Welcome to 1926. The beginning of Hollywood.
But for actress and petulant diva Victoria Singh--a woman who's gone from rags to riches, it's all but a dream. With movie sets, interviews, parties, and events, she has her hands tied while still dealing...
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I had never felt so powerless in my life than that night, and refused to become that way again.
What I thought I could handle, turned out to be the worst I'd ever experienced. But on the plus side, I had got the role a few hours later and when I realized I had done something so cruel to my poor Danny. That's when he threw a fantastic dinner for us.
A dinner I wished would've surely ended differently.
I loved him. Emphasis on love. We would've been happier than ever.
To even let a man take over my facilities or lay a single lip on mine without more of a battle that I should've been able to control, I was ashamed of the decision I even made by going to that stupid bash at all. To dangle the bait some cool cats might even say these days—knowing sorta what he wanted, but not doing anything to stop him.
But now as I stared out into the late night skyline of Los Angeles, finished with my mini meltdown with a cup of tea in my hand that Danny had made for me to ease my stomach and nerves...I knew what I had to do.
Danny had to know the truth and I was finally ready to tell him.
"How are you feeling now?" I suddenly heard his hypnotic voice.
Slowly facing half of me toward him, I shyly shrugged and sighed. "Like the biggest Dumb Dora on earth, having you see me so low in my life. Thanks for asking."
He smirked and nodded slightly. "I didn't ask that." He walked up right next to me, leaning against the ledge. "I meant, how are you feeling regarding the whole sick thing? I heard you in the bathroom, Victoria. Aside from your several drinks coming back up...it sounded like you were hyperventilating too. Like...you couldn't breathe." He rallied out with his voice now appearing shakily.
I sensed the level of concern and care he was displaying, becoming panicked and a mess with me as well. It was really sweet of him. But this was my own struggle. My own truth.
"Danny, remember that night you broke up with me?" I simply asked.
"Please, you don't have to talk about things like that now if you don't want to. I understand-" He started to shrug off.
But he didn't understand. This had to get out now.
"But I need to." I informed him. He just nodded, letting me continue on. "There were some things about that night that I never shared with you...or with anyone for that matter. I was ashamed I had let it get so far and bad. But you out of all people should know what truly happened that night we broke up." I stared to him once more, pressing further. He listened attentively. "Truth is...something more treacherous went down. When I went to that party, I helped a young little skirt with her boyfriend at the bar. That's when I saw Jack shortly after. He greeted me with a glass of Champagne. Granted, this glass was more colorized than any other wine I knew—that should've tipped me off...but it didn't. I took it and finished because I didn't want him to think I was being rude."
