Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Forty-Four: New Year's Eve

"I really don't want to go to this party. I just want to watch an atrocious, cheesy romantic comedy and go to bed before midnight," I informed Hannah over the phone.

It was New Year's Eve, and I just wasn't feeling the holidays this year. Ever since I found myself on the shortlist for a Golden Globe, I had been doing press and selling myself out non-stop. I was exhausted – almost completely dead inside. I once again doubted that I was cut out for the path I was currently taking. Fame was a nightmare for an introvert like me.

To make matters worse, I didn't even have a chance to see my family in Milwaukee, and I knew they were disappointed in me. I never missed Christmas with them. Ever. I really could have used that time to reboot. Instead, I was busy networking with strangers and slowly falling apart.

"Annie, you're nominated for a Golden Globe. You have to go to all the parties through awards season. You're likely going to get the nod for an Oscar too . . . So more parties. I'm sorry. I know it's hard when you just want to act and then lead a normal life outside of that. It's just not possible. It's not how this game works."

I knew she was right. "I know," I muttered quietly. "What time will hair and makeup be at my house?"

"In about fifteen minutes. I'll be there in about an hour. It will get better, Annie. You'll adjust. Let's try to have fun tonight. Just look at it as a night out on the town with me and nothing more. You can even kiss me at midnight because we're both so busy and alone."

I appreciated her trying to back me away from the ledge, but it wasn't working.

"And Annie?" she continued.

"Yeah?"

"Have you decided on a date to the Globes yet? You have less than a week to figure it out."

"Uh, you!" I exclaimed the obvious answer.

"You know I'll be there anyway. Nice try, though."

"I'm hoping my baby brother will be able to make it. He'll know if he can come within the next couple of days."

"And if he can't?"

"Can I go solo?"

"No."

"Then James, I guess. He's a safe bet."

"People will talk if you're out with James. They'll think you're back together."

"Let them talk. I don't care."

"We'll discuss this later. See you soon." She sounded frustrated, and I understood. I wasn't exactly being an easy person to deal with as of late. I was withdrawn. And tired. So, so tired.

I hung up the phone and silently prayed my brother wouldn't have a work conflict that stopped him from escorting me to my first Golden Globes. I could use someone outside of the landmine of Los Angeles to make me feel human again.

***

"I think you should audition for more blockbusters. You have the face and body for it. You might be too good of an actor, though," a wealthy, and most likely very perverted, producer informed me. I already forgot his name. I was so bad at this.

I fake giggled at his suggestion, which seemed to please him, as he placed his hand on my arm with the confidence of young, attractive frat boy. "I'll send Hannah some opportunities for you." Of course he knew Hannah. "You have so much potential." His emphasis on "potential" made me shudder on the inside. I knew where he wanted to go with this.

"That would be great," I said with as much feigned sincerity as I could muster. From his smirk, I could tell he bought it. These producer types were never that hard to fool.

I was trying to think of a polite way out of the conversation without cutting off any opportunity. Fortunately, or maybe regrettably, a familiar voice murmured my name from behind me. "Annie?"

My heart descended into my stomach when I recognized who was speaking. I turned around and was face-to-face with the man I was desperately trying to forget for the past six weeks. The awards buzz had helped my cause, but everything was flooding back now. I wasn't good at emotional overload. This was going to be a problem. "Hi, Christian," I whispered. My voice was so quiet that he probably barely heard me.

He smiled at me, and it was so genuine and warm and different than the smile of everyone else present in the old Hollywood mansion we were patronizing. For a fleeting moment, I felt better. Until I realized the time and work I put into trying to forget him was going to quickly come undone. "What are you doing here?" I asked him. My tone was curious – not accusatory.

"My agent told me it would be good for me to build my brand, and we got an invitation to this." Christian just shrugged. "Can we go somewhere and talk?" he asked, and his voice sounded both hopeful and broken. "I need to tell you something."

I didn't know how to respond, so I opted to introduce Christian to the producer. "Are you by any chance a baseball fan?" I asked the man whose name I forgot.

"Big Dodgers fan. I have season tickets. You should come with me to a game next season." Oh, hell no.

"Well, then you should know this gentleman right here. Christian Yelich of the Milwaukee Brewers. Reigning National League MVP." I forced Christian into the conversation, so I could get away from it. By get away, I meant run away. I had every intention of leaving this party as quickly as I could.

My plan was working so far, as the producer definitely knew who Christian was and started to rapid fire question after question at him. I knew Christian wasn't rude enough to just cut off the conversation and follow me, and I knew that gave me a little time to find Hannah and go. Manipulative? Yes. Best option to protect myself? Bigger yes.

I turned away from the conversation and desperately attempted to find my best friend.

She was never easy enough to find, though.