Put Me in a Movie

Eight

Sleep came to you easily that night. Adrenaline was still hot and heavy in your veins as your head hit the pillow. You still couldn't believe it. Miguel actually fought someone for you. If he was willing to do that then, was he willing to do anything?

Stella called you early in the morning. By that time, your phone was already blowing up with messages and calls. People asking for your side of the story, people wanting to know the details. You hated people like that, desperate for the latest celebrity news. Maybe that way their lives could feel less lonely. 

"Hello," you said on the phone, voice still groggy from sleep.

"There is no way in hell that I just had to find out from Instagram that Miguel O'Hara fought someone for you," Stella sounded mad. Not at the fact that you had people fighting for you, but at the fact that she had to find out drama from a second party and not you. Stella hated being left out.

"Sorry, Stella Bella, I guess I just forgot." Stella groaned at the nickname. Stella Bella was a nickname that you came up with a few years back. She hated it and you loved that she hated it. 

Stella then proceeds to scold you for the next twenty minutes using almost every curse word in her vocabulary (which was a lot.) She told you that you needed to be more careful. She said that you had a "tendency to act out under the influence." Stella was your friend, but at the end of the day, she still worked for you. You were not going to stand for this blatant act of disrespect. 

"Stella, if you're going to call me and attack me for something that I didn't have control of, at least make your argument interesting, " and with that, you hung up the phone. No 'goodbye' or 'see you later' in sight.

You felt bad, but Stella needed to learn her place. Yes, she was your manager and in charge of your career, but she had no right to talk to you like that. You often missed the funny and witty banter that found its way into your conversations with Stella, but lately, those traits were soon replaced with criticism and hate. Hopefully, she will realize her mistake and apologize.

Later that day on set, you found yourself put off by random things that used to bring you joy. Like Peter's stories about his wife and daughter or Jessica's presence. All you were focused on was what you said to Stella that morning.

Your demeanor did not go unnoticed. A lot of people on set noticed that you were sort of off today. They could tell by the way that your laughter didn't fill the room when Robert, the guy operating the boom, said a stupid joke. 

Miguel noticed that you weren't wearing your bracelet. It was a bracelet your mother gave you before she passed away. You mentioned in an interview once that you never leave home without the bracelet and that if you did, something definitely was wrong.

Miguel let everyone out for lunch early.

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" Miguel asked you.

You nodded and let him guide you to a secluded spot. The action mimicked the one from last night. Your hand in his, guiding him to the dance floor.

"You seem off today," he commented.

"Oh, I'm fine, it's just something I said this morning." You told the truth, but that didn't mean it was the entire truth.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he sounded sincere. Miguel looked down at you, "I can't have my actors going around looking sad. There's work to be done, but if you have something bothering you then I need to know."

You contemplated telling him the entire truth. Would he look at you differently if he knew of the things you said to Stella?

You huffed. You were a grown woman and not to mention one of the greatest actresses of the century. You shouldn't feel sorry for yourself. It was your own fault for bridging the line between business and pleasure with Stella. She was a great person and all, but the only reason that the two of you met was because she saw your potential.

"No, nothing's bothering me. I just need to go and salvage a professional relationship. Other than that, everything's fine now." You thanked him for having that quick chat. You began walking away, eager to eat some lunch when Miguel stopped you. He placed his hand on your shoulder. His touch was light in comparison to the death grip he had on the man that called you bitch last night.

"I just wanted to apologize for last night," Miguel ran his hand through his perfectly styled hair, "I let my emotions get the best of me and I shouldn't have reacted that way."

Why the hell was he apologizing for sticking up for you? Maybe he felt bad because of how unprofessional it looked, but the two of you were dancing on each other seconds before the incident occurred.

Nevertheless, you smiled, "Thank you for the apology, Miguel." You left out the fact that you liked it, that you liked him. You liked the idea of Miguel protecting you. There weren't many things in life that you enjoyed. It was all becoming too repetitive, but he and Fern were the only two things keeping you from going insane. Without them, you were sure that you would have been on the long list of actors and actresses that died way too young.

You turned around once more and walked away. Miguel watched as you walked away and he couldn't help but sigh. At first, he wasn't going to apologize. Then he realized that that might be a dick move considering that his actions might have caused you discomfort or embarrassment. The last thing Miguel wanted was for you to feel those kinds of emotions.

Peter and Jessica immediately sensed your changing mood. The pep in your step was back and the sparkle in your eyes returned. You sat next to Jessica with your tray in hand and smiled at the two adults in front of you. You took your apple from your tray, threw it up with the left, and caught it with the right, giving them a show.

"Well, you sure seem happier," Jessica states matter-of-factly.

"I guess I stopped feeling sorry for myself. Plus, all my problems have solutions so no need to worry," you shrugged.

You needed to apologize to Stella and set professional boundaries. No talking about parties unless they were work events, no talking about personal problems, no gossiping like you were high schoolers, etcetera. And so you did, that night you stayed on the phone talking and devising plans with Stella on the way to navigate the future of your relationship. It would be hard considering your past, but the future is always something to look forward to.

"Glad to see you're all better." You'd received another text from another unknown number, but the number didn't stay unknown for long. This time, accompanying the text was a simple heart made out of a three, a less-than sign, and his name. A name so simple yet it was rich with meaning: Miguel.

You made sure to save the number this time.