Kicking Reality

Tayla’s room is very bright. Decorated with purple wallpaper and black and white photos scattered all over. She really enjoyed photography, one of her passions next to texting.

“Can I borrow your phone?” I ask, hopping back up into a sitting position.

“Yeah.” She quickly scrolls on the phone then hands it to me. “Where’s yours?”

“Long story.”

I send a text to Nina, telling her I’m coming back home tonight. She replied instantly and told me to sit tight while she organized flights and bodyguards to escort me at LAX—an extra precaution given that I was alone. I didn’t see the big deal, and waited for fifteen minutes when the flight details arrived back.

“I have to go back home,” I tell Tay

la without mentioning anymore about Logan.

“Mom will be sad.”

“I know, but I have to take care of something.”

“Okay.” She shrugs, losing interest.

“Tayla.” I hesitate, sitting on the edge of the sofa with my feet firmly flat on the ground. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been around much.”

Swiveling to face me, she crosses her legs. “You’re busy. I’m busy. Ash’s busy. It’s cool.”

“It’s not cool. I should be there for you. As a big sister.”

Looking around her room, I realized that I had no idea who she was anymore. Almost like she changed overnight. Tayla’s entrance to our family came with mixed emotions. It had been me and Ash for so long then all of a sudden, a baby is thrown into our lives. By the time she began to walk and talk, we were hitting puberty and busying ourselves with all the cool things teenagers did.

Since I began the show, my life changed forever. Back-to-back filming the show plus commercials, photoshoots, interviews, and then I ventured into my own business which Wes joined me soon after. The fitness line was something I felt passionate about at the time; comfortable and affordable for the everyday consumer. I added my sparkle by throwing colors and patterns instead of your boring black workout pants. Given my popularity on the show, the demands for the clothing exceeded our expectations and made us a fortune.

From there, we branched out further. Purchasing our apartment then a small cottage in the hills which we rented out. Wes did a ton of endorsements and I was offered many which I declined at the time due to my hectic lifestyle. Add in there the social events including red carpets, award shows, and premieres—we had little time for anything else. Wes didn’t like me coming back home without him and he only visited once in three years. That would change.

It was all about to change.

I just needed to get on a plane and find a way to end the show.

And breaking up with Wes would do just that.

“The key to moving on is denial.

That, and eating cake.”

~ Emerson Chase

I fell asleep on Tayla’s couch, only to wake up soon after to the sound of a horn honking out the front of the house. My vision is blurred and worsens as I rub my eyes, exhausted and drained from all the worry and stress.

Hiding out in her room seemed logical, but with my stomach growling and my mouth parched, I knew I would have to make my way to the kitchen eventually. And most importantly—I had to tell Mom I was heading back home early. I needed a distraction. Something to occupy my mind and push away the pain even if only for a few moments.

“Can I borrow your computer?” I ask, mindful that she had property of Tayla Chase stickered all over her electronics.

“Sure,” she replies, moving off the bed and towards me. She leans over and types in the password, quickly, like I was spying.

I thank her kindly with a trace of sarcasm, then proceed to log into my account and check my unread emails. Nina sent another long email. Apparently, she was in full damage-control mode and the network execs were beyond pissed. Wesley was being flown back to the States for an emergency meeting. They requested that I be there to discuss the future of the show. It seemed unnatural to sit in a boardroom and discuss how to fix our relationship. The thought of being in the same room with him made my skin crawl. To think he could do that and expect me to carry on like nothing happened.

Yet once again, without any warning, my heart sank as the love I felt for this man could not easily dissolve. With a quiet sniff, I hold back the tears, tired of crying over something I had no control over.

The damage was done—he broke us.

Exiting out of that email, I run the mouse along the other highlighted items. I went by an alias name on my email: Jane Smith. The plainest name that one could think of. Using my real name was not an option with all the hackers that stalked the Internet.