Miss Americana and The Hearbreak Princess

Chapter Thirty Eight - Shake It Off

"But for a while, after that, things were better. It was like we were on the same page for a moment before one of us managed to skip ahead and throw things off-kilter again, and it was good. For a moment, we were able to catch our breaths and put our worries to bed. The publicity stunt with Nicky last about another two weeks, but Freen and I were trying our best. It was- well... every day was a struggle. It was hard to make plans for the future when we were just trying to make it to the next week."

"At any point, did you think you had a future together?"

Becca's mouth lifted slightly at the corner, but there was a rueful twist to her lips and a too-bright spark in her eyes as she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. 

"Oh, of course! It was so tumultuous and fast, our relationship, and I had this silly little daydream about us running away and getting married and throwing away our careers for each other. It was a nice dream, but it was nothing more than that. But I could see it. I could see us together, and I was scared of letting it slip through our hands, but I was scared that we'd reach that point too."

"Because of your... situation?"

"Situation," Becca snorted.

Shifting in her seat, the leather quietly squeaking and the rich smell of it wrapping her in a comforting embrace as she chewed on the inside of her bottom lip. 

Her frayed nerves had settled and Becca felt comfortable enough that she could almost pretend that Mei was an old friend invited over to have tea, drinking in front of the urban red-bricked view of the dreary day outside as they talked about old memories. 

Yet Becca was keenly aware of the gentle manipulation of the conversation which led her to divulge the painful and buried past that she would've liked to forget about.

The quiet hum of camera equipment and the imperceptible shifting of too many people in the room also ruined the close and intimate setting of the interview, which failed to escape her notice no matter how long they talked. 

It was like being under a microscope and having the skin flayed from her body for an extended period of time. Excruciating and vulnerable and not an altogether pleasurable experience, even though she'd voluntarily subjected herself to it. 

Demanded it even. It was something she endured through her own stubborn determination, a martyr of her own volition, and she was hoping to get through the rest of it quickly so that it could all be over.

"Situation is a nice way to phrase it, but yes. We were caught between a rock and a hard place because either there was no future for us, in which case we were going to break our hearts once more, or there was a future there and we wouldn't be able to have it, which was its own form of torture. Despite what I imagined in my silly daydreams, it was never a possibility. I never entertained the thought as anything more than a fantasy. I would never give up my career unless it was my decision, and the same went for Freen. For either of us to ask that of the other... it would've been the most selfish and inconsiderate thing to do. It was just- it was unthinkable. Neither of us would ever ask the other to give up, essentially, our livelihood."

Pausing for a moment, Becca cocked her head to the side and let out a short laugh, "perhaps we should've. I can't imagine it would've made things worse now."

They left the ski resort in Utah on Christmas Eve, and even though Freen was Jewish, Becca flew to Midvale with her for the holidays, instead of following her mother home to London. 

With so much flying back and forth, Becca wanted to stay relatively close, with a performance scheduled in L.A. for New Year's Jen, which would mean another trip across the states. A few days with Freen in a small town was a small Beer in the midst of her busy schedule.