Celestine

twenty three // célestine

A month later, June

We're in the backseat of a black Audi Q5. Alvin's reading through some documents. I scroll through my pictures. The ones that calm me down during a car ride. The ones with Jungkook. My mind full of Jungkook. The goddamn kiss. Fucking everything that happened between us. I haven't thought much about anything else in the past month. Which I should not be doing.

I don't want to be doing that. His face is the last thing I kind of need right now. The kiss was so hopeful, and then everything crashed and left me discouraged to do anything.

But I need to look at the pictures if I want to have a fairly peaceful car ride. Ten more minutes, the driver's GPS says.

"So," Alvin says. Reluctant, I lock my phone, grip it tightly and pay attention to him. "You don't have any schedules for the next month. I have a list of things you could appear in. And also I wanted to talk to you about extending our contract."

This conversation would make me feel terrible and anxious a week ago. Now I don't really care. I don't care what Alvin will say, think or do. I don't care what anyone will say, think or do. This is the only thing I seem to have control over, and I refuse to lose it all.

"I know I don't have schedules. And you can tell them all I'm not interested," I say. "And we won't be extending the contract."

My stomach still squeezes. I've practiced that talk, but actually telling him the truth is more nerve-wrecking than the trials I had in front of the mirror.

"What? Why not?"

"Because I don't need an agent or a manager anymore," I say. "I'm quitting."

No matter what happened between me and Jungkook, I won't let it affect my career choices. No matter what happened between us, Hollywood has been a cage for me for far too long. It's a long overdue break-up that I can't keep on running away from. People will shit on me for it, and this won't stop me, either. I'd rather have them talk about me quitting than about my new movie that would suck a life out of me.

The driver, who's going to have a gossip material in a moment, senses the serious conversation and turns off the music.

Alvin stares at me like he doesn't speak English. "What are you talking about?"

"I've finished all of the projects I signed contracts for," I say. "That's it. I'm done. I'm quitting."

"You can't just quit," he says.

"That's what I'm doing. And I don't see why you'd have a say in it. I'm ending my career, not yours. You can go ahead and be someone else's manager or agent."

"But Tina-"

"There is no Tina," I say. It feels empowering to reclaim myself. Because that's what I'm doing. By not extending a simple contract, I'm making myself fully mine. He can't dip a finger in my life anymore. He can't make me a Tina. That's what this is all about. About choosing myself and doing what will make my heart happy again. "I'm Célestine, if you forgot about it. You can keep Tina, I'm done with her."

"Are you... are you being serious right now?"

"Yes."

"Why?" he asks. Knowing Alvin, he's about to try and stop me, somehow finding a benefit for himself in it.

"I don't have to discuss it with you. We're just simply not extending the contract," I say. But because I know he will keep pestering me about it, I add, "That's what I want. I've decided a long time ago."