Hollywood's Princess [PUBLISHED]

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Never Been Easy

Standing in front of my mother’s house at ten in the evening is not how I pictured this day will go. When we got out late because of filming, I became a coward and instead of going straight home to face Adam, I made a turn and went here.

Ringing her doorbell, I couldn’t stand still as I waited for her to open the door. Right now, all I needed was a comfort from my mother, she always know what to do, from when I lose something to when I face Hollywood drama, I always come to her.

When she appeared before me, it took one look at my face for her to figure out there was something wrong. Cocking her head to the side in both question and concern, she asked, “Which one?”

She was referring which of the follow situations is the reason why I came her. Was it because of Axel, or is it because of Adam, or maybe because it was my dad.

Cross out the last one, because just a few tweaks, that’s no longer going to be my problem.

About the first two, I don’t even know anymore. It’s time to give up Adam, but how? It’s not going to be simple and because of my stupid confession, I predict that everything’s going to be awkward between us. If you value a friendship like I have with him, you would know that it’s the last thing that you want to happen.

And Axel, he just plainly doesn’t want to talk to me. I mean, we acted like we love each other in front of the camera, but as soon as the director yells, “Cut,” there’s like a switch that somebody would just flick so that our personalities would change in an instant.

He wasn’t insulting me like what he used to, he barely acknowledges that I’m there.

Instead of spilling everything to her, I gripped my purse tighter, and took a deep breath, “Can I stay over?”

Without a moment of hesitation, she nodded, pulling me inside the house that I gave to her as a gift. Before anything else, I shot Adam a text to let him know of my whereabouts and that I wouldn’t be coming home.

I’m just postponing the inevitable.

“You must be tired,” she soothed, guiding me upstairs, “Did you just get out of set?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled as I toyed with the hem of my blouse.

She clicked her tongue, before she led me to the kitchen, “You must be hungry.”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I sat down on the kitchen island as she heated up some leftover she took out from the fridge. A thing I like about my mother, she won’t pressure you about anything, and she’ll let you open up if you want to.

When she set down the plate in front of me, I knew I couldn’t hold it in any longer, “I need to tell you something.”

Well, it’s more like I’m asking her for permission.

She paused from putting away the bowls from the dishwasher and turned to me, gesturing for me to continue.

So I did, my face not even faltering as I told her what I planned to do. From the concert to what happens after, she listened intently to every single word that came out of my mouth.

“That sound like something,” she commented, going back to her chore, “But I think it’s going to be good for you.”

“Mom…” I trailed off, gripping my fork tighter, “I don’t even know anymore.”

With her gaze softening, she swept away my bangs and pressed a comforting kiss on my forehead, “Just do what you think is best.”

“That’s the problem mom,” I grumbled, taking a harsh bite from my meal, “I don’t know what’s best.”