Exposure • h.s.

CHAPTER11.

The final weekend of my "old life" zoomed by in the blink of an eye. I spent an entire day locked away in my room, contemplating on how to break the news to Liz and, most importantly, muster the courage to confront the daunting future looming ahead.

Rain cascades ceaselessly against the car window as I sit inside, as if the heavens are mirroring my inner emotions. Waiting for me at LAX was an impeccably dressed Louis, wearing a bright smile while holding a sign with my name on it. I can't help but notice that despite it being September and almost one in the morning, it's considerably hotter here compared to New York.

When I got there, there was a jet black car awaiting me outside; to my surprise, I found an embarrassingly large amount of things inside: a basket filled with flowers resting on the passenger seat, a bottle of champagne, all kinds of snacks, Harry Styles merchandise (which I will get rid of as soon as possible, to be honest), and even an expensive pen engraved with my initials. This extravagance unsettles me, as it is entirely uncalled for. After all, I am being paid to do my job; it's not like I'm sacrificing myself or something.

Seeing my embarrassment, Louis reassured me that yes, all those things are indeed for me and that it is part of the warm welcome that Visage Entertainment intended for me. He further told me that such reception is given to all new employees, as a message of brotherhood, shared purpose, and more than just work.

The journey moves slowly as we're trapped in the busy streets of Los Angeles, along with many others who seem to have overreacted to the few drops of rain falling on the rooftops in the area.

I can't stop thinking about the absurd and utterly unpredictable twist my life has taken in just a few days. When I told Liz that I would be leaving our small apartment overnight, she didn't take it well. After throwing a fit about my sudden change of plans, she spent an hour not speaking to me, only to later find me in a catatonic state in my room.
That night, Liz looked like a wounded animal struck by the venomous arrow of my decision to give up our shared space.
I tried to soften the blow by telling her I received an amazing job offer, with a sky-high salary and a guaranteed publishing opportunity with a prestigious company—an opportunity I couldn't pass up.
And I did tell the truth, except for one important detail.
I never wanted to sign that contract.
Since making the deal with Visage Entertainment, I've been regretting it and blaming myself for my ambition to achieve success. But at least my mom will be proud of me. I'll finally be a published author, just like she always wanted me to be.

What brings me some comfort is knowing that when I return, my room will still be there, as I gave Liz the $10,000 check for the rent to ensure I don't lose my place.

Liz insisted on coming with me to the airport and gave me a warm but tight hug at the gate. She pressed her forehead against mine, sensing my tension, and tearfully said, "take care, Mae. Keep in touch."

The only person genuinely excited about this whole situation is my mother. She reacted with an excited scream when I told her the news over the phone. She's been calling me incessantly for the past three days, more than she did during my entire college years.

Louis keeps glancing at me through the rearview mirror, making sure I'm okay and probably wondering if I've already dived into the gift basket waiting for me in the car. The sprawling landscape, with its wide and bustling streets adorned by palm trees and shops shimmering under the moonlight look incredibly different than the usual things I am used to seeing.

"Here we are! " Louis says, adjusting his tie and running his hand through his hair. His words bring me back to reality, and I fix my oversized denim jacket, pink sunglasses holding my unruly hair. I try to hide my trembling beneath layers of clothing covering my body.