𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 {𝐀.𝐁}

Chapter Seven

With the stars illuminating against my silky black night dress, I stare up to the moon. The hope is still lingering deep within my chest as I try to imagine my father staring down onto me with a gleeful smile of how proud he really was.

Talking to the moon was something that had become a habit for the last three years since my father's passing. It brought comfort and contentment as I really believed my father was talking to me, sharing all our stories and not feeling alone whatsoever in this world.

"Hey, dad. It's been–" I check my phones' clock. "16 hours since I've talked to you. And well, I feel like you already know what's been happening but I'll tell you anyways," I ramble on with a small smile.

With the wind stringing over my skin, I hear the beauty of nature within the night. On how the wildlife of owls and insects howl, trees hustling around and the beauty of the moon's luminescence shining onto me, projecting light.

It was the perfect time to feel. The perfect time to let go of all the emotions without anyone around judging. The way I could allow myself to absorb these emotions and truly become myself. Especially since it was crazy for the past few days on set.

"As you know, I'm playing Priscilla Presley. Pretty big deal, I'll say, since Elvis has been your favourite since the beginning of time," I chuckle to myself. I shake my head as I lean down onto the rail and look up to the night sky.

"But it's been abit hard since Austin has been a pain in the ass. He's two faced, I'll say, considering he'll be so flirty, but then he'll go off at me like I'm nothing," I sigh as I recall all the moments on set with him.

"I guess that's part of becoming an actress. You have to deal with people like this, whether you like it or not. But I really think there's something behind this anger of his. Something deeper," I say, furrowing my eyebrows as I realise there was really something behind it.

"Tomorrow is an interview with James Corden himself. Hopefully I don't spoil anything like Tom Holland does," I shake my head with a small smile. The man had a tendency of spoiling so many things of the movies he participates in.

"And..." I take in a deep breath. I was shaken to the absolute core. "Tomorrow marks the third year of your death," I say as I stand up taller and gulp hard.

"I don't know if I can do this interview without bawling. What if something triggers me and I go off? What if I ruin the publicity of this movie and no one wants to watch a movie with the crazy girl who lost her father?" I ramble on.

All these thoughts cloud my judgement as I pace up and down the veranda. I was clearly losing it as I take in a few breaths and stare back into the sky. It was truly comforting, but my mind was still running thousands of miles.

"But I believe I can do this, dad."

《》

Laying in this chaos, I stare up onto the white ceiling of my dressing room. Eyes scanning each detail of the works of the artist, each stroke gleaming against the luminescence of the lights.

"You're on in two minutes," a crew member with piercing green eyes says as she walks into my room. I stare as she smiles with her clipboard in her hands before I nod a quick okay. She scurries off quickly before closing the door behind her.

I can do this. I can be the most believable actress of Priscilla Presley I can be, to show the world that I deserve to be here, that I need to be here.

Sighing, I stand up. I fluff up my curls that are somehow tamed and make my way to the entrance of the stage. Crew members flood the area and I finally see Tom Hanks, as well as Austin himself behind the red curtains.