Be Brave With Me

Chapter Eighteen

One look at Giuseppe, Romeo's gruff and grumpy great-uncle, and Aura had made to climb onto the truck bed to join Theo and Romeo. But Theo had insisted on her staying safe, riding shot gun in the front with Giuseppe.

The weathered Italian lost some of his fearsomeness when he offered her a cup of strong Italian coffee from his thermos with a kind smile that folded his entire face into sun-worn wrinkles. He lost the last bit when he merged back onto the road, turned the dial on the radio and began to sing along to Gio's favorite aria.

Turning to look out the window, Aura hugged her bag close to her chest and rested her cheek on top of it. Soothed by the familiar sound of the aria, she closed her eyes, beyond exhausted.

Was it not even twenty-four hours ago that she'd gotten ready for the red carpet? Full of nerves and excitement? Now, her body just ... empty. Hollow. Drained.

Her chest was cracked open in the middle. The thing with feathers had fluttered out and away; the flower petals plucked and consulted to tell her future swept away by the harsh wind.

The wound was still oozing, the memories too fresh to ignore.

Her parents. Turning away from her. Her parents. Not seeing her in the crowd. Her parents. Out of reach. Her parents. Gone.

She. All alone on that carpet. The sun, the center of attention.

When all she'd ever craved to be was their sun, their center of attention.

Yet, they had left her behind, melting into a puddle on the floor.

A mere mortal of no consequence to those two gods.

She was in need of a break from her climb up Mount Olympus, she needed some time to rest and regroup, to eat a full meal for once and steel herself for the last push up to the top. Until the media storm around her stupid stumble and fall had quieted down, she needed to find shelter, her version of Camp 4.

Thunk!

Giuseppe slammed through a particular big pothole.

The sudden jolt brought her up. She blinked and squinted her eyes against the morning light. Her gaze caught on the road sign up ahead: Positano, 3 km.

Cold dread sneaked down her back and gripped her stomach in a tight vice.

Fuck.

They had to turn around. How did she tell Giuseppe to stop and turn around? Could he pull that off? The road was barely ten yards wide; a low stone balustrade guarded them to the side of the sea, ragged stone walls towered up to their left. No chance. Of all the places to end up in this world, after everything that had happened... Positano.

Giuseppe took the last narrow turn - and the town opened up in front of them. Colorful houses stacked on top of each other, rising up along the rugged cliffs in narrow alleys. A picturesque beach with orange beach umbrellas in the bay down below. Incredible views. If there existed a picture perfect place on this planet, it was Positano.

Which meant it was Mecca for anyone striving to be someone on Instagram. She knew at least half a dozen people who pilgrimed here every summer. How was she supposed to escape from her life here? Far too many prying eyes and noses with designer sunglasses perched on top of them would await her. All of them able to spot her in a crowd in under a second, all of them eager to add to the buzz, the comments, captions, headlines that must've been popping up online since last night. She squeezed her eyes shut, failing to stop her imagination from running wild...

Imagine having a full meltdown in front of the entire world? I'd die! — Srsly, what's her problem? — That girl needs a reality check, stat. — Ungrateful bitch! — DRAMA QUEEN. ALL CAPS. — Watch Aurelia Carmichael Break Down on the Red Carpet in Cannes. — Own Daughter Upstages The Carmichaels. — Has anyone ever checked the records? She doesn't even look like a Carmichael... — She'll never live up to her parents. Have been a fan of Liz 'n Nic since their first show Off-Broadway & I never got the hype surrounding their daughter, tbh. — That chick needs someone to show her what a good time looks like. All right. I'll do it if no one else can get it up for her. — Typical rich, spoiled Hollywood kid. I see some stints in rehab in her future. — If I were Liz & Nic, I'd be ashamed. Such a disgrace!