Want You Back

23.

I should have been absolutely over the moon.

But I wasn't. I mean, how could I be?

Although it was early, the upcoming Golden Globe predictions were coming in, and it seemed as though the media was convinced I'd snag my first win after a few nominations. Audrey had called me practically in hysterics, babbling on about how proud she was of me before I reminded her that once again, these were just early predictions.

Yet, everyone in my life seemed to be convinced otherwise.

So for days following the release of the predictions, I received calls, emails, texts DMs - everything - from everyone I knew. I stopped responding after the first hour.

My phone and laptop now on 'do not disturb' and a bowl of strawberries in hand, I sprawled out on the couch in my living room, watching mindless episodes of 'Queer Eye'. Apart from the glow of my TV, my condo was submerged in darkness, the only other light source coming from the open windows. The nightlife of LA had begun for the weekend, and yet again, I chose to remain isolated in my home, this time entirely by choice.

I felt depressed.

My panic attacks hadn't been as frequent in the past few weeks, a good sign, my doctors told me, but they'd noticed I'd started to develop other... problems. Perhaps depression.

So now I was being closely monitored by my personal team and practically interrogated from my worried parents, way back in Toronto. The positives of living alone? Complete isolation, whenever I pleased.

I was far from a method actor, but the side effects of playing two dark and deranged characters definitely had taken its toll on me. Unlike my co-star, Jared, I hadn't entirely submerged myself into the psyche that was Harley Quinn, and instead had chosen to do some research on the character, learning everything I could about her.

Which of course led me down the path of her abusive relationship with the Joker.

As for Lady Death... she was the personification of death itself, her character created to give a new meaning to death and the afterlife.

It did nothing to help me with the flashbacks, flashbacks of the time before Luke when life was even bleaker than it was when he was cheating on me. And maybe that's what hurt the most, that Luke and the boys knew about it, and yet they still took advantage of my trust, of me - even after all the secrets I had shared with them, they had still betrayed me.

My parents had been particularly worried following my breakup with Luke. They were concerned it would get bad again and urged me to seek solace in my hometown for a few months to heal whilst surrounded by family. And did I?

No.

I hightailed it to New York City to partake in New York Fashion Week again and drowned my worries and heartache with pills.

But now... three years later, I felt back where I had started.

Even worse, I felt horribly conflicted.

Did I still have feelings for Luke? Yes. Was I over what he had done to me? No. Was I willing to overlook that and pursue him regardless? Probably not.

Yet the connection I felt with him... the spark... it was still there. Real and raw and full of passion and intimacy and lust. But was there still love? And more importantly, was there trust?

He'd been so hot and cold these past few months. One moment laughing with me over breakfast, and the next taunting me at a movie premiere; he was giving me whiplash practically, tossing me back and forth like I was one of his playthings. And maybe in truth, that was all I was to him.