The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

57

MONTHS LATER SINCE I WAS last bawling my eyes out in Cameron's home, I was then at a photoshoot, posing for my upcoming movie that will soon turn into posters. Completely different sceneries and all. But to be honest? My mood was much or less the same inside.

Cameron, even with all the kicks and punches I threw at him, got me to finally stand up and go out and actually live life in this world step by step. I knew Mason would have helped me do that too, but Cameron, his way was much faster and effective. And rougher, to add to that.

The moment I reached out to life again, I started to bury myself in work, expanding my social circles more than ever. It wasn't exactly the advice Cameron gave me, but let's just say it was my own way of healing. No, not entirely healing. It was moving on. But moving on doesn't totally consist of getting over something fully, at least in my opinion. Because the higher I went, the more attention I got from people—I enjoyed it, I won't lie about that—everyday whenever I was empty of work, my thoughts would always unwillingly wander to her.

So to not think about her, it was work and parties, parties and work. And to say this, I'm pretty sure—only at the time—she had her own fair amount of flings. So whenever I did get with someone, I told myself that it is no shame. No shame at all, since she was probably doing exactly the same thing, marriage or not. None of the girls I got with were really famous, some trying to be, some models, but the good thing about them—which they all had in common—was that they weren't the type to talk all that much. It was get it done, a few calls, and we never talked again. They didn't threaten my career that was. But whenever I touched them, I always wondered and imagined, closing my eyes, that they're Klarise under my fingers. But when I open them, they're never her, no matter how glamorous they all looked. A pretty flower, but never exactly the flower I adored and loved.

I think Cameron knew of my flings, and he didn't seem to really care. If he ever talked or mentioned it, I can imagine him saying: Well, it is a poor way for a distraction. But I wouldn't talk. Because not that I wouldn't do the same if I were in your position.

On the other hand though, Mason definitely did not like it all that much. But he doesn't mention it one bit over our phone calls. He had been really busy lately, and as he traveled longer days, further away places, it almost seemed to me that might be the way things were and stayed. Me and Cameron drinking away a few glasses at night whenever we managed to bump into each other, or me finding myself awake in bed with some girl I could barely remember the name of, or just a pathetic stay overnight on set. Things weren't bad, but also, I missed him.

"Okay, perfect. Perfect position." The photographer says to us, me and the guy I'm shooting a film with. "But Maeve, just wrap your arms around Jack a little tighter..." I do as he says, feeling emotionless when my skin touches his and I could feel the fast thumping of his heart. Just to say, I think this was the only film that he ever shot. Despite the incredibly good looks, I guess being an actor just doesn't work out for everyone. "Yes! Okay, great, just like that!" I really do wonder where they all end up though.

We were taking five and I walked back to my little tent thing that every model/actor seemed to have even though it was indoor, and one of the assistants quickly comes over to me, pulling a white robe over my shoulders since the clothes we wore for that shot was basically bikini shit—I did not enjoy it but work isn't always about enjoying—and I'm about to take a sip of water from the bottle she hands me when some back crew member approaches me with cautious steps. As if I might hurt him or something if he didn't watch out. I guess I was like that on set for people who've only heard about me from others—intimidating.

"Ms. Lively, there's someone outside waiting for you. Says you know him." He dashes a glance at the assistant, somehow still standing by and probably about to make small-talk with me, which I'd gladly not do.