Her Perfect Gift

“Are you okay?” I ask cautiously instead. “Has… erm, has something happened?”

“Oh no.” She slams her laptop shut quickly as if she doesn’t want me to see. It doesn’t matter, I can imagine, I have had everything said to me as well. Not that it makes it any easier. It feels personal when it’s directed just at you, even if it is just to get some kind of response. “I’m okay. How did today go?”

“Erm… okay, for the most part. Me and Winter struggled a bit but…” Her eyes are glazing over. I don’t know if she wants to listen to me moaning on which is probably for the best because I don’t want to hear it either. I just want to forget about it all and push it to the back of my mind so that tomorrow can be a fresh new day. “Anyway, how did your beauty event go? Did you make lots of connection

s and sell all sorts?”

“Sure.” Her word is bright, and her face tries to tell the same story, but I can sense a fakeness to her smile, a deadness behind her eyes. Just like me, she hasn’t had the best day and she also doesn’t want to talk about it. “It was good. I have already signed up to do some more, so… yep, I have a lot of good things happening.”

I don’t know if it’s the filming that has my mood all on edge or Darcy, but something doesn’t quite feel right. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s the dream… the fantasy life where I have the girl and the career that I want, but it still isn’t quite right. There is something missing in the picture which leaves a hole in my chest. If I could work out what I need to do then I could make it right, but I don’t know anything and that puts me on edge.

Communicate, I remind myself. You swore that you would always talk things through.

If I want this to be a proper adult relationship, unlike the errors that we made six years ago, then I need to talk even when it feels difficult. I need to work out a way to get those challenging words out there.

“Darcy, are you…” Oh my God, this is so much harder than I thought it was going to be. “Are you happy?”

“With you? Sure.” There it is, that smile again. The one which doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “I’m so happy that I came here with you because I love you, Seth. This is everything that I have ever wanted. Now, come on. Let’s go to bed before you fall asleep where you are standing. You are exhausted, aren’t you?”

I go with her, even if she hasn’t exactly given me what I need, and I fall in to bed beside her, but despite the warmth emanating from her, I feel a coldness. I’m not doing my job right now, am I? I am supposed to be giving her the dream come true life, not one that makes her dissatisfied. Somehow, in between filming, I’m going to have to find a way to make things better for her. I don’t know what I can do if she doesn’t tell me, but I have some instincts in there somewhere that I can go with. I know Darcy, don’t I? That’s supposed to be the benefit of being in love with my best friend, that I understand her inside and out. So, why am I failing so badly?

I glance to the side and see her sleeping, but even when she is closed off from the world, the unhappiness remains on her expression. The thought that I have everything but I’m fucking it all up kills me. I can’t hack it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Darcy

January 9th

‘She is so fat. So ugly. She looks like a troll. Why the hell would Seth go anywhere near her?’

My heart sinks as this comment darts through me. The worst part is this comment is written under a picture that I don’t think bad of me. If it was one of those badly angled ones that the press seems to take great delight out of publishing, leaving me with absolutely no control over my public image, then I would understand, but this one is not too bad. I look like me, which makes it even harder to digest. I don’t know what I have done so wrong to deserve this. I mean, I know that I’m not a model or good enough for Seth…

According to his fans, I don’t think that I will ever be enough for him. I get that they love him and that he is the one in the public eye, but surely, they understand that I am a real person as well. With feelings.

‘I don’t think that she is even real,’ someone else replies. ‘I reckon that Seth’s management hired her to be a ‘normal’ girlfriend. Celebrities do this all the time when they want to calm down a reputation. Being seen with a normal, boring, small town looking girl will make him seem much nicer. Less of a player.’

Wow, this seems like a conspiracy theory to me. I can’t imagine anyone doing anything like this, even in a place where reputation is everything, but that could just be me being naïve. I’m sure that Seth isn’t doing that anyway. If I can be confident of anything it’s his love for me. He tells me enough times. If only him telling me how he feels about me was enough to push these negative remarks out of my head.

I don’t know if I was ready for LA when I came. I don’t know if I could ever be ready for this. I should be using this opportunity for my company but instead, I just feel more insecure than ever before. Even at the makeup event, no one was interested in me, only Seth. I don’t want to tell him how much of a failure I am because it’s embarrassing. Plus, I keep trying to convince myself that it will turn around sometime soon. That my big break s coming, along with true happiness at last, and all I have to do is be patient. If only I could work on my website and my social media presence instead of reading these comments.

‘Such a down grade. What is Seth thinking? Look at that piggy nose!’

I don’t know what gets to me in the end. I think it might be the fact that none of these comments are nice, they are all too unbearable for words. Not one person has a kind thing to say and that’s what sends me in to sobs. Weak, pathetic weeping that rocks through my whole body and makes my ribs hurt. I close my laptop down, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late, the damage is done. Those words, along with everything else that strangers have written about me, are burned into my brain and won’t be going anywhere.

Ring, ring… oh God, why now? Why does Seth have to call me right now? Ring, ring… He already suspects that I’m not happy, he keeps telling me not to read the comments, me crying over them isn’t going to help. Ring, ring… But if I don’t pick up, it will only worry him more, so I need to straighten myself out.

“He… hello?” God, did I stammer then? I really need to get it together. “Hello?”

“Darcy, is that you?” Oh no, this is worse than Seth. This is my father. I have spoken to him a couple of times since being in LA because he has seemingly become the attempted peacekeeper between me and my mother, not that it’s working because I haven’t heard from her at all. Not that I want to. “Are you crying?”

“I’m just…” I sniff loudly and try to wipe away the tears. “No, I’m not crying, I’m just…”

“You know, I can tell that you aren’t happy there, Darcy,” Dad tells me firmly. “It’s obvious. I keep trying not to say anything because I don’t want to push you away further, but it isn’t working out for you. You haven’t ever been miserable like this before. Is it Seth? Is he treating you badly? Because if he is…”

“No, no,” I jump in right away. I need to give credit where it’s due. “Seth is being amazing, it’s everything else. It’s hard here, Dad. Nothing like I expected, and I don’t know if it’s right for me.”

“Then come home,” he pleads. “You always have a place here. You know that.”