Then

"Andy," I say with surprise. I was about to step onto the lighted stage area where I'm filming a confessional about the attack when I heard someone call my name. I reverse course and pick my way in my high heels over cords and cables to meet him behind the cameras. A weird feeling of déjà vu spreads over me as I bend to hug him.

"Julia. God, it's good to see you." His embrace brings a hint of spicy cologne competing with a layer of BO.

We pull back at the same time and survey each other.

Andy is dressed in a flannel button-down over a black T-shirt. Baggy jeans, the rectangular bulk of a phone in his front pocket. A pen hooked over his shirt pocket. He looks both put together and messy, like a puppy dog who got groomed and then rolled around in the yard. I, on the other hand, am fresh out of an hour-long session with hair and makeup, in silk cigarette pants and a one-shoulder sequin top that displays the bruising to my shoulder.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon!" I say with a smile that I hope reads as welcoming despite my unease. The Proposal is ultra-secretive during filming. No one is supposed to know what happens here...right?

Andy runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, neither was I. They called me about the, uh, incident. The attack." He shakes his head. "If I could've come last night..."

"I didn't realize they were involving you," I say lightly.

"Can I just take a moment to apologize to you, for what happened?"

"Please. It's not your fault."

"But I feel responsible, Julia. It's like I released this sweet bunny rabbit into a fucking den of wolves. This is the last thing I ever wanted to happen to you." Again, Andy runs a hand through his curly mop of hair, further disordering it. "Jesus. I'm still in shock."

"You know, I'm actually okay." I touch his arm, trying to recover the sense of calm I was feeling before his arrival, and transmit it to Andy as well. Not only is the attack behind me, but to my surprise, good things have come of it. Yes, it's horrible to be faced with my built-in limitations. But on the other side of it—though I can't pretend not to have heard some whispers of attention getter—the girls really do seem friendlier. Josh even came by this morning to check on me, and held my hand while we talked. I kept looking at his arrow tattoo and wondering if the attack might be shifting his heart's direction toward me. Maybe people can't open their hearts until vulnerability creates a connection point. I don't know. It's a lot to process, but I'd be a fool to ignore the silver lining.

"There he is!" comes a sharp, female voice. Andy and I both turn. Half a dozen people in suits are moving toward us like a dark school of fish.

"Viola," says Andy. He shakes hands with the petite woman leading the pack, then turns to me. "Julia, meet Viola, our head counsel at WekTech. The rest of these suckers are her goons." Light laughter moves through the remaining men and women as Viola extends a hand toward me.

"Hello, Julia." Her grip is cool and firm. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

All of a sudden I feel very frivolous in my sequined top and wedge heels.

"What's going on?" I say, hoping my bright smile conceals the spark of fear trying to ignite in my stomach.

"We're here to meet with the Proposal production team to discuss last night's unacceptable security breach and go over next steps," says Viola in a voice as manicured as her look.

"Next steps?"

Viola tilts her head. "As a Synth, your legal personhood is in question, so unfortunately, you can't file charges yourself. Therefore, the best route is for WekTech to file for criminal property damage. That woman deserves to spend time behind bars for what she did." The ultra-sincerity of her tone is sickly in its sweetness. "I know this may sound overwhelming. But, Julia, rest assured that WekTech will take care of everything for you. We presented a thorough list of security demands to Proposal execs. If production can't be amenable, we'll pull you from the show."

Wait—what?

But before I can respond, Viola smiles, says, "Shall we?" and leads her group away with an airy "Nice to meet you, Julia" tossed out like a final piece of candy from the lawyer parade.

"I'll be right behind you," Andy says to Viola as he gestures for her to go on.

For a second, alone again with Andy, I can hardly breathe, hardly gather my thoughts into words. I feel like a tornado just whipped through me.

Who am I kidding. True vulnerability isn't nice. It's awful. These people have the power to remove me from my very purpose. If they take me off the show—if I don't find love with Josh—

"What is happening?" I whisper.

"It might feel like we're going overboard, but this is serious, Julia," Andy says. "We didn't bring you here just to be assaulted. We can't let that happen again."

"It could've been any of us. She was just a crazy fan. Trust me, Andy. It's not going to happen again."

"We need to consider what's best for you."

"The show is my life. Josh is the future I want." I've never heard my own voice sound this way. Stretched taut. Pleading. "This is my chance at happiness, Andy. Don't I get a say?"

For a second there's something between us—something that feels dangerous, like a sleeping monster I've tapped on the shoulder. Then Andy exhales and rubs his face.

"Fuck. Of course you get a say, Julia. Look. Whatever the legal reality is for Synths, you're a person to me. A full person, okay? If you want to stay, you stay. I'll give my recommendations, but you call the shots."

The wave of relief is so powerful, my knees might buckle. Andy's on my side. He has my back.

"Thank you." I release a ragged breath. "I want to stay."

"Hey, this is all about you."

Then, Andy's off to join the meeting, and I'm back to the confessional. There's a quick light test. Someone powders my forehead and nose. As the crew does their thing, something Andy said pricks my mind like a burr. Just to be assaulted. I know what happened was awful. But the way he said it felt so...reductive. Like the attack was the main event of my life, and everything else, a mere footnote to those few seconds of violence.

I take a few deep breaths. The past twenty-four hours have been chaos. In this interview, I want to be self-possessed. Prove that even though the attacker hurt my body, she didn't destroy me. In fact, she doesn't define anything about me. I'm here to fall in love. I'm bigger than this, and my life is bigger than this, and I am moving on.

When I open my eyes, I'm ready. The producer signals that the cameras are rolling, then says, "Walk us through your first reaction when you were attacked."

I face the cameras and jump in. "It happened so fast. Like, one minute I'm enjoying a moment to myself, and the next moment, I'm on the ground."

I answer question after question. I talk about how since last night, the girls have really stepped up. I talk about how lucky I am to have such supportive people around me.

I close the interview by saying, "What happened, happened. It was outside of my control. But I can control the way I move forward. That's what I want to focus on."

I'm proud of myself, and I truly feel like the bigger person. Maybe this attack has proved that I can be rattled and recover. Beat down, then get back up. And isn't that a kind of strength?

When the producer calls cut and I stand to shake the sleepy tingles out of my left foot, there's another surprise waiting: Josh. Standing in the shadows behind the crew. Watching me with his arms crossed, in joggers and a T-shirt that does nothing to hide his ripped torso. The fabric clings to every muscle, and I find myself thinking of the kiss we shared.

I give him a cute wave, then walk toward him.

We meet just outside the hot circle of light that surrounds the stage. To my astonishment, he leans forward and kisses me on the lips. It's brief, just a peck, nothing like the heated exploration of the other night, but it still sends a waterfall of tingles down my neck.

I'm about to make a cheeky remark about wanting more where that came from when Josh turns. Someone is walking toward us—Andy. My stomach flip-flops; the timing couldn't be worse. Josh only recently learned I'm a Synth. How is he going to react when he realizes this is the man who designed me? Shit.

"So...that's, um, Andy. From WekTech," I say quickly.

Josh looks blank, then realization dawns.

"The company that—" he begins as I return a tight nod.

"You must be Josh LaSala," says Andy as he reaches us, swinging his arm forward to meet Josh's shake. "So pleased to finally meet you. I'm Andy Wekstein, Julia's—"

"I know who you are," says Josh in an easy tone, like he knew all along.

I'm ridiculously grateful Andy didn't finish his sentence—and that Josh is playing it so cool.

The two men are a study in contrasts. But beyond their many physical differences, Andy gives off the vibe of a kid playing dress-up in a grown man's body, whereas Josh fully owns every inch of his muscled height.

They shake hands a little too long. I notice Josh's flexed forearm...how hard are they pressing? When they fall back, they both start talking at once. Both stop. Josh chuckles.

Andy speaks. "I was just going to tell Julia, I'm headed out."

"The meeting—" I prompt.

"Taken care of," says Andy.

"Thank you," I say with a tension-releasing sigh.

"What meeting?" says Josh.

"Boring legal stuff," says Andy. I think he means to be friendly, but it sounds demeaning, like he's suggesting Josh wouldn't get it anyway.

"Just about the attack," I clarify.

Josh's eyes flicker between me and Andy, then settle on Andy.

"You don't have to worry about Julia." Josh's voice sounds deeper than usual. There's a gentle pressure at the small of my back. Josh's hand. Warm, solid. "I already told her last night, I'm not letting anything happen to her. I mean that."

Andy nods vigorously, like he's really absorbing this. "I'm glad you said that. Really glad, man. I just—" He lays a hand to his heart. "Violence against women. I don't have the stomach for it. You know? I feel pretty sick over this. And honestly, a little complicit."

I feel embarrassed at Andy's display of emotion, but Josh seems to take it in stride.

"She's with me now," he says in that same deep, steady tone, and even though I don't say anything in response, an answering thrill moves through me.

The producer cuts into our moment. "Could we get you back up here, Julia?"

I signal for her to wait.

"Good to see you, Andy," I say, leaning forward. Josh's hand remains on my back as I brush my cheek against Andy's in an air kiss.

Then Andy is off. I look at Josh and bite my thumb, wishing I could recover the moment we lost right after his quick kiss.

"I'd better get back up there," I say with regret.

"Wait." Josh leans in and whispers, "What do you say? You and me tomorrow? For the next one-on-one date?"

In all the chaos of the attack, the filming of Josh's dating decision got put off.

"Really?" I say, pulling back a little to look into his eyes.

He smiles, dimples deepening. "I really like you."

"Even after all this drama?"

"Especially since all this drama. The way you handle yourself is so...classy. And—" His breath smells like mint. Our faces are inches apart, his words only for me. "Is it weird that this proved to me you're, like, a real person?"

"Not weird at all," I say as joy blossoms in my stomach.

How wonderfully ironic that the attacker, who wanted to hurt me, ended up drawing Josh and me closer than ever. Now Josh can see that I'm not a cold machine, but a person who can bleed like him. Maybe I had to bleed, to earn his love. And right now the bruised shoulder and handful of scrapes seem like a small price to pay for this. For him.

I'm staying on the show.

Josh said, She's with me now.

I couldn't be happier.