Leading Lady | Charlie Barber x Reader.

Hollywood.

*TW- Suicidal thoughts, alcohol and drugs mentioned, it ends fluffy.*

...
You finished off the play without any further interruptions. You made it through each performance well, before going back to your dressing room and shutting yourself off from everyone. All you did was act and sleep. You didn't want to see your friends, you text them about the news of the upcoming film, but you couldn't bring yourself to see anyone, you just needed solace. You barely ate, barely breathed, your heart and soul snapped down the middle. Breakfast, lunch and dinner had become cigarettes and several shots of liquor. 

Charlie didn't come to the last few performances, leaving Dylan in charge of the company. You quickly learnt that Mary had been fired from her position, relief of not having to see her again almost made you feel better.

Charlie left for LA early, starting a new job there at the university. He never said a single word, never said good-bye, never said he loved you back, it was almost as if he had never existed. The only reminder that he was real was the pain in your chest, the ache in your lungs, the tears in your eyes. Your heart had turned to ice, cemented over and unable to beat. There was nothing left to smile for without him. It was time to let old things die.



***8 MONTHS LATER***
You woke up in your bed, early enough to hear the birds singing, the daylight just peeking out of the gap between your blackout curtains. You rolled over, clutching your plush Egyptian cotton sheets over your smooth skin. A man was laying next to you, his chest rising and falling slowly in a deep sleep.

God...what was his name again?

You couldn't remember. But he was attractive enough, his mousy blonde hair was messy and splayed out on the soft grey pillow. You nudged him gently with your fingers, causing him to flutter his eyelids open, his jade green eyes looking back up at your own, a faint smile on his lips.

"Good morning gorgeous...some night last night huh?" He said, his voice gravelly with sleep.

"Hm." You muttered, you didn't remember anything at all from last night. Much like all the nights before.

"Were you waking me for round two?" He chuckled whilst his fingers outlining his morning glory.

"I wasn't. You can leave now." You spat.

"Oh...okay." He said, sitting up and grabbing his clothes that were discarded on the floor of your penthouse.

The man got dressed quickly, making sure he has his wallet and his keys before he made his way to the door.

"Will I see you again?" He muttered, eyebrows furrowed.

"Probably not, goodbye...whatever your name is." You said, turning your back to him in bed.

"You really are a bitch..." He snapped, slamming the door behind him as he left.

He was right, you were a bitch. A cold, emotionless bitch. But being a bitch was easier than being weak, you didn't allow yourself to get attached to anyone anymore. Sex was fine, it was a pass time, in the moment you felt alive but once it was over, you felt nothing. You hadn't felt anything since Charlie left. No one made you feel as good as he did, and you hated him for that. He still owned every part of you.

You hadn't seen Charlie Barber in eight long months...The pain was still there, in your chest, but it was smaller now, fading a little more each day. You still dreamt of him, still remembered the scent of oranges and cedar wood that drenched his clothes, still remembered the way your skin burned under his touch. And his eyes, those pits of honey and emerald. He lingered in your soul, like a menacing phantom. You still loved him, but you also hated him. You hated that he was gone, that he had used you. You hated yourself for still longing for him.

You sat up in bed and looked around your penthouse. After wrapping up the play in New York, Liz moved you out to Los Angeles. She paid for the most glamorous penthouse, it was enormous, your tiny New York studio was barely the size of the ensuite bathroom. It was the ideal bachelor pad for a Hollywood star, yet it lacked heart, it wasn't cosy, it wasn't you. The walls were white and clinical, the floors were onyx marble. There wasn't any colour, no personality, it was just minimalist and vast. But really you didn't care, it was private and secluded, perfect for you and your new persona.

When you first moved to LA you had thought about finding Charlie, maybe turning up to the university he worked at and saying hello, perhaps bringing him a coffee. But you couldn't do it, you couldn't face him again. Elizabeth told you that he was bad news, that he would interfere with your career, and you couldn't argue with her.

Elizabeth managed your life, she booked interviews and events, made sure you were well looked after and content. She completely changed your style the minute you unpacked your bags in your new apartment. She changed your hair, your style, drowning you in Gucci, Chanel, Cartier and Versace. Your wardrobe alone was worth a small fortune. When you dressed up you barely recognised yourself anymore, that young, innocent girl was now a glamorous, polished, bitch. A perfect illusion. But in a way you loved it, you loved the attention you received, the admiration you craved...But once you were stripped bare and alone, you were just as broken as before. Just a mirage of damaged goods.

You didn't speak to your friends anymore, they didn't come to visit and deep down you didn't want them to. They would just remind you of Charlie...just like everything else did. He was constantly the voice in your head, the word angel making your head spin every time you heard it. You swear you could hear him in your mind when you weren't intoxicated.

But you didn't need friends, you could solely count on Elizabeth. She was kind, she made sure you had everything your heart desired, whether it was money, sex, drugs...whatever you wanted, it was yours within the hour. You had latched onto unhealthy habits, anything you could find to keep you numb, to empty your body and soul of heartache. You realised that cocaine and coffee wasn't a balanced diet, but still you didn't care.

Vic and Mary hadn't bothered you either, god knows where they were right now, but as long as it wasn't near you, you didn't let yourself dwell on it. No doubt they were out tormenting other unfortunate people who trusted them. But they were a thing of the past, and you needed to let the past die.

Your phone rattled on the countertop next to you, no longer the phone Charlie had bought for you, you gifted that to Rose when you moved.

"Hello?" You sighed, wrapping your pink silk robe around your body.

"The superstar is awake." It was your PA, Myles.

"She is now. What do you want?"

"Well...it's the première tonight, I just wanted to make sure you were awake and ready to get going." He mumbled, sounding frustrated.

"Oh, sure, I'm ready. What's first on the agenda?"

"Your dress fitting, Monica will be with you in an hour. Then hair, make-up and then it's off to Graumans Chinese Theatre. Roger?" He said.

"Roger." You mumbled, hanging up.

The première... The night you thought would never come. Working on Tammy, the movie, was unlike anything you had every imagined. Painfully long hours, mountains of script, a cringey co-star who you couldn't stand, to name a few things. But now it was over you were crying out for your next project. You missed theatre, you missed performing for a live audience, instead of a bunch of overpaid, power hungry men who would give anything to get between your thighs. But Elizabeth kept you motivated, as your agent she did a brilliant job. But she was also a bad influence.

Before you moved to Hollywood you were shy, timid, flustered and clumsy. She had turned you into a perfect, well oiled machine, a beautiful star. But no amount of shiny toys and extravagant clothes could push away your demons. You reached for a small bottle of vodka that was standing on your dresser, taking a large swig of it. You went to your kitchen counter, creating a considerable line of cocaine for yourself, sniffing it up and savouring the burn...your old self was now consumed in new vices that got you through the day.

You walked over to the large body length mirror in your bedroom, looking at yourself closely. You had little colour in your cheeks, your face was gaunt and there were suitcases of purple under your eyes. Your new hair was dull and lank. Your body was thin and frail, collar bones and ribs so obvious under your robe. But you didn't care, you didn't want to care. You just wanted to feel, the pain inside you was now apparent on the outside. You were simply a hollow shell.

After a few more swigs of vodka you got into the shower, letting the hot water consume you. It was always your safe space, being under the jets, letting last nights one night stand wash away.
After your shower you went back out into the penthouse, slipped into some nude lingerie and went out onto your balcony to have a cigarette. The summer heat engulfed you as you sat, breathing the toxins in and out. Smoking had become another one of your vices, the same tailor mades Charlie smoked. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel him next to you again.

"Hello! I'm here!" Monica's voice called out.

Monica was the best stylist in Hollywood. She was quirky, bright purple hair, big round glasses and a little pinup style dress, all wrapped in a big smile. She was friendly enough, but you didn't allow yourself to get too close to her.

"Hi Monica, what do you have for me?" You said, stubbing out your cigarette and going back inside.

Monica laid three white bags out on your bed, allowing you to have a look. All three dresses were beautiful and glamorous. A red one, black one and a peach one. All dripping in gems and sparkles, low necklines and tight waists. Elizabeth made it clear to you that in Hollywood, sex sells, and these gowns exuded sex appeal.

"The black one is my favourite." You said, stroking the beaded material.

"Ah, the Valentino. Good choice, superstar." Monica grinned.

She helped you into the dress, discarding your bra so the small crossover straps hugged your breasts. You felt sexy and confidential, the black shimmery material sucking in every inch of you tightly.

"Magnificent. Now, I've bought a Harry Winston, Tiffany earrings and some Chanel heels." She said, attaching the several karats to your body, slipping the shoes to your feet. "How does that all feel?"

"Perfect, thank you."

"Brilliant. Hair and make-up will be here shortly." She said. You slipped the heels back off and took a seat in front of your dressing table.

"Could you pass me the vodka?" You said, gesturing to the half empty bottle on the counter.
Monica passed it to you, a worried expression on her face, noticing it was still early.

"Nervous?" She asked.

You swigged the bottle, wincing as you swallowed the clear liquid fire.

"A little."

She gave you a small pat on the shoulder in support, making you flinch. You didn't like to be touched anymore, unless it was by a dumb male model when you were completely blind drunk.
Your hairstylist Amanda and make-up artist Kim entered the penthouse with a small knock, both wheeling their suitcases behind them, ready to get to work.

"So...because the dress is sleeveless, I think your hair should be up, to show off those wonderful collarbones." Amanda said, twisting your hair in her fingers. You nodded, letting her do what she wanted as you slumped into the chair.

She covered you in a gown and began brushing and curling your hair, pinning it in place as she went. It looked beautiful, soft and intricate, some pieces hanging down in front of your face. Once you were both happy, she sprayed it with almost an entire can of hairspray to keep it in place.

Kim worked on your face simultaneously, covering your deep bags from your sleepless nights. She softly coated your eyelids with smokey brown and black shadows, topped with a sharp winged liner. Finally adding a bright red lip, with a velvet finish.
You looked in the mirror and felt beautiful, you hardly recognised yourself, it's no wonder these ladies were the best in the business.

"Shall we have a glass of champagne? This is a big night for you, angel." Kim said.

Angel.

That name was like a knife in your chest, holding so many memories.

"What have I told you about calling me that?" You snapped.

Kim looked at you and furrowed her eyebrows, your tone putting her on edge. You drank down the sweet bubbles quickly, savouring the flavour. You already felt light headed, warm and tipsy.
This was going to be a long night.

Once you were finally ready, you made your way to Elizabeth's home. You driver made sure you were topped up with champagne, as you approached the tall, gated manor. Her home was beautiful, as grand as she was. As you made your way inside, she came to greet you.

"I see you went for the Valentino?" Liz said, smiling.

"Yes, it was my favourite." You said, trying to keep your head up.

"Well you look perfect. Are you excited to see your face on the big screen?"

"Yes, I am... I'm just nervous. What if the review's are bad?" You shrugged.

"Don't worry about things that have not happened yet, love. You are a star. Tammy is a star. Everyone is going to love you." She said, holding your hand.

"Thank you, I know I shouldn't worry."

"No more worrying. We must celebrate." She smiled, leading you into her home.

Inside were several people who had worked on the film, producers and actors, assistants and directors. The atmosphere was electric. Everyone cheered when they saw you enter, showering you with praise and compliments. It was claustrophobic, you felt your breath quicken. You hastily made your way to the bathroom and made yourself two more lines on your hand. You held one nostril down and sniffed the powder up, revelling in the feeling. You stood up gently, glancing at yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful, but on the inside you were rotten.
After more small talk and alcohol, the time chased up with you and it was time to head out to the premiere. Kim touched up your make-up, making sure you still looked flawless and you all made your way to the limo's. You co star, Harry, sat by your side. You smiled at him gently, as much as you didn't get on, you knew the nerves he was feeling in that moment. You both silently consoled one another.

You glanced at your phone in your Fendi clutch bag, no new messages. It was as if everyone close to you had vanished and you were just surrounded by strangers. You didn't even know yourself anymore.

As you arrived at The Chinese Theatre in the centre of Hollywood you noticed the sea of paparazzi and journalists, the cameras flashing, burning into your cornea's. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the limo with Eric close behind you, his hand on your lower back comforting you slightly.

The anxiety gripped you tightly as you heard the photographers shouting you, calling your name loudly, getting you to turn to them and pose, like a mannequin. You felt frozen, the alcohol and cocaine catching up with you, your head spinning from the brightness of the flashes.

"Over here! Over here!"
"On your left please! Beautiful!"
"Yes, right in front please! That's it! Smile!"

Their shouts were the only thing you could focus on as your body felt glued to the ground below you, it was overwhelming. You would give anything to be back in your bed, away from the eyes of the world.

"Are you okay kid?" Harry whispered in your ear.

"Yes...it's just...suffocating." You said back.

"You're okay, just enjoy the moment."

You wished you could but you couldn't, you felt like you couldn't breathe.
Harry lead you further down the red carpet, away from the sea of vultures that screamed and flashed at you. As you went inside the theatre you felt your anxiety creep away, finally. All you had to do now was sit and enjoy the film that you had worked so hard on. Finally you would see Tammy on the big screen.

As you took your seat, the director came out on stage.

"Hello everyone! Thank you all for being here tonight. Thank you to everyone who worked so hard on this project, we are so happy. Now, a few words, from the man who created this captivating story..."

Your throat tightened, your stone heart thumping in your weak chest, not wanting to look up. He walked onto the stage, almost as if time had stopped. Your eyes moved up towards the stage, and there he was. It was as if he walked in slow motion.

Charlie looked just as perfect as you remembered, even after all this time. His hair was a little longer, delicate raven waves crashing around his face. His face, still so beautiful, his whiskey coloured eyes shining in the spotlights above. Your breath quickened as your thoughts went frantic.

Why was he here? Why did Elizabeth not mention this? Is his wife here too? Your thoughts were going ten to the dozen, and then he finally spoke.

"I would like to thank Elizabeth March, for taking my project and running with it. I'm incredibly lucky to see my work play out on a screen like this, in front of all of you."

Oh, his voice...thick like blackstrap molasses. You had missed it so much. You watched him intently and hung on every deep syllable.

"I hope you all enjoy this, as much as I enjoyed writing it. Tammy is truly an incredible character and she deserves her moment, and she is being played by the most exceptional young actress. There is no one else who could play this role." He said, his eyes drifting to you.

"I can't tell you how proud I am of you." You choked back your heavy breath, heartbreak tearing you apart.

Your chest burned, you felt the knots inside of you twist and stab, his eyes lingering on your face as you teared your own away. It was too painful, you couldn't believe he was standing there. You couldn't believe he was real.

Were you still in bed? With that dumb blonde, still dreaming?

Charlie looked at you deeply, his heart thumping in his throat. You looked so different. You looked older, frail and sad...but still so beautiful, the jewels around your neck glittering, sending small beams of light onto your cheeks. He watched you as you turned your head away, he saw the pain in your face. He desperately wanted to run to you, hold you, tell you he loved you and that he had never stopped loving you. But as he walked off the stage, you ran.

You ran out of the theatre, leaving your shoes under your seat. Harry tried to grab your arm but you pulled away fiercely, the lights going dark for the film to begin. You couldn't stay in that room, Charlie's presence was too painful, too threatening, too heavy. Memories flooding back into your mind of the night he left you and broke you in two.

You kept running, up the staircase, desperate for air, desperate to escape. You made it to the roof of the theatre, the warm evening air caressing your body as you breathed in and out heavily, swallowing the oxygen as if you were just stranded below the ocean.

Hollywood was what you had always dreamed of but it was eating you alive, you couldn't go one day without destroying yourself to cope, the sober you was a distant memory. You were a mess, riddled with pain and darkness. You didn't let anyone help you, or get close enough to hurt you. You were more alone than you had ever been.

You wobbled on your bare feet, making your way to the ledge. You stood up slowly, looking down at the steep drop, there was relief...the fall would free you from the pain. You let your tears run freely, a silent screamed escaping your throat.

"Angel..." There was his voice again, always in your head, making your tears fall harder. "I'm here."

You didn't turn around, you couldn't. You couldn't bare to see him up close.

"Angel...can you hear me?" He said softly, his voice coming closer. You felt yourself rock back and forth as your limbs went limp, teetering on the edge of the tall building. The sweet relief of the fall was calling you, bur Charlie's voice was stronger.

"Please, come away from the edge...let me help you, please." He pleaded. You could smell him now, the soft scent of oranges and cedar wood. Just as intoxicating as ever.

"I can't do this." You croaked, a deep sob leaving your throat. "I'm being torn apart."

"Please... just come to me, please angel."

You turned on the ledge, your feet were sore as they dug into the sharp bricks. You closed your eyes, but you could feel him, feel his warmth, his breath, he was close to you. You slowly opened your eyes, and there he stood. In his perfectly pressed black suit, his eyes found yours and you felt yourself spiralling.

"Just let me fall..."

"Never." He whispered, pulling you into an embrace.

You felt your small body curl into him, his strong arms engulfing you, holding you so tightly. You sobbed into his chest, the pain easing little by little as you melted into him.

"I'm here baby, I'm here. I should have told you, that..." He sighed, holding you close, stroking your hair. "That I loved you. And I'm so sorry...for everything."

You couldn't believe it. He loved you too, after all this time. It was like you were Tammy, living her painful existence. Charlie was the man you loved, and finally he was telling you how he felt, but you were still alive to hear it. You looked up at him slowly, he brushed the tears from your eyes and within seconds his lips met yours. They were soft and slow, kissing you not just with lust, but with love. Maybe for the first time.

"I'm not the same person I was Charlie...I'm broken. And I don't know if I can be put back together again." You sighed.

"I will spend every day piecing you back together. I'm not going anywhere." He cooed. For the first time in months you allowed yourself to be held. You believed him, and you loved him. You always had.

"I love you too." You whispered into his chest.

"I know angel. Come on, get back down there and watch yourself on that screen. You've worked so hard, this is your moment." He said, wiping your tears away.

You took him by the hand and he lead you back to the screen, luckily it was hard so no one noticed you had left apart from Harry. As you took your seat Charlie handed you a small piece of card.

'Angel. Meet me at the after party. CB.'

You looked up at him and nodded and he went back to his own seat. Harry rubbed your shoulder gently, asking if you were okay without words. You nodded at him and let your eyes fall on the screen, and there you were. You let out a small sigh and finally allowed yourself to smile.


*AN- I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! We got some demons but now we have Daddy Charlie to take care of us. Thank you all for reading, I'm absolutely gassed. Please comment! I want to know what you all think! Love Sith Kween!*