What if second chances come a second time?
Long ago, Hannah and Jonah called it quits. Long ago, Hannah stopped trying to make things work, and Jonah let her go. Long ago, Jonah mailed back all of Hannah's stuff from his apartment, and Hannah blocke...
In the end, Freddie gets called up for a meeting he absolutely cannotmiss or attend via Zoom, around a week before the reunion.
There's a major strike happening within the film industry, and it's getting critical. Archer Corporation, as the parent company of a minor film production company, is also involved in the negotiations in attempts to end the strike.
If you want to personally ask me, I'm definitely in favor of WGA and SAG-AFTRA—which represent American screenwriters and actors—who are fighting for better, fairer pay in the industry. Especially since my sister, Leann, is part of both unions—having worked as a background actor in a few, albeit mostly canceled, TV shows and currently working on her own screenplay, she knows the struggles all too well.
Despite not being one of the major film studios, Archer Pictures is a member of AMPTP—the association of American TV and film production companies—and Freddie's godfather/boss, Harvey, ordered him to represent the company during these meetings. Of course, Freddie couldn't say no, and he was already repacking his suitcase even before the phone call ended.
I beg and plead to tag along with him, but on the same day, Gina ambushes me in my own home, teaming up with Freddie like the traitor that they both are.
I hate that they've become really good friends. They've literally only met each other once before, and suddenly it's like they've been friends for as long as Gina and I have been friends, and their sole goal is to make my life miserable.
With my arms crossed over my chest, I grumble as Freddie waves goodbye at us from the back of the car. Why am I only allowed to tag along with him to be a pretty arm candy for the cameras? Maybe I'd love to get involved in these meetings too. Maybe I'd like the chance to tell all these rich billionaires—including my own husband, of course—to go to hell and start paying their workers with the wage they deserve.
I shake my head as I watch the car disappear in the corner, still grumbling to myself. Maybe I should call Leann and tell her Freddie's coming to LA. She's currently picketing outside of a few different major film studios right now, on rotation, and maybe I should tell her to add Archer Pictures to the list. Yeah. That'll be fun.
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"You know what? It's whatever. I never RSVP'd anyway. I don't have to come," I tell Gina, who's coming over to my house to bother me two days before the reunion.
"I already did it on behalf of both of us, duh," Gina responds and I groan at that. "Oh, come on! You really wanna be an asshole and let me go to the reunion by myself? I've already paid for your ticket. No refunds," she says, making an exaggerated sad face.
"I hate you sooo much."
She follows me up to my room. Freddie's other suitcase is still here, readily packed. We were about to go on a staycation at one of the many summer homes his family owns to "celebrate" our wedding anniversary.
