Night On Set ❁ COLIFER

Chapter 87 ❁ The Colin Catastrophe

❁ Half of this isn't really edited since I'm too tired to check for mistakes 😂 Soooo ignore the typos, eep 🙈 ❁

Jen's POV

Are you afraid it's over?

Julia's words leave a silence that is longer than usual, because for the first time, I'm forced to even consider that option. And my heart drops. My mouth gets dry in an instant, which is why the words come out hoarsely. "I don't know."

Saying that out loud hurts, because it's the truth. This is when fifteen-year-old me would've changed the subject, smacked Julia with a pillow and laughed it off, but thirty-five-year-old me is being weighed down by the colossal weight of those words.

I don't know if we're over.

"Okay, but you see," I start saying as I turn to my side, and that's when Julia suddenly holds a finger in the air in front of me.

"Hold that thought. I'm going to share some wisdom with you first."

Swallowing my words, I raise a brow. "I thought I was supposed to the older and more experienced sister."

"Yeah, well, it's no secret that your dating life is close to non-existent and your experience with guys doesn't stretch further than your costars—which I'm not blaming you for, because Hollywood has some hot stuff to offer."

"Oh my god, Julia," I groan loudly, burying my head in my pillow. This is more like fifteen-year-old me, only I would be pulling out a notebook and some pencils by now to make a list of all the reason why Julia should dump the neighbor boy, and why she shouldn't.

A list, the voice in my head echoes briefly, maybe that's not such a bad idea.

Before I'm able to act on that impulsive (and childish) idea, Julia matter-of-factly sits up to cross her legs and look me solemnly in the eye. I almost feel like she's going to whip out a Ouija board and start summoning ghosts when she gives my hand a firm squeeze to snap my thoughts back to her.

"Jen, when it's over, you know. You just do. And the way I see it, there's two different kinds of fighting: fighting because you desperately want to get out of a relationship, and fighting because you know that what you feel for the other person is something worth fighting for. You fight because of yourself or you fight for the other person. Who are you fighting?"

Fifteen-year-old me is stunned at where my sister got all that wisdom from. Thirty-five-year-old me is gaping equally as stunned at her, because I can't even answer that question.

"When it's over, you know." She squeezes my hand again. "So. Do you know?"

"Jules, I..." I let my gaze travel through the room in search of something that will help me put the right words together, but I know nothing's just going to fall out of the sky to help me. "This isn't even relevant, because we're not fighting. It's not like... I left Van before anything happened. It's just radio silence now."

"Radio silence between who?" a low voice sounds from the doorway, and both Julia and I nearly jump out of our skin. I snap my head back right when she snatches up a pillow and flings it at our brother, who's perched in the doorway with a bright smile on his face.

"Daniel David Morrison, don't go sneaking up on people like that!"

Daniel closes the door behind him with the smuggest smirk playing on his lips, unfazed by the pillow that smacks him in the face. He simply kicks off his sneakers at the end of the bed—he never unties his shoelaces, unless he's wearing dress shoes—and plops down between us, folding his hands over his stomach. "Watcha talkin' about?"