by Cara Dee
Sophie felt like she'd been slapped, and she was too stunned to come up with anything to say. Stumbling out of the car, she made her way to hair and makeup where two of Brooklyn's girls were waiting.
Kelly was already there.
Sophie sat in her chair and stared at her own reflection. As more makeup was applied, she lost her Hollywood shine and became the wayward teenager she portrayed. Dark circles under her eyes. Tangled hair. Collarbone and cheekbones shadowed to be more pronounced than they already were.
The sense of loss in her eyes was real, though. She was so fucking lost.
She kept herself from asking if Tennyson and Daniel were right about her, because unlike what they seemed to think, she wasn’t stupid. A bully could tell right from wrong, and so could she. But it was difficult to break patterns, and Sophie barely knew what was real and what was fake about herself anymore.
"Tell me something genuine," Tennyson had requested.
Something cracked inside Sophie. It felt like she was about to fall to pieces at any moment.
And what would happen if she showed weakness? She would be replaced, that’s what. Her friends would look down on her, point their manicured fingers, and laugh.
She might as well have been poor.
She cringed at that last thought. Not about being poor, but about thinking less of those who were.
God, she'd turned into a fucking monster.
"You all right?" the makeup artist asked.
"Yeah," Sophie lied.
In an attempt to forget the reality of her life, she listened to the two makeup artists discussing going out tonight. Sophie couldn’t exactly say she felt like going out, but maybe it would help? With her celebrity status, she would most likely be able to help the girls get into something cooler than some random bar, too.
"I can tell my PA to find the hot spots in Denver," Sophie told them. "I could really use a night out."
It got quiet in the trailer, and the two makeup artists exchanged looks that Sophie was too familiar with. Only, she was usually the one giving them.
They don’t want me to come with them.
"Uh…we were just thinking of getting a drink or two," one of the women said. "You know, someplace quiet."
The other makeup artist nodded. "Yeah, it's nothing for you, hon. You prefer clubs, right?"
Sophie flushed with humiliation, but she managed a smile. "You know me," she chuckled awkwardly.
The silence that followed was equally awkward, and she was so confused. Back home, people would pay to go clubbing with her.
Fuck.
*
"Cut!" Noah yelled.
Sophie's shoulders sagged, and she sat down on the steps outside the university building. Her mind was spinning, and she couldn’t find focus to save her goddamn life.
"I'm sorry," she said, having botched the scene for the sixth time. It was a simple fucking scene.
Covering her face with her hands, she tried to shut out the world for a minute so she could get her shit straight.
"Hey." Noah squatted down in front of her. "What's wrong, Sophie?"
"I don’t know," she complained. "My head's all fucked."
"It happens." He patted her knee. "Do you wanna take ten and go through your lines?" When Sophie removed her hands from her face, she saw he was glancing up at the sky. "We have about an hour until the shadows change too much and we gotta redo Kelly's first scene. So what do you say?"
Sophie blew out a breath, collecting herself. "Just give me five, please."
"No problem." Noah nodded and left, telling Daniel and the makeup artist to stay back for a bit.
Sophie was thankful, and she stood up and paced in front of the old building's entrance. Eyes closed, she went through her lines in her head. She knew them.
She rolled her shoulders and lolled her head from side to side. I can do this. Thoughts about her own issues faded, and she forced all focus on to the storyline. She wasn’t here to do a scene. She was here to speak to her sister, who hated being around their parents so much that she spent most of her time in her boyfriend's dorm room.
This part of the shoot was one of the scenes that wasn’t shot in sequence, so it was a bit jumbled. But Sophie had been through this several times before.
"Okay, I'm ready," she told Noah.
Noah barked out orders to the crew and his assistants, and Sophie walked off the set to wait for her cue.
As she watched Noah work, she could tell he really burned for this. She guessed he was around thirty, and it probably wouldn’t be long until he stepped out of the director's shadow and stopped assisting. Tennyson certainly seemed happy to work with him.
"Kelly, we'll take it from 'see you later,'" Noah said.
Kelly nodded, and the extra who played her boyfriend walked up the steps of the building to join her.
"Quiet on the set!" Noah's PA called and then walked to stand in front of the camera with the clapper.
Noah took his seat behind a small monitor, headphones on. "Camera rolling."
The assistant announced the shot before leaving the set, Noah called for action, and Sophie turned to watch Kelly.
"I'll see you later, okay?" She moved in for a quick hug, but her boyfriend stopped her and cupped her cheeks. He gazed at her with concern, and then he kissed her. Next, he walked away with his hands in his pockets and shoulders bunched up, and Sophie got ready.
Kelly sighed and ran a hand through her hair, her eyes scanning the park that surrounded the building. Her tired gaze got stuck when she spotted Sophie, who walked over.
"Hey." Sophie climbed the steps and leaned in to hug her sister briefly. "Thanks for finally answering my calls."
"I'm sorry." Kelly sat down. "I can't deal with all that anymore."
"All that?" Sophie repeated, widening her eyes. "This is me you're talking about, Jo. Screw our parents, but what about me?" She slumped down next to Kelly. "I barely see you, and I don’t know what I'm supposed to do."
"Leave." Kelly cleared her throat quietly and glanced at her. "Leave Mom and Dad. Get away from there."
Sophie stared at her silently for a beat, then shook her head. "How?" she whispered. "I'm not eighteen yet, and I don’t have any money."
"Find a man or something." Kelly shrugged, the picture of an empty shell. "I don’t fucking know, Anna. It's up to you, but it beats the alternative, in my opinion. I can't sit by and watch Mom and Dad ruin everything. Hell," she scoffed, "feels like they've already done that. And I'm so sick of covering for them. I'm done."
Sophie nodded absently, knowing Kelly was referring to the cheating, the gambling… "I caught Mom the other day," she confessed quietly. "Remember Steve?"
"Oh, dude." Kelly looked grossed out. "He's like our age."
Sophie nodded, and it grew silent.
A few seconds later, Kelly threw an arm around her and whispered, "Leave."
Sophie swallowed hard and looked out at the park.
This was the scene that would send Sophie's character into a downward spiral of self-destruction. Anything to get away from home.
"And cut!" Noah quirked a grin at Sophie. "Much better. I'll send the footage to Tennyson this afternoon. Everyone else, that’s a wrap for this scene. Time to do Denver coverage."
*
Like, really. Who do they think they are?
Maybe it was because everything had worked out with the scene that Sophie had gotten some of her confidence back, but, regardless, now she was pissed. She was pissed because those two makeup artists had blown her off.
An annoying voice in the back of her head kept telling her she deserved it, but she couldn’t afford to break down now. So that was why—once she got back to the hotel—she donned a sexy dress and headed down to the hotel bar.
Screw finding a hot spot. There was some conference in town that filled the bar with men in nice suits.
There was one stool available at the bar, so she shimmied past the crowded tables and slid onto the stool, sending t
he men next to her a flirty smile.
"Hi, guys."
One of the men cleared his throat and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, but my buddy's sitting there."
Seriously?
"Wouldn’t you rather have me sit here?" She grinned, though it felt forced. What was wrong with people today? You mean to say what's wrong with you, right? She shook that off and extended her hand. "Sophie Pierce."
"Toby." The man furrowed his brow and shook her hand briefly. "You look familiar."
Finally. "I'm an actress," she said as the bartender reached her. "A vodka lemon, extra ice."
"No, that’s not it…" Toby looked pensive for a beat before he snapped his fingers, grinned, and hollered for a friend. "Hey, Frank! Get over here."
By the time the man in question had wrapped up his discussion with a few others, Sophie had received her drink.
"Doesn’t this girl look like the one in the picture in your office?" Toby asked. To Sophie, he elaborated. "We work in undergraduate admissions. We take education seriously." He winked.
This Frank guy frowned and then nodded. "Hard to tell without the crotch shot, but maybe." He chuckled and slapped Toby on the shoulder. "Here—I have the photo in my phone, too."
Sophie kept her face composed, all while praying it wasn’t her in whatever picture he was about to show her.
She breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw it wasn’t her. But…the relief was short-lived because while it wasn’t her, it was one of her friends. Cassandra.
Drunk off her ass and getting out of a car, Cassandra was showing the world she preferred going commando. Her hair was messy, her eyes unfocused, lipstick smeared, and she was holding a diamond-encrusted flask.
To top it off, the photo—or meme?—had the words "The Future of America. Well Done." printed in bold.
They were ridiculing Cassandra, and Sophie wasn’t any different from her friend, was she?
"No, no, not that one," Toby said, chuckling. "I mean the one that says 'The Difference between Math and Meth is More than One Letter.'"
"Oh!" Frank nodded and scrolled to another photo. "This one."
And there was Sophie.
Coldest shower ever.
Not only was she wasted in the photo, she had a bad complexion and makeup smeared under her eyes. There was also white powder dusted under her nose, and she was sitting on the curb outside a club with two friends. Whoever had taken the photo had gotten a good shot of her see-through panties.
Sophie couldn’t have been more mortified. Stunned into silence and shattering inside, there was nothing she could say to defend herself, either. It was her. And apparently she was a fucking joke.
"Priceless," Toby laughed. "Oh, Sophie, be glad you're not really this girl."
"Well, she does serve a purpose," Frank interjected with a grin. "She makes for great motivational posters at colleges and universities around the nation. Plus, my colleagues always get a good laugh when they come into my office."
Sophie's eyes burned, and she knew she had about two minutes to get behind closed doors before she broke down.
"E-Excuse me," she stuttered. She let out a shaky breath and slid off the stool, making sure not to reveal too much of her thighs. "I'll be right back." She obviously wouldn’t, but it was better than any other excuse.
Then again, the two men were back to laughing at photos in Frank's phone, so perhaps they didn’t even notice she'd left.
Stalking over to the elevators, she pressed the button. For some reason, she felt like everyone was watching her, judging her, but there was nobody around.
Daniel called her obnoxious, Tennyson clearly had no respect for her, the makeup artists didn’t want to be seen with her, and now this. She couldn’t take it. She was about to burst.
Once she got to her floor, she stormed into her suite and banged on the door leading to the assistants' adjoining suite.
"Daniel!" she shouted hoarsely.
Calm down, she thought as she tried to breathe easier. But it was almost impossible.
The door opened, and Daniel cocked a brow. "What's up? Why're you all dressed up?"
She ignored his questions. "Be honest with me. Do people hate me or something? Have I done anything to piss off the world?"
Because this fucking hurt.
Daniel frowned. "What happened?"
"Just answer me," she gritted out.
She wasn’t gonna play stupid. Her reputation was far from stellar, but did she really deserve to be made fun of? Oh God, what if she did?
For a moment, Daniel only stared at her, and it was frustrating the ever-loving hell out of Sophie. She needed answers, damn it.
"You know what? I'll be right back." Daniel disappeared into his own room, only to return with her laptop. He sat down on the edge of her bed and placed the laptop in the middle. "I don’t know what's happened, but you do need a reality check. Type in your password."
Sophie bristled at being ordered around, but maybe she'd get an opportunity to check her social media once Daniel had made his point—if there was one. So she rounded the bed, sat down on the other side, and typed in the password.
Daniel tapped away on the keyboard. "I'm doing this because I think there's a nice person hiding beneath the several layers of bullshit. Here." He angled the laptop in her direction. "Read this before you speak to me again."
Sophie glared then shifted her gaze to the dozen or so tabs he'd opened.
"Wait—" He gripped her shoulder and leveled her with a firm look. "Let me say first that I believe there is much more to you than what you're about to read. Okay? But I still think it could be beneficial for you to see a bit of what your father's staff gets paid to hide from you." He nodded at the screen and stood up. "I know you enjoy reading stories about yourself, but this time, read the comments."
Daniel left, and Sophie scowled at the door for a second or two and then sighed and peered back at the screen.
The first tab was the front page of a common tabloid, and the article was about Sophie and her friends partying. But the article was sort of old, so she had no idea what significance it could have. Still, she scrolled down and clicked to read the comments.
"I need an app that blocks every mention of Sophie Pierce."
"Bitch," Sophie mumbled.
After that, though…it got difficult to stay unaffected.
"This would make a great drinking game. One shot every time she embarrasses herself LOL!"
"The skinny skank is as stupid as the losers who date her."
"Meh. Useless cunt. Next."
"Stop hating on her. In case of an alien invasion, she's enough to scare them off. Rock on, Sophie!"
"Can someone do the world a favor and shoot her?"
Sophie recoiled, shocked, and closed the tab. But it only made the next one pop up, which was her Twitter, and it was set on the hashtag "#PartyPrincessPierce."
As she read the posts, all color drained from her face.
Shutting down Twitter, it was Facebook up next. A photo of her—when she was drunk—was being shared between thousands of people.
"This needs to be a meme for how students feel after finals. She looks horrible!"
"Lord, she's like a poster child for fuck-ups."
"Someone call animal control!"
"I wouldn’t touch her with my cheating ex's dick."
"If my daughter came home looking like a crack whore, I don’t know what I'd do."
"Waste of space."
"Don’t tag me in this shit. I might catch an STD."
"I don’t know what's more disgusting. Sophie Pierce, or the fact that she probably has a butler to wipe her ass."
Sophie didn’t even notice she was crying until a teardrop hit her hand.
Going back to her Twitter, she tried to forget about what she'd just seen, but it was futile.
There was a new club opening in LA this Friday, and according to her friend Cassandra, everyone who was someone was gonna be there. It was all over her Twitter.
Cassandra was so looking forward to it.
A guy Sophie had once starred in a shitty rom-com with was going too, and the flirting between him and Cassandra was anything but subtle.
Callie's sister was hungover. Another friend was pouting her lips in a revealing selfie. Some guy Sophie had dated a while back was "gathering his bros" for a few days in Vegas. Lachlan was tweeting about bitches betraying him.
Sophie hung her head.
First of all, she and Lachlan had been a spotlight item. Nothing serious. He was the new bad boy in town and she was famous. Win-win for both.
Second of all, Sophie felt sick to her stomach.
She closed her Twitter again and saw the next gossip blog with countless comments.
"I get stupider just seeing her face."
"Gag."
"Proof that some are born to spread their legs cuz it's all they're good at."
"Fucking slut."
"I like her shoes, but please chop off the rest."
Tabloids loved to write about her and her friends, and Sophie had lived in the small bubble where everyone supposedly loved her. But that wasn’t the truth, was it? Her world was cutthroat and full of backstabbing. And online… Christ, she'd never been so ridiculed.
Some prayed for her.
Most called her nasty things.
Because I'm fucking nasty.
Nausea won, and Sophie bolted for the bathroom.
*
She spent the entire evening lurking and reading what people thought of her. She also went over walls and feeds that belonged to her friends, and nothing had really changed, except…something had.
She wasn’t popular at all.
Not long ago, she would've brushed it off and said haters were gonna hate. Everyone was just jealous, but they fucking weren't.
"Oh God." She covered her face, unable to stop crying. Of course, this was the moment the phone in her room rang. Like she was in any kind of state to take a phone call. "Ugh." She sniffled and wiped her nose, reaching for the phone on her nightstand. "H-Hello?"
"It's Tennyson."
"Oh. Hi." Sophie swallowed her nausea and checked the time, seeing it was well past nine. He'd probably gone through the second-unit dailies by now. "What's up?"
