Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,14

about something other than yourself, maybe you could understand that I lived through every single one of those moments you can’t understand. It was my life…So excuse me if I’m having a little trouble feeling pity for all the pain and heartache you’re struggling to pretend to feel!”

The only thing louder than the silence was my rampaging heart.

Like a runner’s high, I felt fleeting bliss, having let out more than my frustration at Madeline, but also every comment I’d ever swallowed since The Girl in the Yellow Dress had been released. It came from all the times I’d had to bite my tongue waiting in line at the grocery store, while people around me discussed the downfall of present day teenagers as indicated by Adley Adair’s situation. It came from listening to girls in my college classes prattling on about how stupid Adley was for letting Cam get away. It came from all the judgments I’d quietly accepted.

After all, wasn’t it all just part of my punishment?

Madeline waited to reply just long enough to let my relief wear off and fear trickle in. Her eyes bore into me as I waited for retaliation.

“Leave,” she barked, but it wasn’t to me. She commanded her followers to leave us alone, striking even more fear into my heart.

Maybe, she wanted to eliminate the witnesses so she could murder me. As small as she was, there was something in her eyes alluding to some serious inner strength. She probably had special karate moves worked into her daily two-hour workouts by her private trainer or something.

Her large bodyguard was the last to waddle out, shaking the metal structure as he went, and I tensed, preparing for a fight.

What I couldn’t have expected was for Madeline to collapse onto the nearest sofa with a dejected scowl marking her red lips.

“I lost my virginity when I was fourteen.” Her matter of fact statement carried the same bluntness I’d come to expect from her, but it wasn’t fully capable of cushioning the surprise I felt by her haphazard confession.

“Um.” Awkwardly, I made several uncertain moves before finally taking the seat beside her. I thought about patting her on the back, but it felt too personal and too detached at the same time. I resolved to fiddle with my hands in my lap, while I desperately tried to think of something comforting to say.

She watched me carefully as always, and then started to laugh after a moment longer of my unease.

“I wasn’t telling you to make you feel sorry for me.” She smirked like she’d accomplished something. “My agent had arranged for me to start dating an older guy. He was sixteen and in a boy band. The exposure was great for both of our careers, and we spent a good deal of time together doing premiers and appearances and things like that.”

The idea of someone arranging a relationship for the point of media coverage was so foreign to me. It felt dirty, and this time, I really did reach over to place a comforting hand on Madeline’s arm.

“No one pressured you into anything, did they? It’s not your fault if they did. There are people you can talk to about these sorts of things, Madeline. I can’t imagine holding something like that inside.”

“God, I wasn’t raped.” Shrugging off my hand, she even had the audacity to chuckle at my assumption. “Believe me, there might have been a two year age difference between us, but maturity-wise I was practically his elder…I slept with him because it felt good. I’m not, nor have I ever been, interested in romance. I don’t have time for it, and from what I’ve seen, it only ever screws with people’s heads anyways.

“I’ve had one goal my entire life, and that’s to be an actress. I want to leave my mark on this world, and to do that, I have to be the best…I made an informed decision to have sex, because I don’t ever plan on falling in love. It seemed like as good a time as any to add an experience I could pull from for later roles. I’ve never regretted it either.”

We both paused as the information settled between us.

“That seems…” I couldn’t even begin to describe how I felt about what she’d just told me.

“Fucked up,” she filled in easily, nonplussed by my reaction. “It seems crazy to you, because our situations are very different. It’s exactly the same reason I’m having issues getting my head around your decisions, or at

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