My Bully's Crush

Chapter 2: ELENA

I grew up in a time when for me, the world was so innocent. My single mom, who had been a Jill of all trades, most things having to do with the stage and acting, had been my best friend and confidant. Well, as much as a seven-year-old needs one.

She was the person I looked up to most in the world, so it was only natural, I guess, for me to get bitten by the acting bug after many hours spent tagging along by her side when the babysitter fell through. I was fascinated by the whole concept, and when I saw my first real TV show, with children like me and not the cartoon characters I knew so well from the only shows I was allowed to watch up until then, it just made sense for me to want to do that.

Back then, mom had not pulled any punches; she'd done her best to warn me about the vigors of getting into that life, but not once did she ever try to deter me, especially once she realized that it was my dream. When I look back on it now, I don't know how she did it with the little bit she had.

Even though she'd warned me about the rejections that were sure to come, nothing in life can prepare you for them, and there had been plenty before I got my first big break. From there, it was smooth sailing as I spent days doing the thing I loved most in this world while my innocence stayed intact.

Thankfully I had a mom who did her best to protect my innocence and who kept me grounded by forcing me to do normal childhood things when most of my peers were being forced into things that were way too adult for them. In some ways, though, that lack of early exposure hadn't prepared me for what was to come in my teenage years.

I didn't stop wanting to be an actress just because I outgrew the childhood shows I'd been booked for, but being a teen idol was a whole new ballgame. Luckily, I lucked out with my first long-running show that had been a success with the teenage audience that basically keeps the industry in business, and my stardom skyrocketed, propelling me into a whole new stratosphere.

Still, I still kept that glow, and the heart that had never changed grew right along with my changing elements. And then he came into my life. That boy that the world had fallen in love with just the year before. That boy that I had mooned over on the screen and in live audiences when I was lucky enough to score a ticket to one of his shows. Not that it was hard for up-and-coming me.

I still remember our first face-to-face meeting, that jolt of love that I felt when I didn't know that it was love. It was a feeling of being consumed entirely from head to toe, all the hairs on my body had stood on end, and the beat of my heart changed that day and has never been the same since. From that day until now, he was always a part of my heart's rhythm, whether good or bad.

Our love story was told from the first day to the last. Everyone had been invested, their favorite child actress and the most talked about teen heartthrob made for some good coverage, but for us, for me, it was real life. This wasn't acting; he and our love wasn't part of any script. Though many had their own ideas of how our love should play out.

He was the most amazing thing to happen to me since the day I fell in love with acting. He was my person, the thing that made my heart beat even stronger and with more longing than even acting had evoked. My mind and my soul were filled with dreams of happily ever after, and the dreams I wove around our life together are too many to be recounted.

I was just as lost in him as I had been in acting in the very beginning when it was still fresh and new before it became a job and the thing that put food on the table and a roof over my head and the heads of so many others who were dear to me.

But he was real, flesh and blood. Something I could touch and feel and get a ready response. I didn't have to wait for stats or polls to know where we were, and getting to see him every day was like life to my soul. Oh, the joys of a first real love.

He wasn't like the others. No studio had concocted our union; this was something that was ours, something we found when we weren't even looking, and as young, as we were, we just knew. Two teenagers in the first blush of love, and it was epic.

The world loved us and showed it in many different ways. We were hounded by paparazzi every time we stepped foot out the door, but we didn't care, I didn't care, because we were so lost and wrapped up in each other.

Plus, it was a hoot seeing our pictures on the front pages of every teen magazine and reading what our fans thought of our union, and the love and support we received only served to prove to me that we were meant for each other. So how did it all go so wrong?

I snapped back into the here and now when the car pulled into the garage at my place and the door closed behind us, shutting out the rest of the world, which is what I preferred these days. Long gone was my thirst for the spotlight, and where I once reveled in the flash of the camera and the call of my name from the crowd, I now wished to disappear, to be forgotten, to be left alone with my fears and sorrow.

“Sydney, you're still here." My best friend in the world came out the door with her arms held open to offer me the hug I so badly needed. On days when I regret stepping one toe into this world of entertainment, she is the one constant that makes me grateful that I had lived the life I had.

You hear so many stories about the false friendships and relationships that had been made and broken in the industry that it's hard to imagine that something as real as the bond we'd formed does exist. “How did it go? You should've let me come with you."

“That would've caused quite the stir."

Sydney was even more famous than me, even though she was a musician and not an actress and a musician like me. But we'd both made waves in the industry at about the same time, each of us holding strong in our respective fields.

“Come on; it's time for some ice cream." Though ice cream is my go-to choice for dessert, I have no taste for it right now. As is usual, after giving an interview, all I wanted was to climb into bed and pull the covers over my head.

“No, I think I just want to lay down for a while."

“Fine, you go on up, and I'll bring you some ice cream."

“Ah, Sydney, maybe we should let her rest; she's had a long day." My friend and assistant Rachel piped up and was promptly ignored. I'm not sure why my two best friends could never get along, but they don't. Some people might think it was jealousy, but they both get along equally well with the rest of my friend group, so I know it isn't that.

I was too tired to dwell on it now and headed for the stairs as Sydney went towards the kitchen to get the ice cream. “It's okay, Rachel; let her do as she pleases." She looked as if she wanted to argue but then thought better of it.

“Fine, I'll be in my room if you need me." She walked off in the direction of her room, which was on the first floor, away from mine upstairs. Mom had already left to go back to her place, and my aunt and uncle, who lives here with me, were at work at this time of day, so it was only the three of us here now since the staff had already come and gone.

Upstairs I only had enough strength left to kick off my shoes and crawl into bed. Although the day didn't turn out as horribly as I'd expected, I still felt drained. Now that I think of it, I hadn't had anything except the smoothie Rachel had made me for breakfast this morning.

Sydney soon appeared with a tray and two heaping sundaes, and my appetite was suddenly awakened. “Come on, sit up; we're going to gorge ourselves like the pigs we are and zone out on Netflix."

“Sounds a lot like Netflix and chill." I quipped.

“Listen you, you stay on your side of the bed, and I'll stay on mine."

We both broke out into laughter as she got settled in the bed next to me. “Ooh, what's this?" She held up my journal s***h diary that I'd forgotten to put away before I left earlier.

“Give it here."

“Oh no, let's see." She held it out of my reach playfully, and since there was nothing more than my ramblings and poor attempts at songwriting which I haven't been able to do since the breakup, I didn't put up too much of a fight.

“Oh my goodness, Elena, did you write all these songs?"

“They're all a bunch of crap. It's more like venting than anything, really." She scoured the pages, page after page, of my feelings poured out in ink. When she started shaking her head, I knew there was going to be trouble.

“Oh no, girlfriend, if you don't sing these, then I will. These are gold."