Chapter Twenty-Four

Apparently, it was possible to float while filming scenes. Or running scenes. Or blocking scenes. Wren was on cloud nine, and nothing was yanking her back to Earth. She was leading the second season of a show she was incredibly proud of, which was nearing the end of filming and was, hopefully, going to be a smash hit. Her fanbase was happier with her than ever, and the ones whose opinions she didn’t care about—especially that moms’ group about ‘protecting’ kids or something—were even more vocal about disliking her influence than they’d been when she’d come out, so she had to be doing something right. She’d had several offers for some movies beyond working for the asshole she had no interest in working with—and even better, she was thinking of turning them all down to really start working on getting her production company off the ground. The media had mostly responded in her favor about the asshole guy who’d asked about Nora.

All of that, though, was nothing but a touch of cinnamon in the absolute dessert of her life that was Madison.

Was that too sappy? That was probably too sappy.

She couldn’t even find it in herself to care.

She filmed scenes and put her entire soul into the ones Madison had helped shape. And after filming them, the two of them would disappear somewhere. Or stay on set, heads together and chatting.

To be honest, as much as Wren liked a make-out session or a quickie in her dressing room, she loved sitting there on set, clearly together, just talking and sipping coffee Madison had appeared with from the café down the road that was much better than the coffee on set. There was something about being there with Madison that Wren couldn’t get over.

“You look way too happy,” Madison murmured, leg pressed to Wren’s, hand in Wren’s on top of her thigh.

“I am,” Wren said, beaming.

“You’ve been filming longer than I’ve worked at the hospital today, aren’t you exhausted?”

“I am,” Wren said, still beaming. Alicia had had to work extra hard by the evening to cover up the dark circles under her eyes.

“Yet here you are, looking ecstatic.”

Glancing around the room, Wren hummed a ‘yes.’ The set was hectic, some issue with the lights that Wren hadn’t followed. They were going to run even more behind than they already were. Even Charles seemed peeved, hissing a conversation with Erin, face a thundercloud.

All of this was happening, and Wren was here, holding hands with another woman and no one was even paying them any attention. This was never something she’d thought she’d have. Not without dire consequences: the end of her career, losing everyone she cared about, a drought. Her mother had made her believe that was what would happen, and it had been incredibly hard to let go of that belief.

Now here she was, living the opposite.

She caught Madison’s eye again, unable to wipe the smile away. “I didn’t know this was possible.”

“Being this tired?”

Wren narrowed her eyes. Madison winked.

“Yes, that’s what I meant,” Wren said haughtily.

Madison chuckled, squeezing her hand and using it to tug her forward, dropping a quick kiss on Wren’s lips. “I’m sorry, tell me, what didn’t you know was possible?”

For a second, Wren considered dragging out the playful ‘I’m annoyed’ thing for fun, but let it go in favor of saying what she wanted. Plus, that kiss had been incredible, and now they were pressed even closer together. “This. Being with another woman, on set, and the world isn’t ending. I mean, look at us. We’re chilling with our coffees, coupling, and we’re just like anyone else.”

“Coupling, huh?” Madison murmured, eyebrow quirked.

Wren’s eyes went wide. “Uh—or, you know, dating? Still? I don’t mind, whatever—”

“Breathe.”

Wren breathed.

“We’re definitely coupling,” Madison whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “You can calm down.”

“Want to be my girlfriend, then?”

“I definitely want to be your girlfriend,” Madison said. “I kind of assumed I was already.”

So, Wren was living on cloud nine.

Which meant it only took winding up filming and Dan Barrows doing an interview to bring it all smashing to the ground around her.

Maybe she liked to make it sound more dramatic than it was.

* * *

“Dan has absolutely gone too far!” Wren’s mother slammed her palm on Wren’s breakfast counter, the sound of it sending Hathor scurrying from the room in a scrabbling of claws.

Wren narrowed her eyes at her mother, who winced.

“Sorry, Hathor,” she called down the hall.

Which was far too late; she was long gone.

“Dan is only using this to stir up more press, you know that,” Wren said consolingly.

Though the words tasted a little bitter in her mouth. Because she’d been doing what the studio had wanted. So had Madison. And now Dan had gone rogue and was clearly enjoying himself in doing so way too much.

What had Wren told Madison he was?

Untouchable.

He would be after this, too. None of this would touch him. He brought his name and money to any project; no one would really begrudge him this. He’d get some verbal slap on the wrist from someone in the studio and nothing else.

Wren’s mother’s face was screwed up, a long furrow between her eyes as she sat with her steaming green tea that Wren kept only for her because Wren thought it tasted like grass. Her mother sat on the stool with her legs elegantly crossed, her eyes back on the tablet she had out.

“I’ve held my tongue with that man before, but this is… this is harming the show, and his own image. How does he not see that?”

Wren shrugged, trying not to let the anger in her gut lick up too high. Stinging in her hands made her relax them as she realized her fingernails were biting into her palms. “He doesn’t care. He’s producing three shows right now. He’s done this to be an asshole, and nothing more.”

“We won’t be working with him again any time soon.” Her mother dropped the tablet on the counter and pulled her tea over to herself. She grimaced as she realized what she’d said. “If you don’t want to,” she added quickly. She didn’t make eye contact as she took a hasty sip.

Normally that first kind of comment rankled. Was one of the kinds of comments that Wren had been fighting against for a while now. But this time, her mother hadn’t said it in the way she used to—making all the decisions for Wren because ‘she knew best.’

It had felt more in solidarity. Considering her mother had tried to make her work with Marcus Daily again on many occasions, Wren would take this as a win.

“I knew what you meant,” Wren said kindly.

When her mother’s eyes met hers, there was a flash of gratefulness in them as she straightened and sipped her tea, the look gone in an instant.

Who said people couldn’t change?

Incrementally.

“And what is your Madison going to say about this?”

Your Madison.

“She’s on her way over, so I’ll find out.”

Her mother straightened. “On her way over?”

“Yes. So…skedaddle.”

“I can’t meet her?”

“Any other time I’d say sure. But with this news, now’s probably not the best time.”

“Now is a fine time. I can just say hi. Then be on my way.”

“Skedaddle.” Wren made a little shoo motion.

To be fair, she’d warned Madison through text that her mother would be here, just in case Wren couldn’t get her out of her hair quickly enough, but this was definitely not the ideal time. Who knew what her mother might blurt out in these circumstances?

Her mother sighed, pushing her empty mug toward Wren and gathering her bag onto her shoulder. “Fine. I have Pilates, anyway.”

Wren escorted her mother out and Madison pulled up right as Wren’s mother was reaching her car.

“Oh, no,” her mother said, delighted tone in complete contrast to her words. “You didn’t get me out fast enough.”

Wren rolled her eyes.

So, this was happening.

As Madison got out of her car, Wren gave her a smile and walked down the steps to take Madison’s hand. “Mom, this is Madison. Madison, this is my mom, Debbie.”

Her mother pushed her glasses on top of her head and held out a slim hand. “We met in the hospital.”

“We did.” Madison shook her hand. “Nice to meet you again, though.”

“It is.” Wren’s mother was doing the little chin jutting thing she did when she was sizing someone up. “Wren is desperate for me to leave, though, so I should be on my way.”

“I didn’t mean it like—”

“Yes, you did, dear.”

Madison smothered her amusement, and Wren’s mother got in her car and drove away, the gate opening to let her out.

“So, you met my mother,” Wren said as she waved again before her mother pulled into the street and was gone, the gate swinging shut silently behind her.

“I did.” Madison turned to face her, concerned. “Normally that’d be a big deal, but what the hell did Dan do?”

“You didn’t read it?”

“No. I got your message and came over; I was at the grocery store.”

“It only just came out.”

“What did?”

“Do you have much time?”

Madison shook her head. “I have to start my shift soon.”

Wren sighed and plopped down on the step, Madison sitting down next to her. Madison turned, resting her back against the railings that ran down the step and looking at her, concerned. Wren held her phone up so Madison could read the headline.

“‘Acker’s Relationship Complete Lie—What Else Has She Lied About for Attention, Ponders Producer.’” Madison’s eyebrows crept up her forehead. “But…”

“I know.”

“But he’s part of the team that wanted us to fake it? I didn’t think they really announced that they push their celebrities to do this type of stuff.”

“They don’t. Ever.”

“Won’t they rip him a new one for this?”

“I mean, I hope so.” Wren put her phone down on the step above them. “But not much is really going to happen to him.”

“I thought it was common to do things for press attention?”

“It is.”

“But he’s making it sound like it was all you.”

“Yup.”

“That’s not fair!” Madison was indignant, straightening up and throwing her hands out. “He’s making it sound like you’re attention seeking—” Wren almost pointed out that Madison had thought the same thing of her, but thought better of it right then “—and that it was all your idea. Plus, it’s not fake anymore! What an asshole!”

“Isn’t he? He’s getting to insult my relationship while hiding the fact that it’s about my being a lesbian. Hidden homophobia, what a charmer.”

“We’ll just tell them it’s all real!”

Wren rested a hand on Madison’s knee, squeezing it. “We will. Tyrone is already setting up some interviews so we can talk about how we went along with the assumption that we were together because we were overwhelmed and I misspoke, and in that time we fell for each other and now we’re together. All the romance.”

“Will that help?”

“I mean, a lot of people will actually love it. But there’s a lot of anger on my socials right now, some outright defending us with photos saying, ‘This shit can’t be faked—’” that got a smile from Madison “—but some are latching onto the attention seeking, using how I came out and the issues with Marcus Daily as combined proof that I’m actually a master manipulator to have people thinking I’m anything but fake.”

Madison put her hand over Wren’s. “I’m sorry.”

Wren gave a half-shrug. “It’s okay.” And it was. There was always something going on in the tabloids and online. She would recover. “He wanted to hurt us, and queer people. I’ll fix that.”

“Just tell them about his homophobic comments.”

“I can’t,” Wren said automatically.

“Why not?”

“It’s completely unprofessional, and I’m under contract to speak a certain way.”

Madison’s face was clouded over, troubled. “I hate that he gets away with it.”

“Me too.”

Those words though, ‘why not?’, ran around and around Wren’s head.

Because why not?

* * *

“Wow, TikTok is going off on you.”

Wren sighed and hit the button for a double shot of coffee from the machine. A headache was building between her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than for it to be home time. Especially since she had Madison staying the night. Wren would cook something and they’d make out on the couch and let the food go cold.

No. That would be a travesty. They’d eat. Then make out.

“Wren?”

Wren whipped around. “Huh?”

Trinity raised her eyebrows, long legs propped up on the coffee table and seeming thoroughly amused. “I mentioned how TikTok was going off and you looked mad for a second and then got all distracted.”

Wren grabbed her coffee and walked over to sit down. “I was thinking about making out with Madison tonight.”

Trinity smirked. “When aren’t you thinking of making out with Madison?”

Wren pondered the question, blowing on her drink. “Maybe ten minutes of the day.”

“I think you’re being way too generous with yourself, but fine.”

“What does TikTok have to say?”

“You’d know if you got one.”

“It’s too much effort,” Wren whined. “The rest is hard enough and I have a team for that.”

Trinity rolled her eyes. “There are people annoyed it was all fake, people saying it must be true, rants about your attention seeking, etcetera, etcetera.”

“So exactly the same as Twitter and Instagram and the tabloids.”

“Yes, but with videos and catchy music.”

“Instagram has that too.”

“You’re so old.”

Wren couldn’t even bother being indignant. Since turning thirty she’d rapidly started to feel that way. Another type of social media? So much effort. She’d woken up with a sore back the other day. Had she slept wrong? Sneezed in her sleep? Who knew? But it had hurt. “You should listen to your elders.”

“About what?”

Oh, yeah. Wren hadn’t even really been making a point. “About everything.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. Shit, I hate Dan. I really wish he’d get what was coming to him.”

“Sadly, I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon.”

“Can’t I defend you? I can make a TikTok right now or tweet something in support of you and calling out Dan.”

Wishing she could say yes, Wren shook her head. That would be the worst thing for Trinity to do. The absolute worst. Trinity needed to keep her head down with stuff like that. She was at the point in her career where she could keep launching skyward or topple and fall and it was incredibly hard for anyone to see what a fragile pedestal she was on. Especially herself. Trinity was all attitude wrapped up in a tiny package—she reminded Wren of a chihuahua like that. “What did your PR team say when you mentioned that?”

Trinity blinked at her. “Nothing.”

Wren took a sip and watched her.

“Okay, maybe they said no, over their dead bodies, not a chance, do not put a foot in that mess.”

“And?”

Trinity sighed, crossing her arms and slumping even further into the couch. “Let your team handle it and then we’ll assess how to respond.”

“Exactly.”

“So, how are you going to respond?”

“Play it out all romantically, a story of us coming together because of a fake relationship. That’s what Tyrone has said, and the team here, so that’s what I’ll do.”

“And it’s true.”

“Exactly.”

“And Dan?”

“Nothing.”

Except now she was definitely contemplating something.

“Oh, come on, he’s going to try and bury you under this and be the homophobic prick he is and suffer no consequences?”

“He’s an allo cishet white dude in Hollywood. So, yes.”

“That really sucks.”

“It does.”

“I think you should tear him a new one.”

Wren took a sip of her coffee. “I know.”

There was a knock on the door, and a runner stuck their head in when Wren called to them to come in. Not anyone Wren recognized. “Miss Acker and Miss Dray, they’re ready for you on set.”

“Thanks.” Wren smiled. She quickly drained the rest of her too-hot coffee and left the cup on the table.

All of two seconds had passed, but the runner was already gone as Trinity and Wren made their way to set.

“How’s Madison handling the media storm?”

“It had only just broken when we talked. I tried to warn her the heat would be up a lot. She said she was working all day, and the hospital is pretty good at keeping paparazzi away.”

“Do they know where she lives?”

“She’s had the odd photographer outside her apartment building, but there hasn’t been anything exciting for them yet.” Wren side-stepped a pile of cables and a cart filled with equipment in the hallway, shrugging. “I think this could definitely get them camping outside more today. She’s going to go straight to my place from the hospital, hopefully that’ll all be fine.”

“Hence the thinking of making out with her.”

Wren grinned. “Exactly.”

They emerged onto set, and the usual chaos greeted them. A light shone round in an arc, blinding them both before the beam was focused back where it was supposed to be.

“Sorry!” someone called out.

They both waved a hand to signal no problem as they made their way to Charles.

“Are you both ready to get back into the scene?” Erin asked as they approached the video village.

“For sure,” Wren said.

“Never readier,” Trinity agreed.

Charles grabbed a script he’d highlighted and started going over some changes he’d come up with the last hour they’d been on break—Charles was never on break. Biting her lip, Wren nodded, everything minor. She was already slipping into the scene easily, all of it ready in her mind. “We’ll run it once there before filming.”

And they were back at it, the entire issue with Dan slipping far away.

Wren knew what she wanted to do. And she was going to do it.

Under the lights, Wren straightened as Trinity stood across from her, rolling her shoulders and poking her tongue out at Wren, a flash going off as someone caught a behind-the-scenes still, capturing Trinity being a fool and Wren laughing.

Everything would be worth it. She’d spent her entire working life building herself up to a certain point. She could risk knocking it all down.

Trinity’s face changed as she took a deep breath and became her character.

The status quo was rarely shaken.

Wren would shake the hell out of it, to give queer actors like herself, women like Trinity, and ones who would come after her a chance to not have to deal with it.

What else had Wren been building toward, if not that?