CALISTA

"Shit, I hate these shoes."

I glance down at my feet, half-hidden beneath the folds of my silver gown. The dress is stunning—its deep plunge accentuating my figure, the metallic sheen catching the light in just the right way. But these heels? A nightmare. Every step is a lesson in pain. I shift my weight, trying to find some comfort, but it’s futile.

"What's the matter now?" Kara, my publicist and lifelong best friend, glances at me over her phone. Her professional composure is impeccable, but I can see the slight tension in her posture. She’s worried.

"They're killing me," I mutter, wincing as I adjust my stance. "I can't feel my toes. Tell me again why I agreed to wear these?"

"Because they make you look like a goddess," Kara responds, already scanning her phone. "But seriously, if I hear 'Can we get one more shot?' from a photographer tonight, I’m going to lose it."

I snort, but it’s not really a laugh. We both know the drill. The red carpet awaits—my moment to shine, or at least pretend like everything’s perfect. Tonight’s the premiere of Fading Echoes, a film that means more to me than I’m willing to admit. It’s my passion project, the one I’ve poured everything into. And yet, as the night unfolds, the weight of it all feels heavier than the gown I’m wearing.

The elevator doors open, and we’re hit with a flood of flashing lights. The chaos hits me like a tidal wave. The shouts of paparazzi, the desperate questions from reporters, the sea of fans stretching out behind the barricades—all of it blurs into a whirlwind of noise. I step out, my body tense, a smile fixed on my face, as rehearsed as the lines I’ve spoken a thousand times.

"Calista! Over here!" A voice cuts through the din.

"Tell us about Fading Echoes! Was it as hard as people are saying?" Another reporter chimes in.

I tune them out, focusing on the interviewers directly in front of me. I know the drill: pose, smile, repeat. The flashes of cameras are endless, each shot capturing the same image. The perfect version of me. Or at least the one I’m supposed to be.

"It was definitely one of the most challenging roles I've ever done," I say, my voice smooth, practiced. "I wanted to embody the character fully. It was a labor of love, and I’m really proud of what we accomplished."

I force the smile, and I’m about to pivot when another reporter jumps in, asking about Gabriel, of course.

"And what was it like working with Gabriel?" A voice cuts through the sea of questions. "Is the chemistry between your characters real, or just the magic of Hollywood?"

I bite back the urge to roll my eyes. Ugh. Gabriel. Always Gabriel. Every time. I swallow the sarcastic remark that almost slips out and answer with the practiced line.

"We had great chemistry as co-stars,” I say, offering a smile. "It made filming a lot easier."

The question comes up again. I’m tempted to say something like, “It was magical, like a fairy tale, but without the poison apple,” but I hold back. Sarcasm is my defense mechanism tonight.

Another reporter, sensing an opening, asks, “The character of Anna is very different from your past roles. Was there a specific moment that helped you really connect with her?”

“Honestly? The moment I realized how much she hated people asking her about her co-stars,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "But really, it took a lot of mental and physical preparation. You can’t just jump into her headspace. I spent hours researching, a lot of time in the gym... and a fair amount of time trying not to strangle Gabriel."

Kara coughs sharply next to me, her eyes wide. I suppress a grin. She’s always the one to reel me in when my sarcasm starts running free.

The flashes of cameras continue to assault me, but my mind is elsewhere. The endless stream of questions feels like a cruel game of déjà vu, each inquiry just a slight variation on the last. The Fading Echoes questions, the Gabriel questions, the “How’s your love life?” questions. I can’t help but wonder if anyone will ask something original. Or at least anything that doesn’t make me want to scream.

"Calista, you look stunning tonight. But, we have to ask—how’s your love life post-Chase?" one reporter dares to ask, his voice full of the satisfaction of knowing he’s hit a nerve.

My stomach drops. I keep my face impassive, but the tightness in my chest betrays me. Why is it always about him? Every time I step outside, it’s as though they’re all waiting to hear the scandal. Everyone loves a good breakup story.

I force a smile, tighter now. "Well, as you can imagine, life’s been so interesting lately," I say, voice dripping with a touch of sarcasm. "Being single in Hollywood? It’s practically a hobby. But, you know, I’m doing just fine. Focusing on my work, as I always have."

Kara shoots me a warning glance. She knows I’m a hair’s breadth away from snapping. I plaster on another smile and wave to the crowd, praying for the madness to end.

"One more shot, Calista!" A photographer calls. I can feel the last thread of patience I had snapping.

"Right," I mutter under my breath, pasting another smile on my face. I hate it here. The flashing lights. The questions about Chase. The fact that Gabriel is standing there, smug as ever, basking in the spotlight. And here I am, trying to make it all look effortless.

Kara hovers nearby, doing her best to keep me together. "Smile for the crowd, Cal," she whispers. "Don’t give them the tired look. You’ve got this."

I smile. It’s all I can do. Another smile, another wave. Everything’s fine. Really.

Back in the dressing room, the pre-red carpet nerves creep in again. Kara’s running around, adjusting her own jacket as she checks her phone. I sit in front of the mirror, letting the makeup artist finish up. The hum of the tools provides a moment of calm.

“Almost done,” Kara says, glancing at me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I just need to check in with the manager about seating.”

Hannah, my makeup artist, finishes with the blush. "Looking stunning," she says. "This silver gown? It’s got you looking like an icy princess."

I smirk, but it doesn’t quite mask the weight on my chest. “I’m definitely feeling the pressure to live up to it.”

Evan, my stylist, speaks from across the room as he makes final tweaks to my gown. "It’s not just the gown, Cal. You’ve got star power."

"And tonight’s the night they’ll see it," Kara chimes in, already checking her phone again. "Let’s go. Everything’s in place."

I nod, stomach churning. This isn’t just another premiere. This is the premiere. The one that’s supposed to prove something.

The red carpet continues to be a blur. Olivia Carter waves at the crowd, Derrick Johnson’s custom tuxedo is on full display, but none of it matters. My smile is fixed in place, but my mind is elsewhere. In a sea of cameras and flashing lights, I can’t escape the feeling that everything is falling apart in ways no one can see.

As I walk onto the balcony, the cool air hits me, a welcome break from the chaotic noise of the party. I’m not sure why I’m here, really. Maybe just to escape for a moment. I take a deep breath, the familiar scent of the city filling my lungs, and let my thoughts settle.

Of course, that’s when Gabriel shows up, looking as annoyingly handsome as ever. He leans against the railing, his presence impossible to ignore.

"Out here hiding from the crowd, huh?" he says, his voice smooth like it always is, but there's something underneath it. A challenge, maybe. Or just the usual Gabriel sarcasm.

"Something like that," I reply, not bothering to hide the slight roll of my eyes. "It's called needing a break from the chaos, Gabriel. Maybe you should try it sometime."

He chuckles, the sound so damn easy, like he's always amused by me. "I take breaks in my own way. Don’t need to hide to do it."

I shoot him a look, but there's an underlying current between us. It’s familiar, a tension that’s always been there, but we both know it’s nothing more than that. "Well, aren’t you special?"

Gabriel just grins. "I try."

I shake my head, a smirk tugging at my lips. "You really think you're the life of the party, don’t you?"

"Someone has to be," he replies smoothly, his eyes catching mine for a second longer than necessary. "But hey, if you need me to drag you back inside, I’m your guy."

I laugh, but it's sharp, a bit colder than I'd like. "Thanks, but I’m perfectly capable of getting myself back inside."

"Of course you are," he says, still smiling. "Wouldn’t expect anything less from you."

~~~~

And that's chapter 1 guys!

Anyways, what do you all think? I'd like to hear your thoughts in the comments section!

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Btw I'm still working on fixing an updates date, medical school is definitely not for the weak 😔

I hope you all have a good day!

Muah!💋
~Rhoda