Boredom....

That's the only logical and possible explanation for this.

I hate being hurt.

Because right now I'm in my trailer watching entertainment news shows while lying on a plush pink sofa eating French Silk ice cream and trying to not thinking about my hurting ankle.

Maybe I should call Alan. That's it. I picked up my phone, and dialed his number, then waited.

A small voice answers. "Hello, Powell.... resi...resid..." Then the voice gets muffled,  "Daddy I forgot how to say it."

I could hear a deep and familiar laugh on the other end of the line. Alan. So that must have been Avery Jade (or A.J. for short). "I'll get it baby girl." Alan says from far away, then he's speaking louder, actually into the phone now. "Hello. This is Alan."

"Hey... um hi Alan... it's me..." Before I can fully get out my name, he cuts in.

"Breanna." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Good to hear from you. How is everything?"

"Well... I was sort of in an accident today."

"Bre. Are you alright?!?" His voice escalated, and the panic rung clear and plain.

"Just a sprained ankle." I murmur, it feels good that someone actually cares about me.

"How'd it happen, Breanna?" Alan asks, breaking my thoughts.

I debate whether to tell him everything, then decide if I can talk to anyone it's Alan. "Alan. I'm considering quitting the show." It comes out in a low whisper.

"Why, Breanna?" Alan asks, an edge of protection in his voice.

"It was during a scene that I got pushed from a ladder. This guy I've never meet before caught me or otherwise I would have been injured really badly." I say, deciding not to get too specific.

But being Alan, he knew already. "It was that ex-boyfriend of yours wasn't it?" He practically growls.

"Yes." I answer. A thought (not for the first time) comes to me again. "I think I'm going to quit the show, Alan."