by Dani McLean
“I’m sure. Let them know I’m about to record a live guest spot with the fancast, ‘The Pantheon’ to hype up the new season.”
“Any more surprises you have for me?”
“No.”
“Good. While I appreciate your enthusiasm, J, maybe next time you talk to me about this first.”
“Yeah, Terry. I will. Good luck with the network.”
“Won’t need it. We’ve got this.”
I hoped so. I was never one to count my chickens, but the additional money would go a long way toward paying back my parents, as well as allowing me to start saving for the future.
A future that seemed a hell of a lot closer than it had a few months ago.
All this time, I knew I wanted to get my shit together enough that I would have something to offer when the right person came along, but outside of a stable job and security, both of which were a relative impossibility as an actor, I’d never given any thought as to how my life might have to change to make it work with the right person.
My life right now wasn’t exactly ideal for building a strong relationship. I worked all the time, and before we even finished filming the season, I’d be starting the press circuit, not to mention award season, then when we did finally finish filming, I’d be flying to New York for three months to film Subversion. Rinse, then repeat.
I could hardly ask Audrey to put up with all that. And what? Wait until things settled down to start a life together?
She deserved better.
Considering what she’d gone through with her ex—and I wished there was a way to erase the doubts he’d sown—it was all the more amazing how compassionate she was. That her kindness and strength had survived years of putting herself aside for someone else.
I wanted to help her celebrate that, show her all the things I saw when I looked at her, protect her from ever doubting herself again, give her something stable to rely on.
Audrey messaged me good luck as I arrived, saying she couldn’t wait to listen to it later. I send back a thank you and spent at least two minutes arguing with myself over whether I should add a kiss emoji before I realized I was being ridiculous and left it off.
Then I sent it because if being in love made me ridiculous, then so be it.
Two friends ran the podcast out of their apartment along the Green Line, and I’d timed it, so I was knocking on their door five minutes early.
Sabine answered the door, Hunter a half step behind her, and their mutual excitement was evident in their expressions.
I shook Hunter’s hand while Sabine directed me over to a round dining table where they’d set up three mics, along with headphones for each of us and the laptop they were recording with.
“Thanks again for reaching out. We’re really excited to have someone from the show.”
“Of course, I’m definitely a fan of the podcast. The recap you did on last season’s finale was hilarious.”
“Wow, thanks! That means a lot,” Hunter said with a smile.
“Yeah,” Sabine added, “I mean, we just started it for ourselves, a way to geek out over different mythology as well as talk about the show, and people liked it enough for us to keep going.”
“Now your mic is already wired up and ready to go, but can I get you some water before we start?”
“Thanks, that’d be great.”
Hunter returned with a glass for us both, and we all made ourselves comfortable around the table. I slid the headphones on and did a quick sound test to make sure everything was in order before Sabine gave the signal that we were live.
“Jackson! We can’t tell you how thrilled we are that you’re here,” Sabine added once they had run through their intro.
Hunter nodded. Though we were only recording audio, I suspected it was a hard habit to break. “We’re both huge fans.”
“Hopefully, this means we can get more of the cast on here some time.”
I chuckled. “I’ll be sure to put in a good word.”
“So, let’s jump right in and talk about season three. Obviously, the biggest change is Ares switching sides and becoming one of the good guys, although we can only wonder how long that will last, given his track record.”
“I’m pretty excited to see Wes get his ass kicked this season.”
“Aren’t we all,” I joked. “He’s a crafty god, that one. You can pretty much always bet that he has a plan, especially when things aren’t going his way.”
“That must be interesting to play against?” Sabine asked.
“It is. And Ryder doesn’t trust him at all, so there’s a lot of animosity between them. Still, they recognize a usefulness in each other against The Three.”
“Those are the dream gods, this season’s big bad, right?” Hunter clarified.
I nodded. “Yes.”
Hunter was particularly enthusiastic about this, following up with several more questions. I offered a few more details about the show, being careful with what I shared before they began diving into my personal life.
“As a Chicago native, you must love being able to film on location.”
“Absolutely. It’s been a real gift being able to film in my hometown. I know everyone complains about the weather, but I actually missed it when I was in LA.”
“Don’t lie to us now,” Hunter said wryly.
“No, it’s true!” I admitted, laughing.
“And I hear congratulations are in order for your sister, who just got married.”
We hadn’t discussed what topics were off-limits, but I was always selective when talking about my family. I put on my polite and professional mask, prepared to redirect the conversation if they tried to get too personal. “Oh, thank you. Yes. It was a great night.”
“Speaking of, I know we don’t normally get into this sort of thing, but you’re here, so we couldn’t help ourselves. Some photos have been floating around recently. It seems you have a new girl on your arm.”
Hunter made a teasing sound. “Yes, I don’t know if you’ve seen the comment sections of your social media lately, but there’s a lot of speculation as to who she is. No one can figure it out. A new co-star, perhaps?”
“Nothing like that, no.” There was a beat of silence where they waited for me to elaborate, but I didn’t.
“Well, I know that there are a lot of heartbroken fans out there, but I for one think you two make a beautiful couple. Is it serious?”
Apprehension rose within me.
I’d been in this situation countless times before. Made a joke, waved it off, moved on. But this wasn’t some one-night stand. This was Audrey. I’d love nothing more than to tell everyone how much she meant to me, but shit, we hadn’t even discussed this yet—telling people. Being in public.
And she’d said before how much she wouldn’t like to be in the spotlight. The last thing I would ever want was for my career to hurt her.
Plus, I knew how much the network liked to play up my bachelor status. They’d forgiven previous rumors about my love life because they got to lean into the rakish playboy aspect of my character. It sold the show. And right now, the whole reason I was even doing this damn interview was to keep selling the show.
So I made a choice.
“Have you ever known me to be in a serious relationship?” I joked.
Hunter laughed. “You’ve got us there.”
“So you don’t have someone special in your life right now?”
And with a practiced smile and a tightening in my throat, I said, “No one.”
30
Audrey
The sun was warm but not overbearing as I made myself comfortable on the park bench, juggling my take-away coffee as I brought up the podcast app on my phone. I was excited to support Jackson both as a recent fan of his show and as his girlfriend.
Technically, I was on my lunch break. I could have stayed in the office, but it was an uncharacteristically beautiful day outside, and it seemed like the perfect mirror for my joyful mood.
It made m
e phenomenally proud that he had come up with a way to negotiate for his contract renewal, especially when he’d said it was something I’d said that had helped him think of it.
He kept finding ways of making me feel capable, bringing light to parts of myself I’d learned to shove in a corner and forget. I could barely believe how lucky I was to have found him. To feel the way I did about him. And while I was still too scared to say it, I could feel that four-letter word pressed against my heart, the truth of it sitting on the tip of my tongue.
I was still floating a little on air. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should probably talk to Jackson about the photos that had been posted of us on social media, but he would have mentioned it if I needed to be worried, so I hadn’t given it much thought yet.
What preoccupied me was wonder at the incredible situation I’d found myself in.
I listened as they started with some fun banter about the show, laughing when they made a dig about Wes, remembering his casual cockiness that second night I saw Jackson at The Basement. I knew Jace was close with the cast, and suddenly, the thought of meeting his friends filled me with excitement. Seeing more of his life, and being a part of it going forward, was something I wanted.
It was obvious the hosts had a great love for the show and the lore, and it was wonderful to hear Jackson indulge in his own enjoyment of it. He’d mentioned to me once that engaging with the show's fans over the little details was one of his favorite things. Most people wrote it off as too low-brow or acted like he should be embarrassed because the target demographic was teenage girls, but he genuinely liked the campiness and said that the cast had a lot of fun playing in the world of the show. I was glad that he had the chance to express that side of himself on the podcast.
When they bought up Sarah’s wedding, I could hear the change in his voice and could practically see the way his jaw must have twitched like it always did when he was holding his emotions back.
My pulse stuttered when they asked about me, and even though it was unlikely, the idea that Jackson might mention me, even if just in a vague way, was exciting. But that excitement curdled when he answered, making it known in two words that there wasn’t anyone special in his life.
Tearing my headphones out of my ears, I robotically took a sip of my coffee, but its bitterness only made me feel worse, so I threw it in a nearby bin. Now that I was on my feet, my restlessness pushed me to walk through the park, unsuccessfully hoping to forget what I’d just heard.
When I remembered that one of the hosts mentioned the fan comments on the photos, I opened Instagram and brought up Jackson’s profile, finding the images in question. There was a war between my fingers and my gut—I knew I was going to regret reading these; no good could come from it. But I had to. Otherwise, I’d always wonder.
I read through the comments section, scrolling through hundreds of them, not being able to stop myself, even as my eyes got cloudy and my throat tightened in sorrow and anger.
* * *
View all 4,149 comments:
I … do not care for her outfit …
That angle is doing her no favors
Dam he looking handsome as always
Beautiful couple
She is so cute
That should be me
Who is this woman with my husband?
I thought he dated models? She looks so plain
its a choice that’s for sure
That dress looks cheap af
Yeah, it’s clear what she’s after. J you can do so much better!
Whoever that girl is is lucky as hell
I hate whoever that is lol
i feel sorry for her she’s just flavor of the month
* * *
Despite the warm day, a chill ran through me, hurt prickling my insides like a lance.
Damn.
Jackson hadn’t been wrong; some people were brutal. And while it certainly hurt to read, I was more put out by Jackson’s answer. He’d been the one to say he wanted us to be something more, inviting me to meet his entire family at Sarah’s wedding. There were photos of us together. So how would he explain pretending I wasn’t someone important in his life?
Returning to work, I found myself typing a message to see if he was free later so we could talk. He responded quickly, saying he’d be home and that he was looking forward to seeing me. When I couldn’t bring myself to say the same, I just sent a thumbs up. It definitely made me feel worse.
I wanted to laugh at how naïve I’d been. I’d thought being in public would be more about being photographed if we went to an event together or having my co-workers knowing about my personal life; I hadn’t ever expected this.
But Jackson had warned me, hadn’t he?
Weeks ago, he’d mentioned that this was what the women he slept with faced.
That’s what he meant when he joked just now about not being known for being in a serious relationship.
Because if he was seen with someone, they were just a fling.
But that wasn’t what he’d called me.
No one, he’d said.
I was disappointed, I realized. I had wanted him to acknowledge what we had.
And yet … the thought of it being official … of what that might mean for my life and my work. Jackson had already proved with one photo that his influence could sell out an event I was hosting, and that was before anyone could connect us.
Once people knew … How would I ever really know what successes were mine alone or if they happened because I was “Jackson Ward’s girlfriend”?
Even if loving him was worth it, was I even ready for that?
The launch was close now, and I had a lot to focus on. It really wasn’t a good time to be doing anything other than working. I had feelings for him; there was no question about that in my mind. But I had been slipping incrementally out of my routine for weeks now, and the guilt I had about choosing him over my other responsibilities was starting to build into something I found difficult to ignore.
Jet entered my office with a tentative knock.
“Yes?” I asked, not looking away from my computer.
“Um, I just wanted to double-check something. Your email said to pay the invoice to Wilsons.”
“Yes.”
“But we already sent that through yesterday.”
“Oh. We did?”
He nodded. “Did you maybe mean the invoice to Wildflower?”
I flushed, my thoughts erratic. Had that been what I’d meant? “Uh, yeah.”
Jet looked visibly relieved. “Great. I’ll go do that now.”
Once he’d left, I dropped my head into my hands. What the hell was going on with me? I needed to get a grip. Jackson and I had already agreed to chat after work, so why couldn’t I concentrate?
I took a couple of deep breaths while I rubbed at my temple, a dull ache blooming behind my right eye. Another knock came, this one more decisive than Jet’s. Opening my eyes, I found David looking concerned. “You ok, kiddo?”
“Of course, why?”
“Well, you don’t look so good. And I’m going to assume that you didn’t mean to email me our inventory list and ask if I’d like to consider expanding on my order this quarter.”
Shit. “Sorry. I’ll fix it.”
“Not what I’m worried about, Audrey.” The intensity of his focus made my head throb. “I think you should go home.”
This cut through my rampant efforts to redirect the email. “What?”
“You don’t need to tell me what’s going on, but I think it’s obvious that whatever it is is a distraction for you right now, and I think it’s a good idea if you go home and deal with it before you do something we can’t fix. You can come back fresh in the morning, and we’ll talk about it then.”
“But David—”
“No, I’m sorry, I’m not going to be able to take no for an answer today.”
After he unceremoniously pushed me out the door, I made my way to Tiff’s apartment, my thoughts a j
umbled mess. I knew I should talk to Jackson, but I was delaying the inevitable.
Thankfully, she was home.
“Fuck, Auds. What happened?” she said as soon as she saw me.
Clearly, I looked as bad as I felt.
“I’m going to assume this has something to do with Jackson?” she added when I still hadn’t said anything.
And if Tiff was using his real name, she knew how serious this was.
I nodded silently, then stumbled my way through all of it: the podcast, Jackson’s dismissal, the fans, David sending me home. By now, she’d corralled me to the couch, listening patiently as I let the words tumble out, pulling me into a tight hug once I’d finished.
“You know me, Tiff. I don’t come in late or skip work or make stupid little mistakes like I did today. Ever since I met Jackson, I’ve been different.” There was so much going on in my mind, like two debate teams speaking over one another. It made it hard to get the right words out. “I mean, he’s amazing, and I really, really care about him,” I do. So much. “But this has all gone so fast, and I feel like it’s taking over everything.”
“You’re just feeling overwhelmed right now. It’ll be fine. Once the launch is over, and you can breathe a little, it won’t look so bad.”
“I think I need to break up with him.”
Tiff was incredulous. “You’re serious.”
I groaned, a bubble of condensed frustration making its way to the surface. “I can’t see how we make this work right now, and I’m not going to give up everything I’ve worked for.”
Tiff answered, slow and calm, “Audrey, that’s the stress talking. You need to talk to Jackson about this, tell him how you’re feeling. Work through it. Isn’t that what relationships are all about?”
And she was right. I knew she was right. But it hardly helped. The crux of the damn thing was that I loved Jackson, but I missed what my life was like before I met him. Ok, not all of it, obviously, but the sense of self I’d found. To be my own person, on my own terms.
But when I thought about not having him in my life; his humor, his sweetness, his steady reassurance, and support … It felt like cutting out my own heart.