Charlie Gillespie Love Story

Chapter 28 - Tipping Point

Just mere days after joining social media again I had to take a cleanse. I posted a video of all the memories on set, thanking everyone for making it possible and asking fans what they thought of the show. 

Little did I know that all the comments would be negative. Nine out of ten were wishing ill on me, so much so that it drowned out any nice comments I read. These were fan accounts for the show that were attacking me. Fan accounts for Charlie.  

Speaking of Charlie... well, at least we were doing just that - speaking. Since our fight, we have indeed laid it to rest, avoiding the topic entirely. He's kept his promise to stop cancelling as much, but our conversations feel strained. It's like the weight of the fight is there, but neither of us is willing to admit it, so it just drags us down into a place where now I'm not even enjoying talking to him. 

Beyond that, I had to bring up the hate. Ask him to help me. I know he and I are struggling with seeing eye to eye on a few things, but he's my boyfriend. Yes, I'm drowning in the fear of losing him and everything we've made, but I'm also drowning in the relentless bullying online.

"Charlie, I- the hate is so intense. I can barely stand to be on my phone. These are your fans wishing harm on me, sending me death threats. I don't know what to do." My voice cracked. 

He didn't even look at me, busy rearranging something on his desk off-screen as he said, "Well what do you want me to do about it? They're new fans, I can't very well reprimand them right at the beginning of my career - I have to earn their loyalty first." He kept talking but my mind went blank.

That's just it. Again, someone else is prioritised over me. Why is it that the one person who should have my back out of anyone, seems to be the only person who doesn't? I'd watch all the interviews he'd done. Watched all the ones for the rest of the cast too. Madi and Owen would defend me to the ends of the earth any time the rumours Amy started were addressed. Charlie? He'd laugh it off, going so far as to make jokes about the situation. Couldn't he see how much pain I was in? 

I ended the call, mumbling that I was tired and not waiting for his response. I felt so alone in the world. I needed someone. I needed a friend. 

Owen... I'm spiralling. Things are going downhill. I don't know what to do.

He responded immediately. I'm on my way. The next flight is in a few hours. I'll be there in a day max. Don't do anything dumb.

I won't. Love you. I responded, and found myself at the dance studio, spending the rest of the afternoon and evening dancing all my emotions out until not only were my limbs numb, but the voices in my head quieted to a point where I could think straight. Where I could hear beyond the hate and see my old self looking back at me in the studio's mirrors.

Owen arrived at noon the following day, dropping his bags to engulfing me in a bear hug at the airport where I picked him up. He had two suitcases and a duffel bag, claiming he didn't know how long he was staying and one could never be too prepared. 

He didn't ask any questions until we were sitting watching Mean girls that night, with braids in both our hair and empty bowls of ice cream in front of us. "What happened, Em?" A simple question. With such a complex answer. 

"I-" and I couldn't even get one sentence out before I burst, tears welling in my eyes as my breathing started to quicken. "He doesn't care." I got out between sobs, Owen pulling me into a hug as I wept into his shoulder. "Death threats." I squeezed out as well, looking to see Owen's eyes go wide but he asked no questions again, rather just told me to breath. I couldn't. My mind was so consumed by the comments and the hate that I barely saw and felt him there in front of me. 

Slut. Whore. Bitch. 

All the comments. It was all I could hear. I was retreating into my mind.

Two hands were on my shoulders. I was shaking. No, I was being shaken. A pair of eyes were in front of me. Owen. He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him - like my ears were blocked. I tried to lip read. 

Owen's perspective:

"Breathe, Em. Three deep breaths, come on." She was having a full-blown panic attack. I was still unsure of what triggered it, but all I knew is that I had to calm her down. She seemed to register what I said, her eyes no longer glazed over and her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to match her breathing to mine. 

"In and out, just like that." I braced my hands on her shoulders again, hoping the touch was somewhat comforting as she calmed down. Once her breathing steadied, I asked her to explain. She spoke; her voice was hoarse but her words steady. 

"You're getting death threats, and he really said there's nothing he can do?" I said in disbelief. I knew Charlie was stupid sometimes, but I didn't realise he was that blind. It's become very apparent to Madi and me how much Em is suffering - I think part of it is living alone, so far away from all the new friends, so she's relying on Charlie more than he does her. 

She sighed, finishing her story by saying, "He was always the one person who saw me. Like I didn't have to explain myself because he just knew. And yet..." She couldn't finish her sentence, but I knew what she meant. 

I see both sides of it, which is why this is so bloody hard. Alright, one task at a time. Em. "You know what I do when my anxiety gets too much?" I probed, and she shook her head, silently asking me to continue. "I try to get out of the house or try to do something that feels like an accomplishment. What if we went on a little camping trip? We could rent a van, drive somewhere and pitch a tent. Oh, and you leave your phone here. It's doing you no good right now." 

She nodded thoughtfully, before saying, her voice croaking a little, "I think I'll get some sleep, but honestly, that sounds like a fantastic idea. We can plan it more in the morning." I smiled, thankful that she seemed a little better than earlier and that she liked my idea. 

I thought about calling Charlie once I settled in my room, but I decided not to - I will let Em sort through everything in her mind first, and then I can try to help the two of them. The miscommunication is killing me. Both are blaming the other and yet refusing to see their perspective. Sure, Charlie has been acting pretty shitty, but he's also been very busy. The blind, idiotic fool. I rolled my eyes, not that anyone was there to see, but it felt good. 

God, I need to get paid for this shit.