It’s the third Wednesday of the year, everyone! It’s been a crazy few days, hasn’t it? I’m still in denial that Trump is now our president. Ironically, my depression has also started to hardcore kick in. I don’t know if there’s some logical correlation or if it’s pure coincidence, but I just thought that was interesting. I was this way after the election, too…
Anyways, welcome to another #WritingWednesday. Although I may be on a Wattpad break, I thought I’d come here and give you your weekly dose of my writing since I already missed a week in the past.
Today’s post comes from Betrayed and it’s the start of Chapter 8, which is in Jason’s POV. Since Marquilla dumped him, he’s been down in the dumps (haha!) and “hibernating,” but now he’s staying at the Goodrem girls’ place so nobody has to worry about him. What’s he been up to since then? Well, here’s a little sneak peek!
It’s been a couple of weeks since I moved into the Goodrem residence and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get Marquilla out of my head. It’s like that Kylie Minogue song—I just can’t get you out of my head, boy it’s more than I dare to think about. I know I shouldn’t think about her because those thoughts will make me sad, but I can’t help it. I MISS HER. God, do I fucking miss her!
The girls have been trying their best to lift my spirits by keeping me company. It’s mostly been Lorraine when she’s not at work or classes since this is her house, and Sofia and Audrey have started working again. You can only stay home for so long when you’re in the industry.
Regardless of everyone’s busy schedules, I’ve never been alone. I think they’re afraid of me doing something drastic. I don’t need a babysitter, yet that’s what it seems like I have. Even if someone isn’t physically with me, someone calls in every hour for a checkup.
I finally broke my social media silence yesterday. The reception from my fans has been phenomenal! I don’t think anyone would care that I left because it’s me, but I was wrong. Immediately after I sent out that tweet, the love and responses flooded in at an overwhelming rate. I couldn’t believe how concerned they were about my well-being until I read responses like “You’re alive!” and “Everyone thought you hurt yourself. We were scared to death for you.” It goes to show that people appreciate you more than you think. You just have to trust others to see it.
What’s bothering me right now is Lindsay. I get why nobody will so much as utter Marquilla’s name, but Lindsay’s seems just as taboo as hers. I don’t understand! Last time I spoke to Lindsay was the day Marquilla dumped me; things didn’t end too well between us.
I’ve asked the girls to at least tell me more about Lindsay, Paris, and that guy on her Instagram, but they won’t tell me. I don’t have Lindsay’s number anymore because I stupidly deleted her new one, so I can’t even ask her about it! It’s strange; nothing bad happened between us.
The only sense of comfort—it’s more like an interest, but oh well—is that royal purple titled Vanilla Queens. I swear I’ve heard that phrase before, but I don’t exactly remember where. Needless to say, it’s been my guilty pleasure. It’s not the manliest tale since there’s plenty of fictional gossip in it, but I find it interesting. I know I shouldn’t have so much as touched that binder, but it CALLED ME. I had to take the chance!
I don’t understand why they wouldn’t want me to read it. After scanning the shelf, I decided the binder is why Lorraine told me Lindsay’s bookshelf is of limits. There’s nothing in there that screams DO NOT READ. I mean, it’s just a work of fiction—a damn good one, too! She shouldn’t be hiding it in the sea of books on that shelf. What she’s written is very intriguing. I can definitely imagine it on the shelves of a major bookstore because I think it has that much potential.
“The vanilla image takes great care to uphold. One wrong association, and you can kiss that image goodbye. You’d have a difficult time picking yourself back up once you lose it. It’s a toxic image to attempt to keep in the world of celebrity. You could walk in on someone rolling a joint or be besties with a cokehead and not even know it! That’s why she’s constantly paranoid—she’s wary of EVERYONE around her.”
I read that paragraph last night and it just stuck with me. I know what Lindsay wrote is fiction, but it reminds me of Skylar and Marquilla. The parallels are uncanny—there’s no doubt the inspiration came from them. That doesn’t necessarily mean the book is about them. There are many people in the industry who are over-cautious about how they’re perceived. Paranoia is a common trait. Everyone has a certain image they want to keep, and they’ll do anything to make sure it stays that way.