Crossed paths

Chapter 6 Move On

Allena

I left the quiet sanctuary of the garden and walked straight back into the chaotic green room area of the studio. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Gathering every single ounce of my courage, I reached Jack's door and knocked gently. There was no response.

Suddenly, before I could lift my hand to knock a second time, the door swung open and someone shoved me back with shocking force. I stumbled wildly, my back crashing hard against the opposite wall of the narrow corridor. A sharp ache flared across my shoulders, and I cringed in pain.

Standing right in front of me was a blonde man, his features twisted into an expression of pure malice. It was William, the guy who had been filling out paperwork right alongside me this morning for the assistant position. He had been desperate for the job too, and maybe he will understand my position and help me out here.

"Why the hell are you knocking on Mr. Paul's door?" he hissed, stepping closer to intimidate me. "Do you want to make me lose my job?"

"I am so sorry," I tried to explain, pressing myself against the wall. "But I really need to speak with him. I just got fired because of a misunderstanding with Jack...I mean Mr. Paulson, I really need to clear."

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as his eyes swept over me with a dry, sneer. "Oh, sweetheart, let me guess. You thought cooking up some tragic little sob story will melt me and I will let you right into his lap, huh? Very original. If you think batting your eyelashes and parading that cute little body around is going to get you anywhere near him, you are desperately auditioning for the wrong role. Pack up your cheap tricks and take that ass—"

"Stop right there."

The deep, thundering voice shattered the tension in the hallway. I peeked over William's trembling shoulder and saw Jack standing in the doorway of his dressing room. His jaw was clenched so tightly his muscles rippled, and his hands were curled into white-knuckled fists. The sheer anger radiating from him was terrifying, yet he still looked impossibly handsome.

Jack glared at the assistant, his voice dripping with an icy, authoritative rage. "William, get out of my sight. Don't you dare show me your face again on this set. And you," he added, his dark eyes snapping directly to mine, "follow me into my office."

William's face turned completely white with shock, quickly scrambling away down the hall, but I did not stay to watch him leave.

Keeping my head down, I quietly followed Jack into the room without a single word.

As the door clicked shut behind us, I looked around the space. It looked far more like a high-end corporate office than a temporary studio dressing room. The interior was sleek and beautiful, dominated by a large, polished wooden desk and elegant, matching decor that made the room feel imposing.

Jack walked past me, sitting down behind the massive desk, and looked straight into my eyes. His expression was completely blank, devoid of any warmth.

"If you are finished looking at the furniture, will you tell me the purpose of your visit?" he said curtly. The utter lack of emotion in his voice hurt more than his anger ever could.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain as formal as humanly possible. "I just wanted to apologize for my behavior this morning, Sir. I need this job very badly, and I assure you that if you give me another chance, I will do my absolute best to stay out of your way."

I rushed the words out all in one breath looking at the floor the whole time, desperate to finish before my composure cracked. The moment the last syllable left my lips, I turned on my heel and practically ran out of the room, terrified that he would see the tears already blurring my eyes.

I did not stop running until I reached the safety of my tiny apartment. Flinging myself onto the bed, I finally let go, crying until my chest ached and my eyes burned. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

When I finally woke up, the bedroom was bathed in a dull light. I checked the clock; it was four in the evening. I had exactly two hours before my evening shift at the nightclub started. Sitting up, I forced myself to accept the reality of the situation.

Jack was never going to give me my job back.

The realization settled in my chest like a physical weight, cold and absolute. Trying to soothe the lingering ache, I wrapped my hands around a warm mug of rich hot chocolate, letting the steam rise against my face. It did little to thaw the numbness inside. Needing an escape that my mind couldn't provide, I pulled my wooden canvas onto its stand in the quiet corner of the room.

When I picked up my brush, the world finally slowed down. I poured all of my hidden pain, the humiliating rejection, and the strange, frustrating longing for a man who looked at me like dirt directly onto the canvas. The colors blended and twisted under my hands, a chaotic storm of deep blues and fractured light. With every stroke, the suffocating weight on my shoulders began to lift. For a couple of hours, the canvas was the only thing that mattered.

But reality always demands to be paid.

A sharp alarm rang from my phone, shattering the peaceful silence. Six o'clock. The illusion of safety vanished, replaced by the dread of my upcoming shift.

I walked over to the closet and pulled out my uniform for the nightclub. I hated it with a passion. The fabric was thin, cheap, and suffocatingly tight, designed to cling to every curve. As I tugged the zipper up, the dress squeezed the air straight out of my lungs, a harsh reminder of the compromise I had to make just to pay rent.

Standing in front of the cracked mirror, I smoothed down the impossibly short skirt and stared at my reflection. My eyes were still slightly rimmed with red, but the tears were gone. I resolved right then and there to bury today. I couldn't afford to dwell on Jack, or the job I lost, or the way my heart had hammered when he stood close to me. He belonged to a world I didn't fit into.

I took one last, deep breath, locking Allena the artist away, and stepping into the girl the club required me to be. I had to face my reality, one single day at a time.