The life of a newbie in Hollywood and Scarlett Johansson. Will life ever be easy for them?
I'm working on another book right now, the story of Switch, as referenced in this book. Would anyone like to read about that made up story too?
That night, I'm getting ready to go out with Scarlett. My Mam bought a brand new outfit for me to go to Perrie's wedding before she split up with her ex, so given I've never worn that I decide that's the best option. I throw on some boots and my Rolex, and make my way out.
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I jump in the car waiting for me and head over to Scarlett's house, eventually arriving and waiting outside. I send a voice note to Scarlett.
- "I'm here slowcoach, get your arse in gear."
After a few minutes she makes her way to the car, wearing a truly beautiful black dress, matching my outfit perfectly.
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Me: Scarlett, you look, my god. A million dollars honestly. Scarlett: I can't say you scrub up too badly yourself. Me: Well you know, gotta look smart to keep up with you.
We arrive outside of the restaurant to be met by hundreds of paparazzi outside of the venue, our security fighting with them to make a clear path for us to get through. I can tell that Scarlett is nervous around it.
Scarlett: This gives me so much anxiety. Me: Hey, I'm the newcomer in this industry, I should be the nervous one. Scarlett: Y/N you know what I mean. I really don't like this.
Scarlett gets horrific bouts of anxiety around public appearances and paparazzi frenzies, sometimes it can be too much. I put my hand on her cheek and softly push her face so she's looking at me.
Me: Look at me...it's going to be fine. You see the restaurant door, you count how many steps as you go and you'll be okay. You keep hold of my hand the whole time and we'll do it together, okay? Scarlett: I can't hold your hand Y/N, that'll be the first thing in the media tomorrow. Me: Then let it be the thing they write about, we know why you're really holding my hand and that's all that matters.
After a minute of waiting in the car, a gap has formed and the car door is opened by security, revealing the shouting and screaming by the media to get us to look in their direction. I keep my eyes on Scarlett the whole time, making sure she's okay, her hand squeezing tight in mine. Ignoring every question and statement, we enter the restaurant and are seated at our table, away from the windows.
