. You do this, you go see her in person, you’re gonna get bombarded by this kind of shit until forever. It’s a bad precedent.”

“Marty, Jen, I know you’re both just looking out for me. I get it. You want what’s best for me and my career. I trust you both. But at the end of the day, I make my decisions. And I don’t owe explanations to either of you. So please understand me. I’m going. What’s gonna happen? I don’t freaking know, okay? I just know that video…” I shake my head, let out a breath. “It did something to me. I dunno.”

“But the effect on your career—” Marty starts.

“I’mmorethan my career!” I shout.

“It’s just an internet video!” he shouts back.

“That’s where you’re wrong, on several levels,” I say. “It’snotjust an internet video. It’s a very real and very heartfelt piece of personal communication. She just had no other way of getting in front of me than putting it out in public. Also, the ‘internet—’” I put air quotes around the last word, “is how my generation interacts with the world, Marty. TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, Snapchat. I know to you it’s just…the internet. To us? It’s an integral, vital part of how we as humans interact with our society. With each other. It’s not justcontent. It’s meaningful. It’s just not funny stuff and ha ha ha look at me act like an idiot for fifteen seconds for a few thousand likes. It’s…” I sigh, trail off. “You’re not going to understand, and it honestly doesn’t matter. The point is, regardless of what you or Jen or anyone else thinks, Jolene’s video wasn’t just some random internet thing that has nothing to do with me. Itmeanssomething to me, and I can’t explain why, and I don’t care to try. It’simportantto me. I’m going. So get out of the way.”

“What are you going to do, Westley?” he asks, not moving. “Go and accept her proposal?”

Yes.

“I don’t know, Marty. I don’tknow. I just know I felt something real and important when I watched her video, and I have to do something about it.”

Marty looks at Jen, and they exchange some sort of wordless look. Marty steps back and to the side, raising his hands in surrender. “Fine, whatever. But when this shitshow you’re embarking on backfires and explodes in your face, don’t come asking me to fix it for you.”

I snort. “Sometimes in life, you have to make choices that have nothing to do with your career. This is one of them, for me.”

Jen backs away, her expression thoughtful and serious. “Just promise me one thing, okay?”

“What’s that, Jen?” I turn to regard her.

“Stop and think before you jump into anything. Consider the ramifications. Not just for you—what you do affects us, too.”

I nod. “I hear you.”

Jen gestures for me to go ahead. “As long as you understand that both Marty and I strongly recommend against this course of action. You do what you have to do. Just…be smart, okay?”

I laugh. “Yeah, I’ll do my best. But sometimes, the smart thing and the right thing are very far apart from being the same thing.”

A sigh from Jen. More of a huff, annoyed, resigned. She pulls her phone from her back pocket, taps, types, and my phone, plugged in and resting upside down in the console cupholder, burbles with an incoming message.

“What’d you send me?” I ask, reaching for my phone.