I’d watched as Michael’s eyes sought hers across the crowd, her wink making him stutter a bit while he talked to a film producer who had bankrolled most of the movies made in the nineties and now looking for a new project to sink his dough into. I’d left Michael’s side to grab a quick drink and take another look for the Brit.

He was late. And not just a little late. We’d lost touch around lunchtime. He’d had a meeting, and I was occupied with radio interviews all day. We’d agreed to arrive separately, but now that I was sitting in my seat, the show, my show, about to start, I wanted him there. I was nervous, more nervous than I ever thought I’d be, and I needed his hand to hold. In the dark, I could hold his hand and not worry about cameras or roving eyes or gossiping mouths. I could watch myself on-screen, and even though I’d flinch and blush as I watched, my hand would be in his, and I’d enjoy the moment.

But now, with the lights flashing to let everyone know to take their seats, he was still not here. Holly and Michael slid into their seats, leaving the space next to me open. Holly raised her eyebrows in question, and I shrugged. I checked my phone again, still nothing. David Lancaster stood up to make a quick speech, thanking everyone for coming, and then with light applause, the lights went out. As the opening credits began to roll, I closed my eyes and took a breath. As I exhaled, I felt someone slide into the seat next to me, and I opened my eyes. Jack.

Jack. Smelling like alcohol and slouching down into his chair. Grabbing at my hand he leaned in and whispered “Sorry I’m late, Crazy. Traffic was hell. We got stuck on the 405.”

“Who is we?” I whispered back as his whiskey breath fanned over me. A few seats down I could see Holly staring over, and I waved her away.

“Adam. He wanted to come along and support my girl. He still feels really bad about everything.”

“He feels bad? I can’t believe—”

“Shh, let’s talk about it later. It’s starting.”

He clutched my hand close as images began to appear on the screen. Suddenly there I was, thirty feet tall with a potted plant. People began to cheer all around me.

“Well, look at you.” He grinned, and just like that, I forgot all about Adam. Having never worked in television before, I’d never been a part of taping something you wouldn’t see for weeks and weeks, and then you still never know what you’ll end up with. Sure, I’d seen the dailies. But you never know which cut they’ll use, how they’ll edit it together, and how much music can shape a scene. And now, watching the finished project, I was in awe of the work that had gone into it. I was nervous, sure, but I enjoyed the shit out of it. I laughed. I hid my face in Jack’s shoulder during the sex scene. I rolled my eyes every time I saw myself carrying a book . . . but I was proud.

There was a moment, sitting there in the dark and watching myself on-screen, where I realized I had come full circle. I had truly changed my life, fulfilled a dream I’d had since as early as I could remember, and I was now making a living as an actress. I was getting paid to sing and act and pretend to be someone else, and it was something I don’t think I will ever be able to adequately describe. I’d sat in a theater similar to this one not very long ago, watching actors onstage and sobbing because I was no longer a part of that world. And here I was, inside a moment with a dramatically different outcome.

A tear trickled down my cheek at the closing credits, and I was so full of happiness I could burst. As the lights came up, Jack beamed at me as he stood. All around, people stood and applauded as I smiled. I clapped my hands off when Michael was pushed forward for his standing ovation and watched as Holly planted a big, giant, sloppy kiss on his mouth in front of everyone. As the crowd began to disperse, I looked at Jack, who was watching Michael and Holly.

His eyes met mine, and they were a bit sad. They were also bloodshot. I saw Adam coming down the aisle toward us, and I turned back to Jack.

“Why were you late, Jack?”

“I told you, traffic,” he said, eyes now on the floor.

Adam made his way over, slapping Jack on the back and grinning at me. “Grace! Show was great. I really enjoyed what you did up there,” he exclaimed, turning toward the crowd and nodding a little. As I watched, he positioned himself between Jack and me just as a woman with a camera phone snapped a shot: Adam smiling, Jack sullen, and me ready to spit nails.

“Can I talk to you, please?” I pulled on Jack’s sleeves as soon as I knew the camera was put away.

“Oooh, here we go.” Adam laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender as I led Jack to a quiet corner.

“What the hell, Jack? I can’t believe you brought him here. What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to get away, and he insisted on coming. He wanted to be here. I told you he feels really bad about the way things have been with you two and—”

“He should feel bad, but that’s not why—”

“When I realized how late it had gotten, it was just easier to bring him along. Christ, I didn’t mean to be so late, but if he didn’t come with me, then I—”

“You would bring him here, knowing how much tonight meant to me? How—”

“—would have been even more late and . . . wait a minute, this is ridiculous.” He finally stopped. We’d been talking over each other. “Say what you want to say, Grace.”

“I already said it. I can’t believe you brought him here.” I crossed my arms and stared hard at him. He was a mess. Torn T-shirt under a dirty blazer, jeans that were always a bit tattered but now looked positively uninhabitable. Taking a closer look, his eyes were bloodshot, but they were wild too—spacey and not at all Jack. He ran his hand over his shorn hair, and I could see he knew I had noticed the change. As he looked anywhere but at me, I saw him catch sight of someone.

“Oh, bloody hell. Here it comes.”

Holly barreled over, standing next to us and effectively blocking us from the rest of the crowd. “Guys, what’s going on? And what the hell, Jack? You get jumped on your way over here?” She fixed the collar on his blazer. Wrong move.

“Jesus, enough!” he snapped, jerking away from her hands.

“Whoa, what’s the problem?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“How much time do you have?” he muttered, eyes scanning the crowd. Nodding to someone, he took my hand and squeezed it. “Come on, Crazy. Let’s go get a drink.”

He started to pull me after him when Holly placed her hand on ours. We looked like a football team in a huddle deciding on a play.

“No hand-holding,” she instructed, her voice all business.

“Oh, f**king give it a rest, why don’t you?” Jack growled, continuing to tug on my hand.

I saw Adam near the bar, watching the entire thing, and I dug in my designer heels. “Jack, I don’t think—”

“You’re not actually going to listen to her, are you?” he asked quietly.

I could see some of the crowd had begun to take an interest in our corner. Camera phones. The last thing I needed at my premiere was a scene.

Like the one you almost caused at his premiere?

Ouch.

But still, coming late, coming drunk, bringing Adam? Who was currently smirking at me from across the room. I looked at Jack again, his eyes were fuzzy.

“Come on, Jack. Let’s go get some coffee.” I squeezed his hand but let go of it before Holly could say anything else. When the hell had I become the adult in this relationship? I waved over a waiter and as Jack fumed next to me, I asked for black coffee.

Holly started to say something else, but I shook my head at her. With a warning glance in his direction, she turned back into the crowd, distracting the camera phones by asking loudly if she had really just seen Zac Efron by the bar.

I put a cup of coffee in Jack’s hand. He ignored it.

“Jack, what’s going on?” I asked quietly. He sighed.

“Nothing, Crazy. Everything’s fine,” he answered as a few members of the cast came over to say hello.

The conversation that needed to happen would have to wait, so I introduced Jack and put on my game face. Our eyes met, and he winked.

Winking wasn’t enough this time.

Hours later I was back at home, tired and confused. As I changed and got ready for bed, I thought back over the evening. Since we’d arrived separately, we also left separately, Jack had Bryan come to pick him up after I left so we weren’t photographed together. Tonight had been a huge night for me professionally, and I was pleased, but I was at a loss as to what I needed to do with Jack. I had alarm bells going off everywhere, but for goodness sake, what was I supposed to do about it? He was young; he was rich; he could do whatever he wanted whenever the mood struck.

But that wasn’t Jack—at least not the Jack I knew. And I’d like to think he was a strong enough person that he wouldn’t let someone like Adam influence him so completely to have changed overnight. No, this behavior was only partly Adam. The rest was Jack.

And Jack had hurt me tonight. Coming late, clearly under the influence, and bringing Adam? I was pissed. Concerned, but also pissed. I knew we weren’t a couple who would embrace in front of a crowd—no public groping—but I still very much wanted him there by my side tonight. I’d been nervous, and I wanted his support.

Were you supportive on his big night?

No, no, I was a total asshole. But do two idiots make a right?

As I was thinking, I heard the front door open and close. Slipping into my white polo, I pushed my hair back with a headband and washed my face. As I applied my moisturizer, I noticed that the lines around my eyes looked a bit more pronounced that normal tonight. It’s amazing how fast a few drinks dehydrated my skin. After adding a bit of extra eye cream, I was brushing my teeth when Jack finally made an appearance in the mirror behind me. I nodded to him, then spit.

Pressing a quick kiss into the space between my neck and shoulder, he started for the bedroom, taking off his clothes as he went. I sighed, knowing his silence meant he didn’t want to talk about it.

I stood in the doorway to the bedroom, our bedroom, and watched him as he shuffled out of his T-shirt and jeans, tossing them into the hamper. I watched as he went about the business of getting ready for bed, plugging in his phone, sipping on the glass of water I had already placed on his nightstand, walking without his normal grace but with the gait of a much older and tired man.

He was exhausted, that much was obvious. As well he should be—the partying was beginning to take its toll. But he still was stunning. Long and lean, still tanned from working in the desert, he was beautiful. He stood with his back to me, stretching his arms over his head and running his hands through his hair, which was just beginning to grow out again.

“You going to say something or are you just going to ogle me?” He smirked, looking over his shoulder at me, his eyes going a much darker shade of green. The body might be tired, but there was no doubt this man was still very much only twenty-four.

“What do you want me to say?” I asked, wisely staying in the doorway. I knew us, and if I got too close, the only talking tonight would be of the dirty variety.

“You’re pissed again?”

“Pissed, yes, but I’m hurt, Jack,” I replied, getting a roll of his eyes in return.

The lust that had come up in his face was quickly replaced by irritation.

“Because I brought Adam?”

“If you have to ask that question, then—”

“Listen, okay? He really felt bad about the last few times he’s been around. He knew how important tonight was, I’ve been going on and on about how proud I am of you. He wanted to come along and show his support. How is that such a bad thing? Bloody hell, Grace, the guy can’t win with you!”

He walked past me and into the bathroom. As he splashed water on his face, I counted to ten. I didn’t want this to escalate further, but now I was getting more than pissed, I was getting mad.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asked from under the towel.

“You don’t get to be pissed at me, okay?”

“I’m sorry I was late, I really am. I can’t believe you’re getting so upset about this.” He turned off the water and looked at me in the mirror.

Pie-eyed, I stared back, incredulous that he still didn’t get it. “This was my night. The only one here that gets to be pissed is me!”

“Oh, that’s rich. You complaining about a big night getting ruined? What about the f**king meltdown you had on me last year?” he yelled, turning and throwing his towel into the corner.

“Jack! Look, we can all agree I was a jerk that night, but it’s like you went out of your way to be an ass tonight!”

Eyes blazing, we stared each other down. Tension radiated off him in waves. Every muscle was drawn tight and ready to snap. He looked as though he was going to say something else, but then a shadow passed over his face. Resigned, he moved past me into the bedroom.

“Grace, look, I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m going to bed.” He yanked the sheets down and got in. Shutting down and getting in.

“Wait. Wait a minute. We’re not done talking about this,” I insisted, following him and tugging on the covers.

He tugged them out of my hands and pulled them up, slumping down against the pillows. He rubbed his eyes, his hands dragging down across his face. “Christ, does everything have to be such a big f**king deal? I’m sorry I was late. I’m sorry I brought Adam. It will never happen again. Now I’m going to bed.” He sighed and turned off the light.