Page 31 of Until the Last Star Fades

“Stupid person, a moron.”

“Aw, that’s awful!”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to win any academic awards. I did okay in drama class, though, so I thought, why not? I aced my auditions for drama school, received bursaries to help pay for it, got my BA, and here I am.”

“But how do you learn lines?” Riley peered into her wrap. “What do you see when you read?”

“Depends. Sometimes letters get mixed up or they move…it’s weird. If I’m relaxed or have time to partially recognize the words, I’m pretty good. It takes me a while, but I get there. I love books and reading, so I invest the time, but when I’m learning lines, I record myself reading aloud on my phone. Then I listen to it over and over, imaging a mini movie in my head, relating the actions to the words.”

“That’s a lot of work.” Her eyes fell to his plate. “No wonder the Netflix audition threw you—no prep time.”

“Cold read auditions are the death of me. It’s like reading aloud in school all over again.” He pulled the straw out of his shake. “I want to make something of myself, make my mum proud, but I’ve lost out on a dozen or more acting gigs on the trot, so I’m taking the hint.” He tilted his head, contemplating the chocolate dripping back into the glass. “I’m gonna quit.”

“Quit? How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“You’ve been out of drama school for…?” She picked up her phone and tapped at the screen.

He squinted at her flying fingers. “Almost three years.”

“And you’re quitting? Already? Imagine if J.K. Rowling gave up after her first rejection letters! You gotta keep chasing your dream, Ben. That’s what they’re there for—to keep you going.” She turned her phone around. “Look, these actors are all dyslexic: Kiera Knightley, Tom Cruise, Orlando Bloom. If they can do it…”

“Wow, you’re great.” His eyes brightened. “Care to follow me around and give me a kick in the arse when I need it?”

Her fingers scrolled the screen. “And it says here dyslexia doesn’t signify low intelligence. Ben, those kids at school were ignorant assholes. In a way, you’ll be letting them win if you quit—”

“How can you say all this to me but let your own dream die?”

“I’m…I’m not letting it die.” Aren’t I? Riley looked down at the bridesmaid sash, returning her gaze to Ben with a stiff smile. “I’m just…putting it on hold for a while.”

“Okay, then make me a promise, here and now.” He sucked on the straw, savoring the chocolate bubbles. “If you promise to hold on to your dream of working in TV, I’ll do the same with acting.”

“Ben—”

“C’mon, you can’t urge me to keep going and then ignore your own advice. Swear on that California wrappy thing.”

She set her phone on the table. “So, you’re going to stick with it?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Los Angeles…I’m envious. Riley’s eyes crinkled in the corners, visions of swimming, sunshine—freedom—flashing through her mind. “Will you head back to LA?”

Ben scratched his eyebrow. “I think I’ll stay in New York for a while. Someone’s gotta say yes at some point. One good audition could change everything, right?”

Yes! He’s staying… She nodded enthusiastically.

“So, come on, Hope—pinky swear you’ll not give up on your dream either?” He offered his small finger expectantly. “Don’t leave me hanging here.”

Riley’s shoulders slumped as she gave in to his demand, briefly locking her pinky finger with his. “Erghh, fine!”

They shared a smile and dug into their meals.

Come 2:30 A.M., both were slipping into carb comas. Ben insisted on paying for Riley’s dinner as an apology for his behavior at the club.

BUZZZZZZZ. He pulled his phone from his pocket, his brows furrowing farther with each passing second. “Shiiiit!”

“What’s wrong?”