The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

57

"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow, taking a gulp of water finally after an hour of shooting. I bottle the plastic cap up and hand it back to the assistant, which she quickly sets away. "Well, you know one thing about this job?"

He nods rapidly, leaning in at every word I say.

"It's that a lot of people say they know me. But they often don't." I waved the assistant over, who seemed to have given up any hopes of making conversation with me, and let her fix my makeup from the small beads of sweat that had made its way over my face under the warm shooting lights. "I guess it's a way they try to get me to talk to them, to lure me in. I'm pretty sure a lot of other actresses have this problem. It's honestly a depressing and useless way of trying though, I wonder why people still do it." I wave at the assistant to stop for a moment so I can look this boy in the eyes. "Tell him I wish him well, and if he doesn't leave, you can get the securities."

He nods with full obedience again, and right when he's turning away he turns back again, something in his mind clicking together. "I-I know this might not mean anything, but he looks really important. In a suit, a black neat Tesla behind him, and it s-seems like you might know him."

Before I can say anything myself, the assistant cuts in with her high-tuned fake voice. "Why don't you just leave already? If Maeve Lively really wants to see him she would've gone by now."

The boy looks down, avoiding my eyes and back bent like a house servant. "Oh. Okay. I'm sorry for making a fuss. I'll tell him to leave."

I had my own voice, and seeing that assistant's face in full gloat, something in me just didn't fit. "Wait."

He stops at his tracks, and that assistant looks like someone might as well have punched her in the gut.

"On second thought, I'll go see him."

She grabs at my arm, seeming to be an action that she just did without much of a thought. "But there's two more minutes until you have to shoot again, Ms. Lively."

My eyes linger on where her hand is at my arm, then, her eyes follow up to it too, and quickly, she lets go. I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice with a smile, which relaxes her half-horrified face. "Tell the director and photographer I'll just be gone for a bit."

She stands there unsurely while I follow the boy out. I was thinking I just needed some fresh air, and a distraction from all the heat and bitterness that has somehow formed in that photoshoot. Sometimes I got like that, too annoyed I can't seem to exactly hide myself like I can usually do so well.

So when I got outside, about to just tell the boy to ask whoever it is outside to leave and let myself hang around to fill my lungs with some real air, I was not prepared for my mouth to drop four inches wide when I see who it is outside.

He notices, and a brave smile settles on his face when he sees my reaction. "So you do know him." And he left me, giving me the space I needed and was about to ask for. I thought someone needed to give him a raise.

At least thirty feet away still, Mason was leaning his back against the side of his car I've never seen him had before, assuming it's new. He looked different than the last time I saw him, which may have been a year and a half ago or something. He had a new hairstyle, for one. It was gelled and combed back, a bit of a few strands sticking out on the corner, making him so handsome I could kiss him if I was straight. He looked slightly more built, like he might've been working out, which he had not for a moment in the past gave much attention to. For a second look, he was dressed so well, and he never, and I mean never, wore a suit. But there he was, suit and tie, business shoes. His face was a cool-like resting face, so cold he seemed to be someone you might have to pull teeth and muscles in order to make a conversation with. When he notices me, all that disappears in the tick of a second, his smile warm, doe eyes coming out of that shadow he has somehow grown into. After a few minutes, I realized what changed about him. He was a boss. He looked like it, and probably, even though I wasn't with him for so long, acted like one too. I loved the old him, but I also loved this new him.

"Oh god, Mason." I was smiling, tears on the verge of coming out, and as he finally stands up and shifts his weight off the car, I'm running toward him in a white robe and slippers looking like some lunatic. He almost falls when I jump onto him, wrapping my arms and legs around him so tight air could run out of his lungs.

Embracing my hug back to me and letting me release him from my legs so he could stand better, he finally leaned back his face enough so he could see me. "I missed you so much."

I wipe at the joyful tears with the back of my hand that has somehow leaked out of my eyes, punching him lightly on the shoulder. "What took you so goddamn long? A visit would've been nice." I was joking, and he probably knew it too, but his expression downpours with a sadness I hated.

"I'm sorry. I was so worried about you though, with what happened about Klarise." He pulls his arms away, running a hand through his perfect black hair. "God, if I knew, if I knew she would hurt you again I would've——"

"We don't have to talk about it," I alter my eyes elsewhere. "Actually, it's best if we just...don't mention it at all."

He nods shamefully, then, pulls out something behind him. A card. "Here, if you ever need me." A giant smile replaces his shameful look, and I take the card in, seeing: Mason Wen, business and founder of...the rest is his number and number of Juno or whatever else. A business card. An official one.

"I'm so happy for you," I say, and obviously I was always happy for him.

It was a good distraction away from Klarise, before then, around that time, I couldn't even say her name. It seemed like I was always trying to look for some kind of a distraction away from the thought of her, always trying to avoid any news about her. It was so unlike the first time she left me.

"Hey," I gave him a small wink, glancing behind him at his car. "Wanna get away?"

He frowns his usual frown—which somehow hasn't left him—and looks on behind at the gray building of the photoshoot set. "Maeve, don't you have a job to get back to? You know, I am your manager and agent, and it is my job to make sure you actually do what you're being paid." As he said that, I could see his expression even faltering at his own words. He wanted to spend time with me. And I did too, so what did it matter?

I took his hand, and with all the grudge he had slowly being overlapped by my words, he followed me as I led him to his car. "Don't you forget, you're also my best friend. A job is something I can get back to later, but spending time with my best friend who I haven't seen in a year and a half? That cannot wait, can it?"

We're already getting into his car when he buckles his seatbelt, turning on the ignition, and giving me a mischievous grin composed of all childish and boyish feelings. "I hate it when you're right sometimes."

I matched his own smile back, leaning comfortably back in the passenger seat, still in a white robe which underneath it all was only a bikini. Sometimes the weirdest materials given at a certain time might as well be the rightest moment.

Until Mason turns to me at one point in the drive, all smiles and grins, and tells me: "Oh by the way, I found my mother. And I want you to meet her."

Luckily I wasn't the one driving, or else I would have crashed his new car.