Hinder • {Bill Skarsgård}

||Chapter Twenty||

The splitting headache was the least of Ella's worries when she heard footsteps coming from the hall. She groaned, turning over away from the sunlight peeking in through the blinds. That was a mistake; her stomach grumbled—her heart pounding in her brain. She remembered the whiskey on the table, wanting to drink it to rid the effects of sobriety. She was sober now; her body in the stages of recuperating from the two day bender. 

She assumed Bill had stayed the night—probably stepped out for a cigarette. But when she heard the voice calling her name, her eyes snapped open.

Ella sat up; her body aching in a way that felt like she had been hit by a bus. She kept her eyes on the hall, just waiting for Dean to make his appearance. When he stepped into view, she felt her insides recoil.

"What are you doing here?"

"Great to see you too, babe... really." Dean spat, setting his luggage next to the recliner. He sighed, placing his hands on his hips.

"I just mean... I didn't expect you back until Friday."

"I got a phone call."

Shay.

Ella clenched her jaw, immediately regretting it as it caused her head to throb even more.

"I'm so sorry. There's so much going on right now... I couldn't talk to you about it over the phone."

"Yeah." Dean nodded with pursed lips. "Yeah, I know. I walk through the door and the smell hits me like a brick."

Ella groaned, burying her face in her hands. "You have no idea what I'm going through."

"Oh I've got an idea. I gotta phone call last night... Bill dropped out. He's no longer my lead."

"I'm so sorry." Ella managed to say.

"So that's gonna set me back another month, until we find someone to replace him. I thought, 'okay, I knew Bill Skarsgård being my lead was too good to be true, it's alright.'" Dean sat down on the arm of the recliner, his eyes on anything but Ella. "But then he said something to me... about you. You know what he said?"

Ella cringed. Her insides twisting in a way that made her headache not seem so bad. Bill had told Dean. That bastard had told him.

"He said to me, 'You have to talk to Ella as soon as you can. There's something she needs to tell you.'" Dean's eyes finally fixed on Ella; there was an emptiness settling—a darkness that was beginning to take over his typically passive nature. "I'm not gonna lie, it threw me off. I thought to myself, 'how in the world does he know what's going on with Ella?' And 'what does he mean that there's something she's gotta tell me?'" Dean became antsy, his fingers fidgeting as his leg began to bounce. "Then it hit me." Dean forced a smile; his jittery movements coming to an abrupt stop.

Ella couldn't speak; she couldn't feel her mouth to say a word.

"It's him, isn't it?" Dean asked in a low whisper. "I feel like a dumbass. It took me two hours to figure it all out. In retrospect, it was actually about three years, but to be fair, you never even told me you were married."

"Dean-" Ella tried to plead.

He shook his head, "You had three years to talk to me about this, it's my turn to talk." Dean folded his arms, trying to hide the unsteadiness of his hands. "I have worked my ass off for the past six years to write that goddamn screenplay. Do you have any idea what it's like to work so hard on something-" Dean shook his head again, "You've never worked hard on anything. You've always taken the easy way out. You never try at anything because you're afraid of failure. But you know what really makes you a failure?... not even trying. Running away at the first sign of trouble... to me, that's failure."