Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 619(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
“That doesn’t stop people.” Brendan rested a hand on the edge of Cillian’s seat. “For every person out there who loves you there’ll be one who hates you, Cillian. The thing is…neither of those people actually know who you are.”
Cillian couldn’t resist the comfort of that hand; he slipped his fingers into Brendan’s. “It just feels like…I have no control over who people say I am.”
“You don’t,” Brendan said. “That’s always been true. Social media just makes it happen on a larger scale, and forces us to see it instead of people talking about us behind our backs where we almost never know.” His fingers curled warmly in Cillian’s. “The best thing to do is to learn not to care. To be secure in who you are. And remember that you know yourself better than anyone else. For people who watch you from afar…you’re just playing a character.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like that feeling, that…there’s this version of me that exists completely independent of anything I might say or do. It…I…I almost feel…violated.”
“…yeah,” Brendan said softly. “That happens.”
“…does it ever get any better?” Cillian asked, and looked down at their interlaced fingers. “This feeling that…who you are has been taken away from you. A clay self-portrait you’d only half-finished sculpting, and then someone takes it from you and remakes it into what they want you to be, then thrust it at you and tell you, ‘this is you,’ when you don’t recognize it at all.”
“The situation doesn’t get any better, no. Maybe worse, the more popularity and audience recognition you gain. But the feeling?” A faint, reassuring smile played about Brendan’s lips as he glanced at Cillian again. “Yes. That gets better. Because you learn to recognize yourself no matter what’s painted on the mirror, and learn to hold true to that.”
“I hope I can do that one day. Because right now…I’m…I’m a little afraid of what I’m stepping into.”
“It’s a hard industry. The whole world is watching, waiting for you to fall.”
“…and falling’s inevitable, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
Cillian frowned. “So what do I do, then?”
“Be you. Be who you are, and hold on to who you are, and love who you are, so when you laugh at your own fall…the world laughs with you, and loves you more for it. Just remember that if you hurt someone when you fail, make right. Then do better.” Brendan transferred their clasped hands to his own lap, keeping Cillian’s hand trapped against the warmth of his thigh. “Just…be human, Cillian. And don’t try to fit some image of how you think an actor should behave.”
“But…you do,” he pointed out, cocking his head, watching the way the wind fingered Brendan’s hair back lovingly, separating out that white streak from the rest. “You’ve got this whole like…black and white detective noir thing going on. All swagger and a knowing, sexy smirk and gunsight eyes. This whole intimidating aura. You can’t tell me you didn’t cultivate that.”
“I…” Brendan let out a slightly breathless laugh, eyes widening. “Cillian, I’m just being myself. Who I am just happened to market well.”
…this fucking oblivious dork.
“You really don’t know the effect you have on people, do you?”
“Apparently not,” Brendan replied dryly. “I don’t really pay attention to what people say abut me. And I’m not fond of watching my own films other than to identify any technical errors in my performance.” His smile was almost embarrassed, tugging at full lips to give his stern face a boyish cast. “I’m not a people person, Cillian. So no. I don’t really know.”
“It’s…” Cillian searched for words. “Awe. That’s the only word I can think of for it. You walk into a room and no matter how quiet you are, instantly everyone’s looking at you. Hypnotized by you. You’re completely overbearing, smothering any space you’re in, but you do it in a way that no one wants to bother breathing anyway. They don’t need to, as long as they have you.” Cillian smiled to himself, ducking his head, and wondered…was he describing how other people felt around Brendan? Or himself? “You’re harsh. But people still look up to you. They see you, and they see something to aspire to.”
Brendan cleared his throat a little too forcefully. “…flattery doesn’t work on me.”
And when Cillian peeked at him…
Maybe it was a little warm out, as the morning light intensified.
But he could’ve sworn Brendan’s deep golden face was a little redder than before.
“You’re blushing,” Cillian teased, a slow smile growing across his lips. “Is the Great Stoic blushing?” He poked his free hand against Brendan’s arm. “C’mon, Big Daddy Grump. Look at me.”
“Call me ‘Daddy’ one more time and you will regret it,” Brendan growled. “And I have to keep my eyes on the road, dammit. We’ll miss our turn. Behave yourself. Go back to sleep.”