Jesse's POV
The flash grenade went off three feet from my face.
At least, that's what the camera flashes felt like. A hundred explosions of light, all directed at me, all demanding I smile like my life was perfect.
"Jesse! Over here!"
"Jesse! Who are you wearing?"
"Jesse! Is it true you're dating Scarlett Morrison?"
I wasn't dating Scarlett Morrison. I wasn't dating anyone. But I smiled anyway because that's what Jesse Moreno, America's Golden Boy, always did.
"Jesse, move left!" My manager Jade emerged at my elbow, steering me like a remote-control car. "Smile bigger. You look tired."
I was tired. Tired of lying. Tired of being perfect. Tired of being alone in a crowd of thousands.
The premiere finally finished after two hours of fake smiles and faker conversations. I climbed into the black SUV, and the door shut, shutting out the screaming fans. Silence hit me like a wall.
"Great job tonight," Jade said, sliding in beside me. She pulled out her tablet. "Twitter loves you. Instagram loves you. Everyone loves you."
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. "Great."
"Don't sound so excited." Jade's voice changed. Got sharper. "We need to talk about the show."
My stomach dropped. "No."
"Jesse—" "I said no." I opened my eyes and looked at her. "I'm not doing it."
"You already signed the contract."
"Then I'll pay the penalty fee."
"It's two million dollars."
I went quiet. Two million dollars. That was a lot, even for me. But it wasn't about the money. It was about what the show would cost me in other ways.
"Love in the Spotlight" was a reality dating show. Twelve celebrities trapped in a mansion, pretending to find love while cameras filmed everything. It was fake. Scripted. Manipulated. Everything I hated about Hollywood, wrapped up in one awful package.
"Your team thinks it will make you more relatable," Jade added. She wasn't looking at me. That meant she didn't believe it either. "Right now, you're too perfect. Too invincible. America wants to see you weak. Looking for love."
"I don't want to look for love on TV."
"Then look for it in real life!" Jade finally turned to face me. Her eyes were angry. "When's the last time you went on a real date? When's the last time you let anyone get close to you?"
Three years ago. The answer was three years ago, but I didn't say it out loud.
Jade sighed. "The show starts tomorrow. The car picks you up at noon. Pack for six weeks."
"Tomorrow?" My voice came out too loud. "You said I had time to think about it!"
"You've had three months to think about it. You keep saying no, but the deal says yes. So tomorrow, you're going." She gathered her things. "And Jesse? Try to actually have fun. You might even meet someone special."
I wouldn't. I knew I wouldn't. Because the only person I'd ever wanted was gone, and it was my own fault.
The SUV dropped Jade at her apartment, then took me to my house in the hills. It was big and empty and cold. Five bedrooms for one person. A pool I never used. A view of the city lights that just told me how alone I was.
I poured a glass of water and sat on my couch. My phone was in my hand before I knew I'd picked it up. My thumb moved on its own, opening my pictures, scrolling back, back, back through three years of carefully organized memories.
And then I found it.
The picture I always looked for. The one I should have deleted a thousand times but couldn't.
A girl with a bright smile and tired eyes. Messy black hair. A coffee cup halfway to her lips. She was laughing at something I'd said, and the morning light made her glow.
Isla.
My chest hurt just looking at her face. Three years, and it still hurt like yesterday.
We'd been together for eight months. Eight perfect, secret, impossible months. She was a struggling actor. I was a nobody trying to become somebody. We'd met at an audition and stayed up all night talking about dreams and fears and everything in between.
Then one day, she was gone.
Blocked my number. Moved homes. Disappeared like I'd meant nothing. Like we'd meant nothing.
I'd looked for her everywhere. Asked common friends. Driven past her favorite coffee shop every week. But Isla Chen had vanished, and I'd been left with questions that had no solutions.
My finger hovered over the delete button. I did this every week. Looked at her photo, tried to delete it, failed.
This time, I pressed it.
The photo vanished.
Immediately, my heart started racing. What did I just do? I hurriedly opened my recently deleted folder, but my hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the phone.
A text message popped up at the top of my screen.
Unknown number.
My heart stopped completely.
I opened it.
"Jesse Moreno. This is Derek from Spotlight Productions. Just checking your arrival tomorrow at noon for 'Love in the Spotlight.' We're excited to have you. By the way, we've added a last-minute group member you might find... interesting. Someone from your life. See you tomorrow."
Someone from my past.
My hands went numb. It couldn't be. There was no way. Isla wouldn't do a TV show. She hated that stuff more than I did.
But what if—
Another text came through. This time from Jade.
"Don't freak out. Call me right now."
I called. She answered on the first ring.
"Did you get the message from production?" Her voice was tight.
"What's going on, Jade? Who did they cast?"
She was quiet for too long.
"Jade!"
"Isla Chen," she whispered. "They cast Isla Chen."
The phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor.
Isla. Tomorrow. The same house. For six weeks.
The girl who wrecked me would be ten feet away, and there was nowhere to run.
My phone buzzed again from the floor. I picked it up with shaking hands.
One more text. This time from a number I didn't recognize, but somehow knew exactly who it was from.
"I'm sorry." Two words. After three years of silence. Two words, and my entire world turned sideways.
I stared at those words until my vision blurred.
Tomorrow, I'd see her face.
Tomorrow, I'd get my answers.
Tomorrow, everything would either make sense
or fall apart totally.
And I had no idea which one I was hoping for.