Chapter 1

1

MAZEY

I can’t believe this is the place, Mazey Snow thought to herself as she stepped into the hotel room, her breath catching in her throat. The room was modern and sleek with a wall of windows that looked out over the sprawling hills and jagged cliffs of Phoenix Ridge. Phoenix Ridge—she hadn’t heard of it before landing the job, but now, standing here, she had to admit it was beautiful in an eerie, quiet way. The type of beauty that felt like it was hiding something. Majestic yet haunting, a perfect setting for the show she'd signed on to.

Her fingers traced along the edge of the desk as she walked through the room, still taking it all in. The cool air from the vent hit her skin, reminding her just how far she'd come. There was a lot riding on this, more than just another paycheck. This was the job she’d been waiting for, the one where she could finally show her authentic self without feeling like she had to bend to fit someone else’s expectations. Edge of the Abyss. What a name for a show, she thought, letting out a small chuckle. It was fitting, though. Everything about this job felt like standing at the edge of something. Whether it was her career or her personal life, she didn’t quite know.

Mazey set her suitcase on the bed, slowly unzipping it as she thought about the weeks ahead. The people she'd meet, the work she'd do. This was her big shot, and she wasn't about to waste it. But, as excited as she was, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease curling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t nerves, at least not in the way she was used to. It was something deeper, something unfamiliar that made her want to pull the curtains closed and lock herself away. Maybe it was the place. Or maybe it was the pressure she had put on herself to finally be the person she’d always wanted to be, without hiding, without holding back.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, absentmindedly scrolling through emails and social media as if looking for some sort of distraction, something to calm her racing thoughts. Everyone who knew her would say she was lucky. She had been working in television, chasing her dream, getting to travel to places like this. And she was. She knew that. But what no one saw was how exhausting it was to constantly pretend and shape herself into whatever version of Mazey Snow they wanted her to be.

Not this time. This time, she would be herself. All of herself. No more holding back, no more second-guessing if she was too loud, too much. The show’s producers had told her they wanted someone with a fresh voice, someone who would bring something different to the table, and she planned to give them exactly that. Edge of the Abyss was going to be her moment, her chance to stop living on the edges of her own life and start diving in, consequences be damned.

The suitcase lay open on the bed, her clothes folded neatly, but she couldn’t bring herself to unpack yet. Instead, she wandered over to the window, pushing back the sheer curtains and staring out at the rolling hills that disappeared into the distance. A part of her felt connected to this place already, as if Phoenix Ridge was a crossroads where she might finally decide which direction her life would go.

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange-pink glow over the landscape. The shadows stretched longer, and for a moment, everything seemed still, too still. Mazey’s hand rested on the window, and she felt the glass cool beneath her palm. She’d made a promise to herself to embrace this opportunity fully, but standing here now, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of what that truly meant.

Taking a deep breath, she turned away from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. There was no turning back now. Phoenix Ridge was the kind of place where people found something they didn’t know they were searching for, whether it was success, truth, or something else entirely. And she had the feeling that, by the end of it all, she’d find exactly what she’d been running from for so long: herself.

Mazey ran a hand through her hair, eyes drifting to the pile of clothes in her suitcase. There was no rush. She had time. The rest of the crew would arrive in the morning, and from there, it would be a whirlwind of filming, scripts, and long nights. But for now, tonight, she had Phoenix Ridge all to herself. She smiled, the tension in her shoulders loosening just a little. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something better.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with an unfamiliar number, and she swiped to answer. Must be someone from the show.

“Hello!” she greeted, her voice bright and charismatic.

“Ms. Snow. The director wants you to come check out the filming spot,” came the reply, curt and efficient.

“Oh, really? Okay, I’ll get ready. Could you tell the makeup artist to come to my room?”

“Of course, Ms. Snow. She’s on her way.”

Mazey hung up and glanced at the outfit her stylist had laid out. Sporty yet chic, exactly what was expected of her. She sighed as she slipped into the ensemble, the fabric cool against her skin. Every detail had been thought out for her, down to the accessories. She always had to look perfect, polished, and effortlessly chic, no matter how she actually felt. There was no room for a bad day. Bad days meant bad press, and the media loved to pounce on the tiniest flaw in her image. Exhausting. But it was part of the job, one she’d come to accept.

Just as she finished adjusting her clothes, there was a knock at the door. The makeup artist had arrived.

Mazey opened the door and was greeted by a young woman clutching a large black makeup case. “It’s such a pleasure to be working with you,” the artist gushed, her face lighting up. “Mazey Snow, I can’t believe it! I’ve watched all your movies since you were just a teenager. You were such an inspiration. I thought you were the coolest.”

Mazey flashed a warm smile, her tone gracious as always. “You’re so kind. Thank you so much. Honestly, it’s all thanks to the amazing production teams and the people I work with. I’d be nothing without all of you.”

“Oh my god, you’re even kinder than you seem in interviews. You just always come across so funny and laid back. I remember watching this interview you did on?—”

Mazey listened, or at least appeared to. She’d gotten good at that over the years, smiling and nodding at all the right moments while her mind drifted elsewhere. There’s a role to play, even off-screen, she reminded herself. It wasn’t that she disliked the admiration or the praise. But it all felt routine, rehearsed. Just another part of the performance.

As the artist continued talking, Mazey’s mind slipped into preparation mode. She was thinking about the scene, about the character she needed to embody today. She could hear the artist’s voice in the background but wasn't fully present. That was her talent. She could make it seem like she was listening, even while a million other things swirled in her head.

Suddenly, the artist asked a question that pulled Mazey back to the moment.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”

“Oh, I was just asking if you wanted your hair up or down.”

Mazey tilted her head slightly, considering the image she wanted to project. “I think up would be most fitting, don’t you?”

“I totally agree,” the artist replied with a smile.

A few minutes later, the artist swept Mazey’s hair into an elegant, yet casual updo. When she was done, Mazey glanced at her reflection. She looked flawless, everything in place, every detail perfect. She felt a flicker of relief that she wasn’t the one responsible for making herself look this way. One less thing to worry about , she thought. It was a strange comfort knowing that if anything was off, there was someone else to blame. That tiny bit of pressure lifted made it all a little more bearable.

“Thank you so much,” Mazey said, standing up from the chair. “Do you want to walk to the set together?”

“Really? Wow, yes! Thank you!”

“Great. Let’s go.”

They left the hotel room, stepping into the cool afternoon air. The makeup artist had grown quieter now, her earlier excitement tempered by the seriousness of Mazey’s role. That silence was welcome. It gave Mazey the mental space she needed to slip fully into character. Focus, she reminded herself. Get into the zone.

They made their way to the waiting car, a sleek black SUV that was meant to take Mazey to the filming location. The driver opened the door for them, and Mazey and the makeup artist slid into the back seat. The door closed with a soft click, and the driver nodded at her through the rearview mirror once he got back in his chair.

“Ready?” he asked.

Mazey nodded. “Let’s go.”

As the car pulled out of the hotel parking lot, the scent of pine and the promise of distant rain filled the air outside. The sprawling beauty of Phoenix Ridge stretched out before them, with its rolling hills and jagged cliffs. But Mazey hardly noticed. Her mind was elsewhere, already running through the lines she needed to deliver, the expressions she needed to perfect.

The car glided smoothly along the winding roads, the hum of the engine a low, constant sound beneath the whirr of her thoughts. She stared out the window but didn’t really see anything; it was all a blur. Get into the zone, she reminded herself again. No distractions.

The road narrowed as they left the main highway, now winding up through the hills. The higher they climbed, the more the landscape seemed to loom around them, as if the mountains themselves were watching. A part of her registered how cinematic it all was, the perfect backdrop for a dramatic scene. But she didn’t let herself get distracted by the beauty of the view. This wasn’t a vacation. This was work.

She took a deep breath, her fingers tapping lightly on her knee as she reviewed the scene in her head again. She had to be on today; there was no room for mistakes. This was her shot to show the producers that she could be more than just the bubbly, marketable face they’d seen in the past. She needed them to see her depth and range. The part of herself she rarely got to show.

Mazey glanced at the makeup artist sitting beside her, gazing out the window, hands folded in her lap, blissfully unaware of the pressure Mazey was under. It wasn’t personal, but Mazey couldn’t afford to be personal right now. Not when so much was riding on her ability to nail this scene.

They rounded another bend in the road, and suddenly, the cliff came into view. The car slowed as they neared the edge, and Mazey caught a glimpse of the jagged drop-off just ahead. The driver parked the car and turned off the engine.

“We’re here,” he said.

Mazey stepped out of the SUV, the cool breeze immediately hitting her face. She walked toward the edge of the cliff, her heels clicking softly against the uneven ground. The view was stunning, miles of untouched wilderness, stretching out as far as the eye could see. The ocean below crashed against the rocks, a distant roar that was somehow both calming and overwhelming.

But Mazey wasn’t here to admire the scenery. She had a job to do.

The director was already heading toward her, clipboard in hand, a focused expression on his face. As the crew set up behind him, cameras and equipment scattered across the uneven ground, Mazey’s heartbeat quickened. Something about the atmosphere felt heavier than usual.

The director stopped in front of her, barely glancing up from his clipboard. “Mazey, we’re going to need you to climb down the cliff for this shot.”

“This is the part where I’m rescuing someone hanging off the cliff, right?” she said.

“Yeah.” He nodded, flipping through his notes. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you in a safety harness. We’ve got stunt coordinators here, and everything is set up. If you follow the instructions, you’ll be safe. No issues. Once you’re all set up, we’ll send the actor you’re meant to save.”

Mazey glanced over the edge, the vast drop below now seeming even more daunting. The ocean waves crashed against the rocks far beneath them, the abyss stretching out endlessly. She could feel the ground almost pulling her toward it, the height making her legs feel shaky.

“You’re going to be descending about twenty feet,” the director continued, oblivious to her growing nerves. “We’ll be capturing the whole scene from the top. You’ll look out over the edge, take a deep breath, and start your descent. Cameras will follow your every move. We need to capture that raw emotion as you climb down.”

Mazey tried to keep her voice steady, but the nerves had crept in. “And you’re sure the harness is…safe?”

He finally looked up, meeting her eyes. “Mazey, you’ll be perfectly fine. We’ve done this dozens of times with other actors. As long as you follow the instructions, there’s no danger. The crew will be right here the whole time. You’ll have a safety team watching every move.”

She nodded, though her throat felt dry. She didn’t want to come off as scared, but the thought of stepping off the cliff’s edge, even with safety gear, was terrifying. She’d done plenty of risky scenes before, but this was different. This wasn’t a controlled set with walls around her; it was nature. Unpredictable. Dangerous.

The wind was stronger here, tugging at her clothes and hair, as if reminding her of the very real forces she’d be contending with once she started her descent. The makeup artist adjusted a few strands of her hair that had fallen loose from her updo, but Mazey barely noticed. Her eyes remained fixed on the edge of the cliff, the sheer drop making her palms sweat.

The director, sensing her hesitation, softened his tone. “Look, I know it’s nerve-wracking, but I promise, you’re going to crush this. And once you nail it, this scene is going to look incredible. It’ll be one of the highlights of the show. Just trust the team, trust the gear, and focus on your performance.”

She nodded again, trying to internalize his words. It was easier said than done when all she could picture was the endless drop below, but this was her job. The stakes were high, and she knew what this role could do for her career. This was her chance to show more than just her carefully curated exterior. This was her opportunity to prove she could handle intense, dramatic moments, even if they involved literal cliffs.

The safety crew arrived, walking her through the process of getting strapped into the harness. She listened intently, trying to push past the fear and absorb the instructions. They fastened the straps around her waist and shoulders, tightening everything until it felt secure. The metal clips jingled as they attached the safety line that would prevent her from falling.

“Okay, Mazey, we’re going to start with you at the edge, looking down,” one of the crew members explained, checking the equipment one final time. “Take it slow, trust your gear, and remember, don’t look back up. Just keep your eyes forward or down at your next foothold.”

Mazey took a deep breath, nodding. She approached the cliff’s edge, her heart pounding. The wind whipped against her as she stepped closer to the drop. The sheer height made her feel weightless, as if any wrong step could send her over.

She planted her feet just at the edge, toes peeking over the abyss, and looked down. Her pulse quickened as the reality of the task set in. Twenty feet didn’t sound like much when they explained it, but staring into the void below made it feel like an eternity.

The director’s voice echoed behind her. “Alright, Mazey, we’re rolling. Take your time, and show us that fear, that hesitation before you go for it. And when you’re ready, start the climb.”

Mazey took another deep breath, her knuckles white as she gripped the harness’s rope. This was it. No turning back. She forced her mind to settle, to focus only on the moment, the camera, and the performance she had to give.

One step at a time, she told herself. You’ve got this.

Mazey inched her way down the cliff, her heart racing at first, but after a few careful steps, she started to feel secure. The harness was tight, the rope sturdy. The nerves that had been gnawing at her earlier began to fade. She was in the role now, her body moving with newfound confidence. This wasn’t so bad, after all.

With a smirk, she glanced over her shoulder at the crew below. “This all you got?” she quipped, barely breaking a sweat. Easy.

“Alright, Mazey, launch off the wall a little harder!” the director’s voice rang out, cutting through the wind.

She could hear the stunt team murmuring behind him, their tone urgent. They were trying to tell him something about it not being safe, but she wasn’t about to back down now. The adrenaline was kicking in, and she could already feel the shot coming together in her mind.

She waved a hand dismissively, her voice ringing with bravado. “Don’t worry, everyone! I’ll do it! No big deal!”

Before anyone could object, she pushed off the wall with more force, sending herself flying out a little farther than before. The wind whipped around her, and for a split second, she felt like she was flying. Then, with a hard thud, she hit the wall again, her fingers gripping the rock like she was born to it.

She grinned as she clung to the cliffside, her chest heaving. See, I’m fine. I can do anything, she thought. “Told you!” she called back over her shoulder.

That’s when she heard it. A sharp snap echoed through the air, followed by the chilling clink of metal against rock. Her stomach dropped as she realized what it was. The latch securing her to the safety line had broken. She glanced down, watching in horror as her lifeline slid, uselessly, down the cliff.

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered under her breath, her hands clenching the rock. The safety line was gone, and all that was holding her now was her own strength. The cliff stretched endlessly below her, the waves crashing far beneath her feet. No safety net, no crew to save me now.

For a moment, her mind raced. Should she scream? Call for help? Her arms were starting to burn already, her grip slipping slightly with every passing second. The reality of the situation settled in: she was dangling from a cliff with nothing but her own muscles keeping her alive.

But even in the face of danger, Mazey couldn’t help the snarky voice in her head. Is this really worth it? Risking my life for a shot? This better win an award. She tried to suppress the panicked laughter bubbling up inside her.

Her breaths came faster now, but she forced herself to focus. Okay, think. You’re not dead yet. She glanced around, looking for the next foothold, the next crevice she could cling to. The director’s voice was faint now, the crew still unaware of how serious the situation had gotten.

With a shaky inhale, she shifted her weight, testing her footing on the next ledge. Her palms were slick with sweat, but she didn’t have time to hesitate. Her strength was fading fast.

“Just another day at the office,” she muttered under her breath, a weak grin pulling at her lips. The absurdity of it all was almost funny if it wasn’t so terrifying. Don’t look down, Mazey.

She reached out, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the rock above her. Every movement had to be calculated, precise. One wrong move, and it was a long way down. But she wasn’t about to let that happen. Not here. Not now.

“Just hold on, Mazey! We’ve called for help, and they’ll be here soon. Try to conserve your energy as much as possible, okay?”

Easier said than done, she thought, her muscles burning with every second that passed. But what choice did she have? Give in? Not a chance. As the adrenaline surged through her, she tightened her grip on the rock, pushing away the panic threatening to overwhelm her. She had faced countless challenges before. This was just another hurdle, and she wasn’t about to back down now.

Mazey’s determination solidified. She wouldn’t just hang there; she’d fight her way back.

With a deep breath, she prepared herself for whatever came next, ready to take on the world, one heartbeat at a time.