The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

63

I got up from my chair too, stabling my arms around Mary. For some reason I didn't feel like partying, which I had done so much ever since Klarise left. Instead, I just felt sort of sad that this was going to be over soon. All of it.

Mary hiccuped in my half surrounding her arms, barely standing on her two legs. "I think I've had one too many of a drink. I can't have my son seeing me like this——" A hiccup interrupts her.

I started to help her leave the set, waving to the people I had worked for months on set with and saying some of my goodbyes, then leading me and Mary to my car.

I stopped midway, looking back, Mary's arm around my shoulder creating unstable weight. I looked at the building I had filmed at. Long and hard. This place, Mary created, had somehow felt like a second home.

I led Mary and me to my car, ready to drive her home.

She's half asleep when I tuck her in the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt for her. I started the engine, and the dim lights of the film set building glowed in a way I've never seen it done before. It felt like a star.

I looked at Mary, the person I have gotten to know and became partly friends with. And I never told anyone this, not even Mason, but she felt like a family figure.

"Uhh, I'm so sorry, I didn't...I thought it was the right thing." She murmured, stirring in dreams. I smiled, and felt tears stinging my eyes.

"It's not over, Maeve." I said to myself. "It's just a film. Just a film. Like any other." It was an extraordinary film, one of the best I've ever gotten to work on. It was not like any other.

I let the teardrops come, slowly. No one was there to see it.

I looked back at Mary, her face looking suddenly ten times older. She coughed. And stirred.

At least Mary was still there, and if she was, the person who keeps up a smile no matter all the frustrating times, that was well. All was well. Film ending or not, there will still be pieces of it. And that should be enough.

YOU LOOK LIKE A million bucks," Mason said to me, letting the hairdresser leave as he fixes up the few final touches to my curls himself. I had dyed it back to brown, even though it's not really my exact natural hair color, I couldn't take in the red hair anymore, it just didn't suit me.

We looked at our two reflections in the prepare room vanity. It reminded me of the first time we met, him so small and begging at me as I stared at him through the mirror. I guess there's a reason why we don't get to know our futures, because then we'd slack off since we know what will happen, and none of the achievements made would've happened because of the things we didn't do. But who would've seen this? Time was a weird thing. Our reflections felt both warming and strange.

I let my hand wander to his, which was on my shoulder. I rested mine on top of his. "Do you think..." I took in a deep breath. "Do you think this time they'll finally give it to me?"

I looked next to us, on the wall, pictures of actors and actresses with Oscars in their hands.

He bends down, resting his chin on top of my head. I liked it when he did that, it reminded me of him being young and less stressed, mind always a little more carefree, less frowning. "They might. They might not. But whether or not they give it to you, an Oscar to me will just always be an object, and that if you need an object to define how great you are at something, then it's just pitying."

I laughed, "Your words really flow now, I think you're gaining some of that tongue from Cameron. Or is it from business?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that I don't care if you win tonight or not. And I don't care if Stella Bella wins tonight. I just want you to know that no matter what, this film and you will always be the best in my heart, no object can ever tell me that."