Better Than Me

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I took a vow of silence against Sophia after our fight. I thought "vow of silence" sounded less immature than the truth, which was that I was giving her the silent treatment like a high school girl.

In my defense, I'd never been spoken to like that before. Ever. Not even before I came famous. I'd always been popular, I'd always been good looking, and people just didn't say those things to me. I didn't know how to handle it – so I didn't. I ignored her instead.

As it turns out, ignoring your costar isn't the easiest thing in the world, but I managed to ignore her whenever it wasn't professionally necessary for us to speak or text.

I did have to break my silence to text her once. She had an interview on the Mark Stavros Show which clearly spelled trouble for me, especially after what had happened the other night. She was surprisingly allowed to be on the show alone. Frank told me they asked for me, as well, but I already had a photoshoot at that time. Some men's magazine wanted me to be on their cover.

Sophia didn't provide the same entertainment value without me to hurl insults at, but I guess it was the best Mark could do. Although I guess my lack of an appearance wouldn't stop her from trash-talking me if she wanted to.

Worst of all, there was no pre-interview so whatever came out of her mouth would be shown live. Mark Stavros didn't believe in rehearsals or editing. He liked catching people off guard. I wasn't sure if Sophia knew that or if she was going into the den of the lion without even realizing it, but I wasn't going to be the one to tell her. What did I care if she made a fool of herself on national television?

Anyway, Frank told me to text her before she went on the show to try to soften her up. I didn't think it would help, but it was all we could do to try to control what came out of her mouth. Although she'd made it abundantly clear she didn't want to be controlled Sunday night.

I know you're going on Mark's show tonight. Watch your mouth – for both of our sakes. Don't forget that if I go down, you go down with me. We're a package until this movie is done with, I texted her.

I almost didn't send it but impulsively hit send before I could talk myself out of it. I twiddled with my thumbs waiting for a response, but it never came. What a shocker, I know.

"Yeah, there's no way she's going to keep up with this lie," I muttered to Frank. We were standing off to the side away from everyone else so we could discuss the situation semi-privately. "It's a miracle she waited three days to talk."

"She only waited three days to talk so she could do it as publicly as it gets," Frank said. He was perpetually annoyed, but he looked especially pissed off at that moment. "All we can do now is hope she comes to her senses."

I almost repeated that that wasn't going to happen, but figured there was no need to keep rubbing salt in the wound. No matter which way we spun it, we were both screwed. He was screwed for lying, and I was screwed for not contradicting him when I had the chance.

I didn't get to watch the show until I got home. I snuck out the back of the studio once the photoshoot was over with to avoid any possible paparazzi. Now wasn't the time for a media photo op.

When I got home, I put off watching the show for as long as possible. I fed Bubba, I showered, I ate, I gave Bubba a bath – sorry, Bubba – and hell, I would've even done my taxes if it were tax season. Eventually, I ran out of excuses and sat on the couch to watch it.

Bubba jumped onto the couch with me, completely unaware of the fact that I was probably about to watch myself get roasted on national television – again.