The Writer & The Player #Wattys2016

Chapter 16

"Isla! Your breakfast is over here!" I call out to Isla who sits in the lounge room glued to the TV. Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse plays in the background and I can't help but laugh a little to myself. It's her newly acquired obsession, so Zeke tells me.

I place our food down at the breakfast bar, and turn off the gas stovetop, flipping the last few pancakes onto my plate. My phone buzzes in my pocket. A text from Andrew that reads: "You're on the front cover of IT Magazine. Miranda is losing it. Can we talk?"

I sigh. Miranda is losing it in a good way or a bad way? All I know is that I am not ready to be grilled about this by anyone let alone Andrew. Isla is bad enough, questioning what Zac and I are when I can't even tell you.

I shoot a quick text back. "Talk soon, I promise. Spending the weekend with Isla." I stare at the text for a few moments before sending it. That should warn off the dogs for at least the weekend, right? A heavy dread fills my chest. I hate pushing Andrew aside. He knows more about me than anyone and right now I can't even talk to him truthfully. And the things he has done for me, God, I'm a terrible friend.

"Aunty Em! Come, come quick!" Isla's little voice raises from the lounge room sending alarm through my body. I race around the kitchen island to Isla who points to the TV. And plastered over it is Cole and I, at the beach in Malibu. I thought we were done with this.

"Isla, this isn't the kids network?" I say, puzzled.

"I hit a button by accident. Why are you on TV, Aunty?" She tries, her big little eyes peering up at me.

"Are you hungry? Pancakes are on the breakfast bar." I try to change the subject. She jumps up keenly, and begins to strut to the kitchen.

"But why are you on the TV?" She asks again, trying to get onto the chair. I pick her up and place her down, carefully. "I thought only famous people are on the TV's. And you're not famous."

I sit down, pouring some maple syrup over my pancakes. "You're right, I'm not."

"So you're boyfriend's famous?" She tries to understand.

"Something like that, kiddo." I say. The chill of the air leaves little pricks on my skin, and I decide to open the curtains to let some sunlight in. My eyes gaze down to the street down below where a flutter of noise erupts. A few black vans are parked on the sides, people with large cameras jumping out.

I already feel claustrophobic. The door bell rings, catching me out of my gaze. "I'll get it!" Isla says, already jumping out of her seat before I can stop her. I walk to the door to find Isla being twirled in the air by Zac.

"You really do bring a posse with you, huh?" I say, unimpressed. He smiles sheepishly.

"I'm sorry about that. They're only so interested because they know I am coming to see you. And you're a mystery."

"To see Isla, you mean," I correct, "Isn't that right, Isla?" I smile down to her. Her face screws up.

"Does that mean I am going to be on TV, too?" She inquires. Zac's eyes widen a little with concern.

"I hope not. I don't think your Daddy will be very impressed with me if he came home to find you on TV," I say, eying Zac, "Now go finish your pancakes."

She runs off back into the kitchen. "Pancakes?" Zac questions, with a little sparkle in his eyes.

"Yes, pancakes. And if I had known you were coming so early, maybe you would've got some, too." I say sternly, crossing my arms.

He looks me up and down with a grin. "I can see that." I look down at myself and realise I am still in my pijamas, no makeup and a messier than messy bun. And I feel like I could die right then and there. It's not easy dealing with a toddler all night, you know.