Chapter Eleven

Bryony

Most Likely to Become Famous

I don t know why I was so worried about saving face in front of these people I haven t seen for ten years, because honestly, some of them are doing an absolutely terrible job of it.

Absolute amateur hour. It s laughable. Like, genuinely, laugh-out-loud ridiculous.

Because, I m sorry, do they honestly think they can straight-up contradict the things they ve put on social media? I cannot be the only one who did a digital stalk of old classmates before tonight - although, admittedly, mine was probably the most in-depth, since I had the list of everyone s names and emails to send out the evite for tonight and the whole yearbook presentation update project.

Do they really think they can get away with it?

I mean, I know I can t talk, but really . It s one thing to be - selective - with the truth, and imply certain things, but to tell barefaced lies? Like, we know you got engaged two years ago, we all congratulated you on Facebook, and we know you suddenly changed your profile pics to stop including them and changed your status to single . Don t pretend they just couldn t make it tonight. And you re just not climbing the corporate ladder at an unprecedented rate, are you, we can all see that your current job title on LinkedIn includes the word junior .

It s unstoppable, the urge to correct them, to point it out. Like Paul and his job at a failed start-up, or Tommy saying he runs a fitness company when he s a PT and not even actually working for himself (I ve seen the gym branding on his polo shirt in a selfie he posted on Instagram). Or worst of all, when Morgan was showing off about her boyfriend she met at the hospital, making out he was a doctor like she is when actually he s an accountant and they met when he came into A E with a skateboarding injury.

I don t know why she lied about it. An accountant who skateboards is arguably a much cooler story. And she even brought him along! Any of us could ask him and find out the truth.

I ignore the bright red flush creeping down Morgan s neck right now and smooth a hand over the leg of my jumpsuit. Some of the sequins have tilted out of place near my hip as I ve been wandering around.

Isn t he part of a group? Skateboarding, I mean.

Josh sneers. What, like a hobby? God. That s a bit childish, isn t it, Morg?

The look on her face says she thinks so too, which is a bit sad. I bet the boyfriend is definitely cooler than she is. Just because she resents having to become a doctor because that s the path her parents steered her down

I arch an eyebrow at Josh, though. Didn t you take up rollerblading during lockdown?

He baulks, and fidgets. Hassan starts laughing, joking around because he didn t know that, how sly of Josh to not tell him. Well, that s what he gets for using his old MSN handle on TikTok. Like I said: amateurs . He mutters, The girl I was with at the time got into it when it started going viral and stuff.

Hassan cracks up, gleeful. Mate, that s hilarious. Do you have videos of it? As if you took up rollerblading!

Morgan adds in a suddenly lofty tone, Yes, well, Alfie s part of a local community group and participates in competitions. It s all quite serious, actually.

Yeah, real daredevil on the half-pipe, I bet, Josh snipes.

He is, actually.

I smother my laugh and take a drink, rolling my eyes. They got themselves into this mess, really, but I fight the teacher-y urge to tell them to grow up already. Seriously, did they learn nothing after I had to call Elise out for her totally not -authentic Chanel bag she brought to school, and all the lies she tried to spin to explain why the lining didn t look the same in her cheap dupe as on the Chanel website? Clearly, everyone s gotten too comfortable without somebody around to call them on their bullshit.

I catch Hayden, on the edge of the group, frowning at me. His high forehead furrows underneath the messy spray of ginger hair, nose crinkling and pushing his wiry glasses further up. He looks at me like I m a particularly nasty equation and he s been called up to solve it in front of the class on the whiteboard.

There s a sort of accusatory edge to it, and if Hayden wasn t the kind to keep so much to himself, I d worry that he might have done as much research into people as I had, and knows all my secrets. My pulse picks up, sweat starting to slick the palms of my hands.

What? I ask him, careless and bold. Every bit as accusatory as the expression on his face.

Hayden s expression clears, but he ducks his head. Nothing. Sorry.

I stick around for another minute or so, listening to the boys bicker and Morgan trying to pretend she s not a judgemental snob about her boyfriend s hobby, but only so that I don t let Hayden put a chink in my carefully honed armour. As if I m going to let the most introverted, nerdiest kid in the year take me down. This kid used to go to Doctor Who conventions on the weekends, for crying out loud.

I count down the seconds, glad when my heart rate calms, and then move on to mingle with some other people. I notice Steph lurking near the drinks table with some of her old mates, looking unusually quiet and detached, but her fianc , Curtis, has his arm around her and she s tucked neatly, cosily, into his side; maybe she s just tired. She does have a lot on, between her nine-to-five and studying part time on top of that. I scan the room for Ashleigh, who s standing with

Oh, Jesus. She s with Freddie Loughton .

Hand on his bicep, laughing at something he s saying, standing with Freddie bloody Loughton. He tosses his heavily styled hair as I watch, looking like someone who loves himself a little too much. I m pretty sure he s got a long-term girlfriend, but - then again, this is Freddie, and there was definitely a point in the last couple of years where he was dating three girls at once, if his Instagram is anything to go by. Not to mention, I know from experience that he s just not worth the effort.

Should I tell her? I d think she needed saving if she didn t look like she was flirting right back and had him wrapped around her little finger.

Ah, it s fine. Let her have her fun. From what I hear, her recent relationships have been pretty short-lived and her current dating life is fairly non-existent - she s too career focused, or whatever. God knows she spent long enough at school being so highly strung that she deserves to let her hair down for a night. Indulge in who teenage her could have been.

Even if it is with a prat like Freddie Loughton.

I wander towards the tables to get a refill on my drink, if only to look like I m moving with purpose, and let my eyes skim around the room. It s funny to see old cliques re-forming: the A-level art girls have gravitated towards each other and every so often one of them will peel away to go flirt with somebody while the others watch and hide shrieks of laughter behind their hands; the rugby lads are laughing at some bawdy joke, all sprawled out on a pile of chairs near the stage, and some of the more serious kids from orchestra are in a close cluster by the balloon arch, eyes intent and gestures wide as they talk.

People call to me as I pass by, and a thrill runs through me at it.

My eyes snag on the poster of myself that s hiding my picture on the staff board and the excitement dies quickly. They wouldn t be half so excited to chat if they knew what a failure I ve become. What a sad, sorry state my life is in these days. They wouldn t be so interested in hearing stories about the times I ve cried myself to sleep or the heartbreak of moving home to my parents and accepting I d never be famous or well known or successful - a pain so deep and raw that it still confines me to the cocoon of my duvet some days even now.

Nobody wants to hear about that. Even I don t want to know about it.

It s better this way. Much, much better.

Standing alone at the edge of the hall with a fresh drink in hand, surveying everybody, I allow myself a little breather to wallow in the self-pity and reaffirm my plan to keep pretending. When I notice Hayden making his way towards me, I peel away and head for the group with Ryan and some of the lads, knowing he won t follow me there.

I don t think Hayden knows anything, but I do know he s smart enough to work it out, if I give him enough openings.

So, that s easy. I just won t do that.

Ashleigh seems to be happy to prove to people how well she s done for herself almost like it s to spite them for ever doubting her or looking down on her; I don t know if Hayden has a similar streak in him, these days, but I don t want to risk it.

I slip into the group just at the perfect moment. There s a lull in conversation and as people turn to murmur hellos at me, Ryan throws me that drop-dead lovely grin of his, which reaches his eyes and feels like its own kind of spotlight shining on me.

There she is! Woman of the hour! Helluva party, Bryony.

Please. I turn my head to flick my ponytail back over my shoulder. Like you d expect anything less. Don t you know who I am?

He laughs, and since I didn t greet him properly earlier - haven t actually so far at all, tonight - I step across the circle to give him a one-armed hug and kiss his cheek. Ryan s arm feels solid around me, his hand warm on my waist, and he draws back slowly. Purposefully. Lingering.

Hmm. That s interesting.

Always a pleasure to see you, Bryony, he says, with a wink that makes it very clear that he s flirting a bit.

Which, I mean, of course he is.

But still. I guess we haven t grown out of that, either.

Miss me? I tease, but the response is like a default setting. The slanted, closed-lipped smile I offer him is only because I m on autopilot. This is what my character would do and say, this is the role I ve taken on tonight, old habits drawn around me like a favourite dressing gown. Ryan and I were both pretty well liked and ran in the same circles together at school; we went to prom together and everything. We were never a Steph-and-Shaun kind of thing though. Beyond a few sloppy, drunk kisses at parties and casual flirting in the common room, we were only ever just friends. It was never anything serious .

It isn t now, either, but that doesn t mean it isn t still a bit of fun.

I couldn t have stuck having a boyfriend who wanted to share my spotlight, anyway. The whole power couple thing never appealed to me - I m too much of a one-woman show.

Absolutely, Ryan says, a bit loudly. A woman giggles behind him and his head ticks towards the sound, eyes darkening for a moment before he smiles again. He stands a little straighter, rearranging his limbs slightly - the roll of his shoulders, the shift of his weight from one leg to the other before a brief wince steals across his face and he thinks better of it. I remember his left leg was the injured one, and wonder if it s rude to ask about it.

Just as I m weighing up the question, he says, like he s announcing it to the whole group, Hear you re doing pretty bloody well for yourself these days, babe. Still doing theatre and that?

I take on roles in movies and TV, sometimes, too.

Oh, yeah? Anything we d have heard of?

Probably. I laugh and everybody follows suit. I m in a great position where I get to choose the projects that sound most interesting to me. It s totally enriching.

And also not technically a lie. Well, apart from the great position part.

I ve got a few things in the works, I add, which is also not exactly untrue. There s a movie coming out soon that I had a very, very tiny part in (so much so that I don t know if I ll even be in the final cut), but it was low budget and there hasn t been much fanfare about its upcoming release. And I ll be back on the circuit to pick up work as an extra soon, after term finishes in a few weeks.

Sweet, says Ryan. Reckon we all keep an eye out for you on the silver screen. Waiting to see your name in lights one day, or your face on the side of a bus.

My smile feels rigid, and it s like the words turn my bones to lead. I m overcome with the urge to sink into the floor and wrap my arms around my head, block out the party and disappear into the dark until sleep pulls me under. He conjures up the images from the dreams I used to cherish, which poison and plague me now.

If he weren t such a decent guy, I d think he was laughing at me.

I fight off the melancholy that threatens to choke me - I m playing a part. I am not that person. I am not me, I am her. My smile eases a little bit.

And, because I know this is my cue to respond, I say, One day. Just you wait.