Chapter 4: 3

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After the table read, I make it back to my hotel feeling completely drained.

Being "Ava Monroe" for hours at a time, especially around a new cast, takes more energy than people think.

By the time I step into my room, my head is pounding, and all I want to do is curl up in bed with room service.

But my plans for a quiet evening are quickly derailed when my phone buzzes with a text from Ariana Greenblatt.

Ariana: You're in town and didn't tell me? Rude. Dinner. My treat. Pick you up at 7.

I can't help but smile.

Ariana is one of the few people in this industry who truly gets me. We've been friends since we worked on an animated film together a few years ago, voicing characters who were supposed to be polar opposites but ended up being the heart of the story. Off-screen, we clicked instantly.

I type back a quick reply: "You're lucky I'm too tired to argue. See you at 7."

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At exactly 7:00 PM, Ariana pulls up in her car, blasting music loud enough to rattle the windows of my hotel. She hops out, wearing a black tight long dress that hugs her.

"Ava Monroe," she says with mock seriousness, placing her hands on her hips. "What are you doing hiding out in your hotel when I'm five minutes away?"

"I wasn't hiding," I say, giving her a hug. "I was recovering."

"Well, now you're with me, so no more recovery. Let's go!"

We hop into her car, and I sink into the passenger seat as she turns the music down just enough for us to talk.

"How was the table read?" she asks, glancing at me as she merges onto the highway.

"It was... fine," I say, though the word feels inadequate. "The cast is great. The director seems nice."

"And?" she presses, raising an eyebrow.

I hesitate. "And I met Walker Scobell."

Her face lights up. "Ooooh, Walker. Tell me everything. Is he as funny in person as he is in interviews? Is he cute? I bet he's cute."

I roll my eyes. "He's... fine."

"Just fine?"

"Okay, he's a good actor, and yeah, he's cute, but he's so... relaxed. It's like he doesn't even have to try, and everyone loves him for it."

Ariana laughs. "So, what you're saying is, he's the exact opposite of you?"

I shoot her a look, but she's not wrong.

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We pull into the parking lot of a small Italian restaurant that Ariana swears has the best pasta in town.

It's the kind of place that doesn't take reservations but is worth the wait. Thankfully, Ariana's and I's fame comes with perks, and we're seated right away in a cozy corner booth.

For the next hour, it feels like I can finally breathe. Ariana has a way of making me forget about all the pressures and expectations that come with being Ava Monroe. We talk about everything—her upcoming projects, my new role, the latest celebrity drama.

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"Do you ever just want to quit?" I ask at one point, swirling my fork in my pasta.

Ariana tilts her head. "Quit acting?"

"Yeah. Like, walk away from all of it and live a normal life."

She leans back in her seat, considering my question. "Sometimes. But then I remember that I actually love what I do. It's not the acting that's the problem—it's everything else. The cameras, the headlines, the constant judgment."

I nod, feeling a pang of guilt. Ariana has always been better at balancing her career with her personal life, while I've let my whole identity get wrapped up in being perfect.

"Hey," she says, nudging me with her elbow. "Don't get all serious on me. Tonight's about having fun, remember?"

I smile. "Right. Fun."

But the moment is short-lived. As we step out of the restaurant after dinner, the flash of cameras blinds me, and I instinctively freeze.

"Over here, Ava! Ariana! Look this way!"

A swarm of paparazzi has gathered outside, their cameras clicking furiously as they shout our names. My heart sinks. I should have known this would happen.

"Just keep walking," Ariana says under her breath, grabbing my arm. She's much better at dealing with this than I am.

I plaster on a neutral expression and follow her lead, but the questions keep coming.

"Ava, how's the new movie?"

"Is this a girls' night out or something more?"

"Who are you wearing?"

I don't answer any of them, but my chest feels tight by the time we make it to Ariana's car. Once we're safely inside, she locks the doors and turns to me.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I say, though my voice is shaky.

She doesn't look convinced. "You've got to stop letting them get to you. It's just noise, Ava. That's all it is."

I nod, but the knot in my stomach doesn't go away.

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As Ariana drives me back to my hotel, I stare out the window, watching the city lights blur together. I think about what she said earlier—about loving the work but hating everything else that comes with it.

I do love acting. I always have. But sometimes I wonder if that's enough.

When we pull up to the hotel, Ariana squeezes my hand before I get out. "You're going to be fine, Ava. Just remember who you are, okay?"

I nod, but as I walk into the lobby, I can't help but feel like I'm not so sure who that is anymore.

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