The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

63

I THINK BRIDGET WAS AVOIDING me after our conversation, or whatever it was we had. But I didn't see her again during filming for Stella Bella.

No matter the dread of doing more than the amount of needed takes because of Josie, I did somewhat start to like her. And Mary. And everyone else on set. I think that's the thing with good members, or just the film in general, you start to take a liking to them and everything.

Mary hosted a party when our last film was finished, nowhere special or nice, just on the sets we've been filming at. But it felt special.

"Here," Mary sat down next to me on a folded chair, handing me a bottle of beer. I didn't drink beer, but took it anyways, popping the cap off. We sat there, in front of us with the cameras and equipment moved away, leaving an open space for people to slow dance, or just those who stood by with a drink, talking. I feel Mary tilt her head at me. "Mason and Cameron both couldn't make it?"

Apparently that day happened to be Mason and Cameron's...how many years? Probably ten I think then. Their ten year anniversary since they were together. "No, Mason has some work to get to. Cameron, you know, just fooling around I guess. He used to be more serious."

Mary smiled, taking a giant gulp of her beer and exhaling an exaggerated sound after. She turns her head to look at me, a bead of sweat runs down my temple. "You don't have to lie for them. I know."

I huffed, but it came out unnaturally. "Know what?"

She was small and petite, the chair seeming to swallow her as she leaned back, careless eyes. Or maybe drunken eyes. She had quite a few bottles already. "Them. I know they're together, and my son's gay. And that you and Cameron?" She grinned, and I felt myself shrinking, scared. "A façade."

We didn't talk for a long time, just watching dancers twirling around. I didn't know what to say. Until, I swallowed, and managed to look at her again. "And you're okay with that? With Mason and Cameron?" I wondered if Mason also told her about me.

Her eyes looked tiny and sleepy at first, but then they widened, curling into that classic Wen-Qiu family smile. "Why the hell wouldn't I be? He's my son, no matter what, and I love him very much." She reached her hand for mine, and I let her. She pats it gently, stroke of a mother and friend. "You know, it's not wrong. It's not wrong or anything. I don't understand why people still think it is. Actually, I don't think it should even matter. Love is love, and such a good thing should never be wrong."

My eyes stay on her hand and mine. "Of course it isn't wrong. I never meant to put it that way."

"I know you didn't. But internalized homophobia is a thing." I didn't know what she meant, but before I could say anything in response, swayingly and dreamingly, she slowly picked herself up by the legs and did a small spin, beer in one hand. "Are you ever free? You seem very stricken on set all the time, expression always fussed. Mason says you're rather a carefree person. But you seem very serious whenever you're," she took a giant gulp of beer down the throat. "Acting."

"I'm not always serious." She should've seen the amount of times I puked in the toilet because of drinking too much, Mason always helping me with it.

She laughed, but then when her eyes settled on me again, the lines of smile warmed up my chest. It felt so friendly, and familiar. "You really do remind me of Stella." She shook her head, and more of her maturity came back from that. "Well, because of that, you two would not get along. Definitely wouldn't." A huge burp interrupted her, and instead of being embarrassed, she laughed her head off. People glanced at our direction, at Mary, and as Mary Qiu always did, it brought a smile upon their faces.