The Mixtape

“What are you talking about, Oliver? We’re building an empire together. We are the next Beyoncé and Jay-Z. If you would just—”

“I don’t want that.”

“Yes, I know, but I do. So, we are going to make it happen because I know how it can help us both. My career”—she paused, evidently noting her words—“our careers will take off after this, due to this relationship.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“This. You, me. I can’t continue in this relationship anymore, Cam. We’re not happy. We’re not in love.”

Her eyes flashed with emotions, and for a split second I saw her. I saw the girl I once knew living behind those sad eyes. Yet before I could grasp hold of that girl, rage flashed before her.

The new Cam was back in full force. “You are really going to break up with me? Because we aren’t in love?”

Uh . . . yes?

“I think that’s a good enough reason to, yes,” I agreed.

“What’s love got to do with it?” she hammered. “I mean, honestly, Oliver. This is Hollywood! No one’s in love!”

I felt sorry for her. I’d seen it happen to so many celebrities in the industry. Fame overtook them and swallowed their souls whole. I never thought it would happen to Cam, though. Years back, she used to have stars in her eyes. She used to daydream about performing for a crowd of one hundred people. She used to care about the music, about the art. Now, all she cared for was money and fame.

“I’m sorry, Cam. I truly hope you find what you’re looking for, but it can’t be with me.”

She parted her lips in shock and then shook her head. Once the surprise had faded from her stare, a hardness found her as she released a weighted sigh. “You’ll pay for it, Oliver. Just watch. You’ll regret this decision. Mark my words.”

She turned and walked out of the room, and with her went the deadweight that I hadn’t known our relationship had been pressing against my shoulders.

15

EMERY

Cam hadn’t been back since she stormed out on Monday. I figured she was keeping her space until I left after my shifts. Oliver hadn’t brought her up, but that wasn’t shocking. Oliver didn’t bring anything up to me. He simply thanked me for my meals, then put his headphones back on and went back to his work. Sometimes I’d ask if he was okay, and he’d reply no. Other times, I’d follow up and ask if there was anything I could do to make him better, and he’d say no again. That was the depth of our conversations.

I found myself thinking about him more often than not. When I closed my eyes, I’d see his sad stare. When I opened my eyes, I’d see his cracked frowns.

“Knock, knock,” I said as I headed into Oliver’s studio.

He looked up from the notebook in his hands. “Done for the day?”

“Yes. Dinner is in the fridge. You just have to toss it into the oven for forty-five minutes at four hundred twenty-five degrees.”

“Thank you, Emery. I do have a request. The Fourth of July is coming up. My parents are coming into town. Kelly will be around, and Tyler will be, too, with his wife and two kids. Perhaps we could have a celebration, if you’re free to cook for it. Of course, you could take part in the festivities, and Reese is more than welcome. She can use the pool, and I’ll make sure to have some kind of entertainment for her and Tyler’s two kids, who are around her age.” His nervous fidgeting returned as he looked away from me. “Of course, if you already have plans—”

“I don’t. And that sounds so fun. I’ve never done a Fourth of July party. I’m excited to get creative!” I exclaimed, maybe too excitedly. I was going to be on Pinterest looking up different ideas the moment I got home. Plus, I was certain that Reese was going to love the idea of having a party—even with people she didn’t really know, as long as a pool was involved. “Oh my gosh, I can make minidesserts and all kinds of appetizers.” I beamed with excitement.

I swore for a split second that Oliver smiled too.

“I’m glad. Thank you, Emery.”

“Thank you. This is going to be so much fun.” I bit my bottom lip. “Will Cam be in attendance, too? Maybe with her family? Just so I have a headcount.”

He looked down to his notebook and then back toward me. “I don’t think Cam is going to be around much anymore.”

“Oh? Did you two . . . did you break up?”

“Yes, we are no longer seeing one another.”

“Oh my gosh, Oliver. I’m so sorry. I hope it had nothing to do with me . . .”

“It had everything to do with you.”

Guilt hit me at full speed. “I’m so sorry, Oliver. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble for you, and—”