The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

62

I feel the memory of Mr. Wang begging me for money, or whatever it was he wanted. And the satisfaction of not giving it. A stain leaving my life forever. "Yeah. But I don't think I will see him again."

She nodded, taking another sip. "Afterwards, I just...I didn't want to do C-Pop anymore. None of it, I guess."

"What? Why? You're good, Bridget, you're so good. You were always the best out of all of us, and I should have never..." The rest of that sentence fades, because I couldn't get it to form. "Sorry."

For the first time since we met again, her eyes suddenly stopped wavering. It lands and stays cooly on my face. "I think you should stop apologizing. Or maybe...I don't know. Just let me finish first I guess." She lets one of her elbows rest on the table, that hand unawarely starting to scratch lightly at the back of her neck. "After that, my parents wanted me to go to school, since it wasn't too late yet. Exactly. So I went to college. I couldn't really find a job after that though."

All I could sort of think was, at the time: this was all my fault. But then, something in the way Bridget looked at me, it felt very similar to the way I looked at her. And what did I feel to her? Guilt.

"There was a friend of mine who knew someone in Sacramento. I had a passport, and some other stuff, and plus, where else did I have left to go? There was no room for me in the media by then, people forgot about me. Or if they ever noticed me."

"That's not true."

She smiles warily. "You were doing so good by then. Acting? I never thought about that even, but I guess we live very different lives."

I wanted to take back everything I did to her that moment. I know I said I didn't regret doing what I did, and that is true, but I still felt sorry. Like I've said, one can feel deeply sorry about something yet not regret it. Although maybe in this case it might be different, because later, I felt less sorry for Bridget than I had in years.

"So I arrived in Sacramento, rented a place with my friend's friend, and started to look for a job. It wasn't easy, but eventually, and pretty luckily, I stumbled into Mary. She took me in, taught me some things for backstage, and that was what got me going." She got up, picked up the teapot, and poured some more of the cheap tea into her cup. "Do you want some more?"

I looked down at my cup, which was still completely full. "I think I'm fine."

She nodded, setting the teapot down and sitting in her chair again. "And with Mary's jobs, I also work part-time at the adoption center down in the city. The kids there are rather loud, but I guess it does spread my mind when I help out there." Her eyes wandered around the place before dropping back to me. "But that's basically it. My life. As simple as it is. Tell me about you though, how have you been?" She laughed, a laughter that used to make me blush without understanding why. "I think back then, we all should've known you would've made it to where you are now. It seemed so obvious, I don't know why I couldn't see it."

This time, I did blush a little. But the guilt eats with it. "You could've done it too. You were so much better at dancing. So much better at singing."

Bridget shook her head, a tiny smile going along with it. "I'm fine where I am now. I think it never would have worked out for me."

I wanted to argue against her, because she really had something back then. Still had it now. But the look on her face as her eyes lingered on the teapot, it was all I needed to shut up about it. I guess some people didn't want to think back to what could've been. I always did think back.

"I've seen all of it," she brought the edge of her cup to her lips, two hands gracefully on it, but pauses there, not taking a sip. She sets it a little below her mouth and looks at me, dark wondered eyes. "Your films."