Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

Val nodded solemnly. “You know me.”

There were probably things I needed to say to Tiffany, but I didn’t even know where to start. And anyway, it wasn’t the time. For tonight, maybe it was best we let the alcohol do the talking.

Five minutes before the show, we were all at least a glass-of-something deep. I was too nervous to do anything other than sit on the edge of the couch and sip wine. The first time I appeared on screen after the opening credits, it became immediately clear to me I didn’t want to see any more. A pit formed in my stomach as I watched Bree and myself at our kitchen table drinking coffee and browsing the classifieds. A title popped up with my name and “aspiring actress” underneath. How many people in America were tuning in at that moment? Learning that I took my coffee with sugar and cream? It was completely innocuous, boring, and, as Tiffany had eloquently put it—utterly mortifying.

My movements on screen were stiff while the rest of the cast looked at ease. They’d taken to having cameras in their face much better than I had. Two had scored forgettable on-screen roles before this, and the others were natural extroverts. Everyone in the living room had their eyes glued to the screen, but I had to look away.

What would Manning think? I hated that he came to mind first, but that’d always been my habit—what was Manning doing, how was he, and did he still think of me? Having Tiffany in the room didn’t change that. If anything, his absence was stronger.

The longer the show went on, the worse it got. Corbin had already made an appearance. Across the living room, he and I kept exchanging uncomfortable looks.

During the last commercial break, Val jumped on the couch. “A toast,” she said, “to sexy Bree, and to Lake, America’s next sweetheart.”

I flinched. I didn’t want to be called that. Not only was it untrue, but was that what America wanted? I hadn’t done anything but sit there. “Please,” I said, “it’s not a big deal.”

Val groaned. “Stop saying that.”

“It’s a huge deal,” Tiffany said. I glanced at her, but she was looking at the bottom of her empty champagne glass. As Val bent over to refill it, my new BlackBerry rang. Only a few people had the number, so I wasn’t surprised to see the name June McPherson lit up on the screen.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt the toast,” I said, “but I have to take this. It’s my agent.”

“Everyone shut up,” Val called. “Answer it, Lake.”

While my friends watched, I picked up. “Listen,” June said straight off. She’d been my agent for over a year now and never seemed to run out of energy. “Are you listening?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Where are you?”

“With Bree and some friends at a viewing party.”

“Put me on speakerphone.”

It took me a moment to figure out how, but once I did, I held up the cell for everyone. “Do you guys fucking love the show or what?” June asked.

They cheered. Corbin winked at me, even as I rolled my eyes.

“So do we,” she said. “I’m almost positive we have a smash hit on our hands.”

Val jumped up and down on the couch as everyone else hooted and hollered.

I took June off speaker, and she laughed. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” she yelled over the noise. “Have fun tonight.”

Everyone clinked glasses as I hung up, while Tiffany downed her champagne in one go. She raised her glass to no one in particular, got up, and left the room. I was sixteen again, watching Tiffany’s light go out while mine shone on. My face was front and center of a hit TV show while my outgoing, full-of-life older sister spent her life—where? I didn’t even know if she had a desk, a cubicle, or an office, just that she’d recently accepted an associate buyer position at PacSun.

She’d married young and to the wrong man, and had since lost a baby and gotten divorced. I’d betrayed her in the worst kind of way—just by existing. By being the one our dad had pinned his hopes on. By rising to stardom when she’d never secured a second modeling job. By being her husband’s true love. And yet she had to sit there and toast me. I had the urge to tell her the truth—I wasn’t all that great of an actress, I was definitely a bad sister, and most of all, I was unhappy. I was on my way to a life most only dreamed about. One Tiffany had dreamed about. And yet I would never have what she’d had. No matter how much money I made, no matter who I met or became, I didn’t have Manning then or now, and I wasn’t sure how to move past that.