wave my arms around, gesturing to my new apartment. “You like having me around so much, you kicked me out and forced me to live here. Thanks, sis.”
She shrugs. “Just consider me the momma bird kicking the baby bird out of the nest. You’re welcome.” She takes a sip of her wine and lets out a heavy sigh. “Speaking of momma bird, is she still hounding you about leaving LA?”
“Yeah. She isn’t happy about it, that’s for sure. But I can’t keep living her dream when it makes me so unhappy.”
Monica is silent for a few beats as she swirls her wine. “When did you realize you didn’t love modeling anymore? I mean, I knew you were growing apart from it years ago, but you never did tell me why.”
I sigh and play with the stem of my wine glass. “I think over time, I just started to realize that I loved it for all the wrong reasons.” My face heats with the admission, but I keep going anyway. It feels good to air the truth after the years of lies I’ve been telling myself and everyone else. “In part, I loved that I made Mom so proud. I loved the clothes, the attention. Men were always asking me out, and the money was good enough to afford an apartment in downtown LA. I didn’t really have any worries, but I also never thought about the future, of what my life would be like when I grew tired of the noise, you know?”
Monica glues her sad eyes to mine. “I get it, Mags. But what about acting? You still want to do that, right? I mean, you’re still talking to that agent.”
I swirl my wine glass around as I heavily debate how much I should tell my little sister. I’ve spent years protecting her from the harsh world. But then I remember that I don’t need to do that anymore. “Um, to be honest, I don’t really have an agent.”
Monica’s mouth falls open, and I cringe as I continue with my admission.
“I don’t want to act either, M. I thought I did, but…” I bite down on my lip, hoping that will be enough information.
“What changed?” she presses.
Memories of Regis Malone bombard my thoughts, and I shudder at the last mental image I have of him. “There was this producer in LA. He wanted to meet me to discuss a role, so I met up with him at a bar. He’d seen me in some commercials and sold me on this new soap opera he was producing. Well, he was so interested that he ended up coming to New York for that disastrous runway event. He said he was going to bring his casting director and meet me the very next day.”
I shake my head, trying to alleviate the crippling humiliation I still feel over the entire ordeal. Even though Monica is my sister and the most understanding person in the world, I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about my experience with the soap opera producer.
“So what happened?”
I take out my phone and find the video app on which my literal fall from grace will live on forever. All I have to do is search for the words “runway fall New York,” and it’s the first video that pops up. It has over two million views. I sigh and hand the phone to my sister. I watch her reactions instead of the video because I can’t bring myself to ever watch it again.
Her free hand flies to her mouth, and her audible gasp can be heard above the gasp of the crowd’s, a sound that will never escape my memory. Her eyes shoot to mine, a mixture of emotions flooding them. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
I shrug. “You were going through so much when I got to town. I wanted to help you, not add to your stress.”
“You’ve always done that.” She says the words accusingly, like I betrayed her in some way. “You’ve always put my feelings before your own. I wish you would have talked to me about this, Mags. We could have helped each other.”
I nod. “I know that, but I was embarrassed too. Embarrassed, and confused, and angry. I think I needed some time to distance myself from it all. Talking about it might not have helped, but it’s helping now.”
Monica’s eyes swell with tears as she hands me back my phone. “So then what about this Regis guy? Don’t tell