Dead Ends // Hugh Jackman

Chapter 10

Work isn't distracting me like I need it to. Last night was a whirlwind, but today, it's back to reality. Except I can't stop my mind from trailing off to thoughts about what happened. If it happened. A part of my brain is telling me I had a really vivid dream. The only thing to refute is the ticket with a phone number. Hugh's number.

Odds are it's not even his. It could be his manager's or his publicist. That is the way these things are supposed to go, right? Professionally, I mean. It's become rather obvious that it wasn't a date. Not in the slightest.

When I came home last night, I didn't tell Milo anything. He asked, but I ignored and silently shut myself in my room for the night. Carlos didn't question me on the ride back. Thankfully. I don't know what he's thinking, whether I got the book back or not. I assume he does and maybe that's why he didn't ask. Either way, I was glad he didn't say a word.

I'm trying to transcribe, but I keep drifting back to the moment my eyes found Hugh's in the box seats. About the offer he gave me right before he left.

He can't have meant it, could he? If he did, how could he help me? He's an actor. A performer. Is he at all familiar with the process it takes to publish? How long and never ending it can feel like? Where to even begin that arduous journey of finding a publishing company, the editing, and all those deadlines? All very anxiety inducing.

I won't lie. It's tempting. I've wanted this kind of support for as long as I've been writing and dreaming about being an author. My therapist said I had to make it happen for myself. She never said what to do if someone was willing to help me like this along the way.

What am I supposed to do?

I can't turn to my friends or Milo for advice. If I tell them what happened, who it was that I sent my book too, all hell would break loose. Presly would tell me to go for it for all the wrong reasons. Milo would be rational with me. He'd tell me how wonderful it is but to be cautious, especially in the industry. It's finicky. You don't know who to trust. Avi would agree. Ruth would be nonchalant about it but subtly excited for me. Carlos? I don't know. Sometimes I think I know him. Other days, he confuses me.

All in all, I have to decide this for myself.

Will having Hugh help me be beneficial? Probably.

Will I be anxious 24/7 throughout the entire time? Also, maybe.

There's so many pros and cons to this, and I'm not sure I'm ready for such a leap. I'm afraid the gap between here and there will be too wide, too deep for me to cross.

What if I take that jump, and I fall to my death? That's a bit drastic, but to my frantic mind, it makes sense. Because I could. Not die, but fail so inexplicably hard, I'll be too embarrassed to get back up and try again.

I don't know what to do. I wish the universe would give me a sign.

At the thought, I freeze in my spot on the couch. My laptop is open, and I have the audio playing in my ears. It becomes white noise at the realization, when I think back to what Milo said and to all the times Hugh has in some form or another been thrown into my life.

The universe has already told me what I need to do.

Wait. I reel the revelation back in and look up at the ceiling.

That sounds stupid. To me, anyway.

Like, really? Is this going to be my deciding factor? The universe? Destiny? Fate? Whatever you want to call it. I could throw Hugh's phone number right now and go on with my life. I choose what happens.

...Right?

What if I do that, and somehow Hugh appears in my life again and tries to help? Or, what if I regret saying no, and if I do see him after some time, he avoids me like the plague and thinks I'm not worth it anymore?