The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

54

KLARISE DOESN'T ANSWER MY CALLS or texts for two weeks. And maybe because of that, I also don't bother answering any of Mason's or Cameron's texts. I stayed huddled in my hotel room, curtains drawn closed so it was almost always dark and I couldn't tell apart daylight from night. I rocked back and forth on the bed with blankets pulled all over me, somehow it felt really cold all the time ever since my encounter at Klarise's parents' mansion even if it's spring. I had gotten a bunch of "I love LA" shirts and pants or something along those in the hotel's souvenir shop and all the undergarments there since I left my suitcase and all my belongings—not that they were important anyways. And I didn't bother to go out to eat or anything, so I survived on room service. But most of all, my head felt like it might truly explode sometimes.

I can't believe I gave birth to such a disappointment. Such a disappointment.

"Stop it."

No, I won't stop. Because it's the truth. You are a disgrace and I should've aborted you. Too bad I didn't have enough money. You wasted so much of my money, so so much. I can't even count how much, because there are just so many! And then you left me, just like that, without paying me back.

I had the pillow over my ears but her voice wasn't going away. "I'll pay you back! I'll pay all of it back, just leave me alone for once!"

The voice finally stopped, and then I waited for it to come back as it sometimes did but it didn't.

I started washing my face in the sink, and even though I didn't want to, I got a good look at myself in the mirror. My parted bangs from All Eyes On Us still stayed, but now it's twirled into a bunch of mess and I'm starting to notice the split ends that's forming on my long hair that's all the way to my hips by now. So long. I don't think I've necessarily cut it since filming that movie other than trim it. I suddenly have the urge to cut it.

Because as I stared at my dark brown strands of long hair in my fingers and in the mirror, the person staring back at me looked unlike me and more like Chen Xing Xing. I hated her. And I hated my hair all of a sudden. Or more like, it just hurted to see all that hair.

I hurled everywhere in my hotel room, throwing over pillows and pulling open drawers, looking for a pair of scissors. I needed it. I wanted my hair out.

It was the amount of time since me and Klarise had been back together, those hair. And that was only two years. Or maybe even less, considering the one year long distance take we did. We called each other everyday though. But now, I don't even have the privilege to do that.

Suddenly coming to that realization, I collapsed to the carpet embedded floor, probably full of germs, and started to bawl my eyes out. It hurted. So much. I wanted to take back every mean thing I've said to her that has led to the results of this.

I wanted her back.

In the afternoon, or was it the middle of the night? I had a call from the lobby, or just some hotel service. And I was about to brush it away when I somehow got that phone next to my ear and I heard who it was. I never knew I needed her voice to survive until then.

I was too shocked to say much, but then all I received from her voice was this: "Stay in your hotel room, I'm heading over."

"Wait, how did you——"

She ended the call before I could finish.

So I listened to her instructions. Stayed in my hotel room. It's not like I've left it all that much.

There was some sound of shuffling at the door, then following with a knock. I opened it and I almost don't recognize her right away.

Her small curls she really liked which I knew she spent money and time on making it that way is straighter than, if it's possible, a stick. And it isn't brown mixed with highlights anymore, but dyed plain black. And when I say plain, I mean really plain and bland. It isn't the jet black she had when I first met her. Unnatural.