Finding Us (Christian Interracial Romance)

Untangling the Darkness

Jeremy 

"You know, it's weird," I start, clearing my throat as I close the door and start pacing around my room. "I've been thinking about the last few years... all those roles. Season three, season five, and especially seven." I pause, feeling the name Rocco Grimshaw stick in my throat like a bitter pill. Rocco—Fuck, that character. It was like he was eating me alive. Sure, I played him, but sometimes it felt like he was playing me."

Drew listens. I can hear him scribbling notes, or maybe he's just shifting in his chair, but he doesn't interrupt. That's something I appreciate about him. He gives me space.

"I still remember when I first told you about him," I continue, my voice a little stronger now. "A cult leader from Paducah, Kentucky—racist, misogynistic, manipulative as hell. The writers went all out in Rituals. Every day, I'd slip into Rocco's skin, and it felt... wrong, Drew. It felt so wrong, but I couldn't stop. The deeper I went into that character, the more I started losing pieces of myself. Does that make sense?"

"It does," Drew says softly. "When you're in a role that dark, that heavy, it's easy for it to seep into your mind, into your personal life."

I nod, even though he can't see me. "Yeah. And it wasn't just Rocco. In season three, I played a school shooter taking place in 2008. Season five, Labyrinth, where I was the mysterious club owner in the '90s. I became the go-to villain guy. 'Oh, Jeremy can do dark. Let's give him the worst of the worst.' I mean, it's not like I didn't know what I was getting into, but... it took a toll, Drew. I wasn't ready for the mental hit."

"Have you felt like this since season five?" Drew asks, his voice gentle but probing, pushing me to dig deeper.

I sigh. "Yeah. That's when it started. The anxiety, the depression... it just crept in slowly. At first, I thought it was work stress, but it never went away. And then the pandemic hit, and I was so glad we wrapped season seven because I don't know if I could've handled Rocco during lockdown."

I feel the need to keep talking, like opening a floodgate. "If I had to play Rocco during the pandemic, it would've been a nightmare. I was already feeling isolated, and Rocco... he was everything I was terrified of becoming. Ruthless. Hateful. Alone."

Drew lets me sit with that for a moment. "Jeremy, it's understandable. You've spent years embodying characters that represent the darkest parts of humanity. Of course, it's going to affect you."

"I know, I know," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "But now I'm typecast. I'm 'the dark guy.' Even though I've got range, no one cares. And worse, I'm starting to think... maybe I don't see myself as anything else either."

"You've spent so much time convincing yourself those roles define you," Drew says thoughtfully. "But they don't. They're just roles, not who you are."

"Yeah," I say, but it feels hollow. I know he's right, but convincing myself is another thing. "I just need to figure out who I am without them."

Drew hums, a grounding, reassuring sound. "And that's what we'll work on. You've spent years embodying someone else, and now it's time to reconnect with who Jeremy is. You're not Rocco Grimshaw. You're Jeremy. You care deeply about the people around you, and you need roles that reflect that, not what the industry wants."

I sit with that for a moment, feeling tears burn the back of my eyes. It's easier said than done. The fame, the recognition—they came from playing people like Rocco. And I'm scared that if I stop, if I ask for something different, they'll forget me.

But Drew's right. I can't let these dark roles keep controlling me.

I want to believe him. God, I do. But I've been stuck in the shadow of these characters for so long, I've forgotten what the sun even feels like.

"It's not just the roles, though," I finally admit. "It's everything else too."

"Everything else?" Drew prompts.

"Hannah." Her name feels like a weight in my mouth, heavy and uncomfortable.

"Right," Drew pauses. "How's your relationship been going?"

I let out a dry laugh. "She broke up with me. I moved out of our New York apartment and flew back to L.A. the next morning, so... you tell me."

"That must've been hard," Drew says quietly.

"Yeah, no kidding." I sink to the floor, leaning against the door. "She left me for Cindy. My acting coach, Drew. I didn't even see it coming."

Drew stays silent for a moment, and I can almost feel the sympathy through the phone. "That's rough, Jeremy. You didn't suspect anything?"

"I mean... not really. I didn't want to. But the signs were there. The lies were there." I shake my head. "And the worst part? She convinced me that Cecilia and Athena came onto her, that they made her uncomfortable. And I believed her."

Drew sighs but doesn't say anything. He's waiting, giving me space to go on.

"I chose to believe her over the two people I've known my whole damn life, Drew. My twin sister, for Pete's sake. And Cecilia? She's been my best friend since forever." I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling the frustration build. "Hannah had me wrapped around her finger, and all the while, she was into women."

There's a pause, both of us letting the weight of it settle.

"You know what's messed up?" I continue, voice quieter now. "When I was leaving the apartment, my neighbor, who's also the dog-sitter, told me. She saw them together and just straight-up said, 'Yep, they're together.' So I left that apartment for good."

Drew doesn't laugh, but I can hear a faint smile in his voice. "Your dog-sitter told you?"

"Yep," I say, laughing bitterly. "She had more honesty in her pinky than Hannah had in her whole body. Funny in a messed-up way now, but back then, it felt like my world was collapsing."

"You've been through a lot, Jeremy," Drew says thoughtfully. "Between the roles and the personal betrayals... it's a lot to carry."

"Yeah." I rub the back of my neck, feeling the weight settle.

"But it's not who you are," Drew says gently. "The betrayal, the roles... they don't define you."

"I know," I mutter. "It just feels like I can't get away from it. Everywhere I turn, there's some reminder of how I let her manipulate me, how I got lost in these dark characters."

"That's why we're taking it one step at a time," Drew says, his voice steady. "You're not Rocco Grimshaw. You're not defined by Hannah. You're Jeremy, and we're going to help you rediscover who that is."

I want to believe him, but the road ahead feels so damn long. "I want to move on," I say softly. "I just... I don't know where to start."

"We'll figure it out," Drew reassures me. "One step at a time."

For the first time in forever, I actually believe him. Maybe there's a way out of this darkness after all.