AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Places, people,” our director calls. The hair and makeup crew scatter as the production assistants closest to the entrance brace for the mob.
“We’ll talk about your trip and other taping possibilities later,” Mom says.
“Sure,” I lie, plastering on a smile for the cameras. It doesn’t matter what kind of day I’m having, the fans made time to be here. They’ve spent hard-earned money to see us.
The least I can do is to try not to jinx this celebration of the glamour that makes my family famous—even if we’re hellaciously dysfunctional.
CHAPTER THREE
Val
“Why’d you choose the scenic route when you know there’s no way we can make it to the haunted house on time?” Ava, my roommate and best friend, asks from the passenger seat as I drive us along the narrow coastal highway.
I figure she’s logged into every traffic app available. From her sleek blonde ponytail to the organized planners in her lap, she triple checks everything before making decisions. Her obsession with detail makes my scattered thoughts look like a kid’s finger painting on steroids.
I wave toward the view. “Other than the sunshine, rolling waves, and beautiful bluffs?”
She slides a look my way, lowering her voice despite the loud debate going on in the backseat between our other two friends—Rosemarie and Meg—about the best and worst movie adaptations of video games. “You know this trip’s important for more than just celebrating our graduation,” Ava says.
After losing the internship she’d looked forward to, she has pinned her hopes on digging up dirt about the company that owns the haunted house we’re visiting. I won’t get in the way of her budding investigative journalist career.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her. “Any company calling itself the Underworld can’t be reputable.” Using my best villain voice, I add, “You’ll uncover whatever nefarious business they’re up to.”
She waves away my silliness with a smile. “Still, why not take the freeway?”
If this was part of my family’s freak show with the cameras rolling or the press watching, I would make up a flippant excuse. But if I can ever act like the realme, it’s with the three women in my car right now. “Everywhere in the city, I see my family staring back at me from the sides of buses or plastered on buildings near campus. Except ourreality showlook isn’t the real us at all. It’s makeup spackled on three layers deep, shapewear to suck us in where they want us to be skinny and padding where the wardrobe people are told to plump us up a bit.”
“You don’t need to change,” she insists.
“It’s Hollywood. Everyone has to change. My family wantsnothing more than for me to change.” I don’t add how I dream of someone loving me exactly as I am—not wanting me to take up less space, talk less,beless. “I just need a break from the show.”
“Which has what to do with avoiding the freeway?” she prompts, clearly not dropping the subject. Ava’s complete focus is the polar opposite to my lack of it.
I fight a sigh. “Billboards. I can’t stand?—”
Ava touches my arm. “It’s all right. The tour company will just have to let us in whenever we arrive.”
“Because I’m always late?” I ask. “Or because I’m famous?”
“Because I don’t take no for an answer.”
I snicker. Being the daughter of the fiercest entertainment lawyer in town means Ava brings her own version of terrifying—one the operators of any haunted house attraction won’t see coming. “You’ll scare all the ghosts away.”
“Or you might.” Thankfully, she doesn’t bring up the freeway again.
Instead, she goes back to her colorful planners and meticulous notes. I’ll defend her obsession with notebooks, gel pens, and stickers every bit as much as she overlooks my tendency to misplace things and clean stuff I might’ve forgotten I already cleaned.
Rosemarie calls from the backseat, “You bothhaveto check out the cover of Meg’s latest read.”
Meg, an avid romance reader, reluctantly passes her paperback to Ava. A handsome model poses in a designer suit on the cover. A streak of green smears the title, probably paint from Meg’s latest tabletop game design.
“Any good?” Ava asks.
“Yeah.” Meg’s never been the most talkative of the four of us, and too many people pick on her for her favorite hobbies.
“So good,” Rosemarie answers. “She let me listen to some of the audiobook. Whew.” She fans herself. “Wish I’d had that to get me through my commutes to the hospital.”
“Love conquers all,” Meg says softly. “Of course, excellent smut helps.”
