MESSY
016, that's a wrap

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olympiahartley: a love letter so Sicily, thank you for being my home for the last three months. for bringing me great memories that both grew my heart as well as broke it. Promise I'll be back soon x

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username: excuse me, who broke your heart???

username1: you're so beautiful!!!

username2: 🥹🥹

florencepugh: ❤️❤️

username3: me waiting for Drew's comment 👀👀

username4: what do you mean there's break up rumours between olly & drew!!!
   — username5: SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW!!

rhyshartley: London misses you!!

username5: gonna miss your Italian era

chiaraantonelli: going to miss you!! 😔
  — olympiahartley: love love love you !! ❤️

username6: nobody gonna talk about the rumours that her and Callum had a relationship on set?
— username7: wouldn't surprise me, have you seen the way they look at each other

—

NOTHING HURTS LIKE LOVE. and I fear I've found that out in the worst way possible — my chest tenses when he's near: when I hear his voice, when I smell his cologne in the hallways, when I have to film with him.

It's been six days, since the garden. since he walked away for the second and what feels like final time. We've worked together, we've made it work — pretended to be in love when the cameras roll. Even in the scenes where I need to hold him or kiss him, I search in his eyes for Callum and not his character.

It's an impossible task. I don't see any real emotion in the way he looks at me, hence why you see the film when it eventually exhibits — half of our most intimate scenes will have my eyes closed because you don't expect to be permanently glassy eyed with the person you love.

And when we kiss, we conveniently we have to a lot towards the end of the shoot — I try to put emotion into it. Using my lips to plead with him, for a minute to talk, I entangle ourselves hoping he'll give me a chance. Yet when the scene ends and we're dismissed he leaves, and I stare at him wondering where we go from here. If we could even go anywhere from here.

And yet here I am, final days on set — dabbing the under of my eyes with a tissue as I exhale and prepare myself to have someone who can't look at me in the eye treat me the way I thought my confession in the garden would lead to.

Maybe he's right. Maybe I was too late — maybe our wires passed a long time ago and yet neither of us said anything. Maybe that first night, in that apartment we were sharing — maybe if I just leaned in. Or my birthday in cornwall, on that damn deck chair..if I had just kissed him.

All the moments we could have: the Christmas' I spent with him and his family, the summers he spent with mine. All those almost that if I just wasn't that naive I could have read differently and we wouldn't be here.

But I also hate that he didn't make moves on any of those occasions either — and yet I'm getting all the blame for being ' too late' to be in a relationship with him. If that's even what I want. I only broke up with Drew two weeks ago.

Maybe I just need a break from romance for a little while ? The tales of love are much too turbulent for me to handle.

As I turn my head, I hear knuckles lightly tap the door of my trailer — turning as it opens and reveals the face of Jenny peaks in, her face bronzer than the last time we spoke. Nice to see someone has been taking advantage of our last week in Italy on my behalf.

" thought I'd find you in here." she tells me, I offer a small yet sad smile that extends up to my eyes.

I lift my knees to my chest as she walks closer, placing herself down on the small little stool that sits next to the sofa.

her eyes wander around the inside of the trailer "you been spending a lot of time in here huh?" she asks and I nod my head.

" not really been in the socialising mood lately." I say blankly, she looks back at me head tilted slightly as an exhale falls from her lips.

" is this about Callum or Drew?" she hums, and my brows furrow and she scoffs at my confusion.

Arms crossing over her chest " you thought you could have a lovers quarrel on set and expect nobody to notice ?"

My eyes roll slightly, my accurate description of it wouldn't be a 'lovers quarrel' — it would insinuate that we had ever been together, that I had once had him the way I wanted to have him.

But I haven't, and I don't currently. Instead, whilst he sits in the chairs talking to our fellow cast, I sit here. Moping and counting down the hours until I can leave this place and the memories that will haunt me when I do so.

I think I'll go home for a little bit, back to London. Camp up in my childhood bedroom for a little while — go on coffee dates with my mum and go to football games with my dad. Figure out what I'm going to do with my life, and where exactly in this world I'm going to do it.

" is it affecting my work?" i ask her, and she shakes her head and my head nods " then why does it matter?"

I watch as her brows furrow and she exhales, looking at me with the slight plead " because, I care about you more than I do your career Olympia." she tells me.

I turn away from her, feeling my eyes beginning to water. Lifting a shaky hand to my press against my lips to stop them from quivering. My nose draws in a heavy breath that I use to try and compose myself.

But I can't, as soon as I feel Jenny's arms wrap around me and her cheek move to sit on my shoulder. I hear the sobs leaving my mouth before I can even comprehend it is happening.

The tears rush down my cheeks and create little marks on the skirt of my characters outfit. My nose becomes congested as I begin to sniffle,

Head shaking " I think I've lost him," I whisper, relieving the pressure that sits on my chest.

Her hand rubs the length of my lower arm, "who? who have you lost?"

I inhale as I feel my eyes well up again " Ca-Callum, I've lost him again and I don't think he's coming back." I tell her, as what she mumbles to calm me down is incoherent to me.

I turn to look at her, " he hates me." I watch as she shakes her head. Pushing back my hair and looking at me with this gentle smile,

" I've known that boy as long as you have." she informs me " he feels everything but hate for you, he always has."

Jenny is a good judge of character, she always has been . I think she was hurt when Callum ditched the first time — hurt both for me but because she thought she could trust him. In this business you encounter lots of people who will enter your life and walk back out of it when they've achieved what they wanted from you. Fame, a role or just connections. People will hurt you to get what they want, it's just how it works.

Sniffling as I offer a smile that doesn't reach my eyes " yeah, I'm not so sure anymore." I tell her.

I exhale, tilting my head upwards " If I had only just realised I liked him all those years ago."

Her posture straightens, " no! none of this is your fault Olympia!" she tells me " you have given you're everything to that boy, damn it if you didn't realise you were in love with him when he wanted you to-"

Taking a deep breath, she manages to calm down enough to continue " people fall at different times, and if he can't accept it or says it's too late.." she shrugs " maybe he's better off not being in your life."

As much as I hate it, I agree. As much as I dream that one day me and Callum will be together, walk hand and hand down the streets of London. I couldn't help that I didn't fall in love with him at the same speed he did for me.

Conversations of us being anything more than friends were never brought to me, he fell in love with me in silence and I was oblivious.

Nodding, I wipe under my eyes " yeah, maybe you're right."

But yet I'm praying that she's wrong.

I'M EVENTUALLY CALLED TO SET, Jenny gives me a tighter hug than usual as I follow the assistant to set. Repeat my same ritual of speaking to everyone, maybe a little bit more enthusiastic than normal due to the fact I've been hiding out the last week.

And I walk onto the set, it's a hallway. And Callum stands there, getting his makeup touched up as he recites his lines lowly.

Throat runs dry, hands begin to sweat — looking for anything to distract myself with. But someone calls my name and his head turns, he looks sad when his eyes land on me.

I try to smile but my mind doesn't correspond with my lips so I find myself just staring at him. Whatever this person is saying to me flows through one ear and out another in the name of the man who stands ten metres away. How I melt at his gaze, how when we lock eyes that my world tilts on its axis and everything begins to pivot around him. How i can't find myself concentrating on anything but solely him.

"Olympia, you there?" says the person who talks to me once they realise what ( or more specifically who) im focused on. My smile is short as i pull my eyes from him first and nod.

" sorry, skipped my coffee this morning." i lie, like i didn't burn my mouth on my latte on the way over here because the only person who remembers to put those couple of ice cubes in my coffee stands away from me, yet still looking at me.

The conversation is repeated and I'm paying attention ( at least a little bit more), soon enough sent to my starting mark -- using the door that separates me and Callum to take a few deeps breath before the inevitable happens and the director calls,

" Action."

I exit the bedroom, placing my bag on my shoulder. I can tell that Callum notices me, and like in the script I look up and clock him, there's an immediate clouding of my eyes that's both my own feelings bleeding into those of the character.

he comes forward " where are you going?" he asks, his voice flurries with panic but it's not his voice. They're not his emotions, which hurts me even more.

My head shakes " I'm going home Harry-" I begin to move past. But like in the script he moves to block my passage and like in the script I roll my eyes ( but out of character I avoid his gaze that sits steady on me) .

" look if this is about Rochelle-" he begins, as I contort my face into annoyance as I look at him.

" no this isn't about Rochelle Harry!" I raise my voice, " this is about the fact we've spent the whole summer pretending that this works when it obviously doesn't."

I stare at him and feel the pain of those six nights stab into my chest, those sleepless nights where all I've wanted to do is go and talk to him. When I've made it to his door but haven't been able to knock on it, when I rarely catch his gaze I try and plead for him to just talk to me. And he knows what I'm saying because he usually gets up and leaves.

He lets out a sad laugh " but it can-" his hand reach for me and I take them a little less hesitantly than my character should because I miss him.

Reeling me closer and I have to pretend I feel better just being in this proximity with him, forced or not.

" you and me, that little house on the top of the hill." his voice low as he whispers to me, and I try not to cry at the fact this intimacy between us is merely pretend " me and you Ol-Amelia!"

It's a slip of the tongue that only we catch, as I push away from him, he's barely visible through my tears, " I am here because of your parents, because they hired me meaning I belong to them and by extension I belong to you."

Head tilts " until you get bored with me and go back to the real world of heiresses that you live in and I'm merely that staff member you had a fling with that summer in Italy."

I go to move past, once again like in the script I'm stopped from doing so.

" tell me that you don't love me Amelia." his fingers wrap around my wrist, enabling me from moving further as I whip my face around.

Brows furrowed " why does it matter? You're leaving back to your stupid bel air mansion and I'm going back to my studio in London." I'm angry as I look at him in the eye, letting him know that it's olly that's angry, not Amelia.

I shake my head " it's too late for us Harry." I hum, and notice the flicker of genuine emotion that slips from his grasp when I say it. Those words that haunt me, when he told me I was too late, that our time had passed.

He steps closer, " don't say that-" head shaking as I stare at him, and those beautiful eyes of his.

As I stare into the things I love about him but the things I despise also. I stare into the eyes of the man I think I've been in love with since the day I met but am only just finding out about it.

My head shakes " I'm moving on, so should you." I tell him — and he stares at me, and I can't tell it's actually him until the director calls for cut and he still holds onto me. Looking at me with that same look in his eyes, with what emotion? I'm not quite sure. But it's real, and it's him.

" that's a wrap everyone!" It's the chorus of cheers that follow that break us apart from one another. I notice watching eyes as I turn around and join in with the clapping from the crew and cast members who have lingered until the end of the day.

I smile as I notice Chiara run over to me, engulfing her in a hug " we did it!" she chuckles and I just laugh.

My eyes cling to my co-star who moves himself off of the set, as he merely nods at those who congratulate him. Turning to meet my eyes one final time, a soft nod bobs his head before he's gone too.

Maybe forever. maybe another year. Who knows? because I don't.

AUTHORS NOTE.

one last chapter of the first act, what are we guessing is happening?

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