I Will Rescue You | Elizabeth Olsen

14. "just a playboy"

September 4th

DAISY's POV

"I-I can't believe this is happening. What if it gets rejected?"

"Deep breaths. Dais. The judge said that he couldn't make a decision right at that moment, but it wasn't a no."

"But it wasn't a yes. I need this, Lizzie. I can't go back to her."

We only just got back from my court hearing two minutes ago. The judge's inability to make a choice right then and there fills me with little hope, and hope is really what I could use right now.

"Honey, given the information, I highly doubt they would allow your mother to have care over you."

"So what? I just go to some foster home instead?"

Lizzie sighs as her attempts to pacify me fail. It's just too much. This, on top of Cole kicking me out and him not having spoken to me since is too many issues at once.

And that's what I explain to Lizzie whilst she's sat with me at the kitchen.

"Cole was just a playboy, I guess. Rich guy who wanted no more than to use me as his toy," I reflect, lighting up a cigarette from the pack in my jacket pocket.

It was inevitable that the person I'm living with would find out about my new, well, old, habit. Obviously she doesn't want me to be doing that to my body and has thoroughly explained the risks, but her talks haven't helped.

"Then he didn't deserve you," Lizzie tells me sympathetically, coming over and attempting to take the cigarette from my mouth.

"Give," she says gently, I push her hand away. "This isn't a healthy way to cope. If you continue smoking for relief then you're gonna find it really difficult to stop. Can you at least try to lower it from five a day to four a day? Start slowly?"

In order to get her to shut up about it, I agree. But only because she would lecture me about this for forever if she could.

"I'm gonna go take a shower before we go over our lines. Try to relax in the meantime, stick something on the TV."

Listening to her words, I wait for her to walk off before going over into the living room and sitting in one of the armchairs, as opposed to the couch that Cole and I had sex on previously. Neither Lizzie or myself sit on it anymore. I use a blow-up mattress to sleep on, still in the living room.

For the next what I estimate to be forty minutes, I have Bad Education playing in the background whilst I pay attention to my thoughts, rather than Jack Whitehall playing the teacher that everyone dreams of having at school.

There's so many swirling around my head. But the one in particular that's getting to me, is what the hell I'm gonna do if I get this emancipation.

I mean, I won't have nearly enough money to afford my own place. I know Lizzie said that I can stay with her but that's only temporary until she goes back to LA when this movie is over.

Speaking of which, I've hardly been shooting anything. With Cate being the director, she obviously had to be informed on every detail of what's currently happening in my life.

But that only means that she's giving me as much time off as I need, which I hate. I don't need anyone's pity or lenience. I mean, I could be entering the real adult word within a few weeks and if that happens, I need to be treated like an adult. Not a sad teenager.

"Wouldn't you know it," Lizzie starts as she enters the room, seating herself on the armchair opposite mine. "Wanda has her classic fall to her knees and cry scene. As if she hasn't had enough of those already."

She has a point. Wanda never seems to get a break. I guess we're the same in that way.

"I can't believe they gave Wanda some sort of long-lost daughter, too. How random," I comment whilst flicking through my script, Lizzie doing the same with hers.

"At least she'll have some family. Fans are gonna be shocked. Can you imagine trailer day?"

"Nope. I definitely cannot."

Actually, the day the trailer is released is probably one of my biggest fears at the moment. I know that I'm a damn good actor and I'm not doubting my abilities, it's just that this is my first huge role. If I screw this up, I can never show my face on television again.

-

September 7th

To keep my mind off of things, I've spent my time learning and learning and learning my lines. I messed up one tiny word yesterday in my script and even that was enough to mortify me.

It was a scene with all of the Avengers, when my character first gets rescued. I asked to see the footage afterwards and even after getting the line right the second time round, I still knew that I could do better.

And that led on to us redoing the scene over and over and over.

I think I really proved myself yesterday during that scene. I took charge, and got done what needed to be done.

That was also the scene in which I had to scream and cry whilst tied up to a rusty metal pole. It took a long time of Lizzie holding me and shushing me for me to be able to come down from it and I was out like a light after, but it was worth it.

Now it's all me and Lizzie can talk about.

"I knew you could act but oh my goodness! You're so modest," she praises. The only thing that stops her from gushing over my acting is when there's a knock at the door.

Lizzie politely excuses herself and I stay sat on my chair while she goes up to answer the door.

Little did I know, this was moments before a disaster.

"Daisy Roberts. My name is Nina Jones from social services. Your emancipation didn't go through, we're moving you to an emergency placement near Central Park. Pack your things."