TW: This Chapter contains references to/and substance absue, consumption of alcohol and mild swearing. Reader discretion is advised.

EVELYN

I walked out of the bathroom, my hair fixed, my skin flushed, my lips shining, the flask in the bin and my throat burning from the alcohol. I stumbled a little bit and blamed the shoes, not my drunk form. I remembered then that I was in the bathroom of the lobby and now I needed to head to the auditorium for the awards. 

I followed the path that I'd used to go to bathrooms to go back to the auditorium where the ceremony was taking place. I saw most of the guests entering back in and took that as my cue to enter back. I kept my mouth shut, offering only nods and polite smiles. Couldn’t let anyone know I was drunk, could I?

I entered back in and took my seats somewhere in the first few rows next to Kevin in his dazzling white suit. 

“Pass me a pill, no, sorry, mint” I whispered, covering my mouth

“Evelyn, I told you to throw it away…” He said, passing me a mint mixed of the colours red and yellow, small and pungent. Orange flavoured. Disgusting.

“Throw what away?” I smirked, popping the mint into my mouth, looking at him. “You know rules are meant to be broken.”

“Promises aren’t.” He said, turning away to look at the stage, the ceremony had begun and the announcer was back on stage. 

I felt a strange twist in my gut. My heart told me it was guilt and pain. My heart told me it was drugs and alcohol. Or maybe just nerves. I told myself it was nerves - that was easier.

I looked away as the announcer started talking into the mic again, and reached for Kevin’s hand. He pulled away. He was hurt. I’d reached for his hand a few more times until he finally gave in, holding me gently and rubbing his thumb over mine. I smiled. Internally.

“Now, we’d like to announce the nominees…”

I looked around to see if I could spot the director nearby. Had he won? “...Eniola Adebayo, in Can’t Keep Up”

I managed to spot the director sitting a few seats ahead, in a white suit similar to Kevin’s, only his was more ivory in colour. He must’ve sensed me staring at him and turned around to face me.

“...Janise Anderson, in Pretty Things”

The director offered me a wide grin, though the only thing I noticed was the wine stain against his suit. He could never handle wearing designer pieces. The nicest thing I could think of doing was offering him a nod and looking away. Can’t blame a drunk girl for not being sober.

“...Evelyn James, in Trigger Warning”

My head snapped up. Hold the fuck on. Did he just say my name? Wait, I thought we hadn’t submitted an application for our film? I looked back at the director still grinning at me. Oh that smug-. I was anything but sober right now, and I was not having this bullshit. 

Suddenly, I was the one mad at Kevin, not the other way around.

“Eve, babe, I wanted to tell you earlier but… I didn’t know how you’d take it.”

I pulled my hand away from his. None of this made sense. It would, soon. It had to.

“How I’d have taken it? I would’ve taken it perfectly, wonderfully. How could you not tell me something so important?”

“I didn’t know what you’d do if I told you. Probably throw another party, get on a few pills again, drink a little more. Who knows what you would’ve done.”

Or who. I filled the words in myself. He could never bring himself to say it.

 “I would’ve shown up like any normal person sitting in this room.”

“Getting nominated for the Oscars shouldn’t be your reason to be like the rest of us here.”

“...for Best Actress in a Leading Role, goes to…”

“I don’t care what you think I’m gonna do, Callaway. You should’ve told me. It’s my name.”

“You have a phone, a PR manager, you have friends. You could’ve asked any of them, couldn’t you? Yet you’re alw-”

I felt the alcohol and drugs getting to me, hitting me all at once. Any normal day I would have been thrilled, basking in the feeling of it all hitting me. But today was anything but normal. Today I wanted to throw up. I wanted to dig up a hole and bury myself in it.

“No, Kevin, you don-”

“Evelyn James.”

The room went quiet enough to hear my own pulse. The only thing I could hear was my heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Thump.

Then came a loud roar of applause. I looked up at the announcer again, making sure he said my name right. Evelyn James. Evelyn Ruth Miller-James. Eve.

Gold. Everything was draped in gold.

I let out a sigh as I stood up; it was just me, my black dress, and a room drowning in gold. I took a step forward, then another, then a few more and soon enough I was on the stairs, headed to grab gold. It was strange, I couldn’t feel anything.

There was a ringing in my ears. A beep. A buzz. Yes, a buzz. The lights were too bright and there were too many people. Too many humans, too many faces, too many smiles. Fake smiles. Too many, all at once, yet nothing at all-

I walked over towards the announcer and took the gold thing. The floor was moving underneath me, and felt like I was running with weights on my feet.

I was too high up from the ground. I couldn’t see anything, yet I could tell there were too many people watching me. Eyeing me. Scrutinising my every move. They were all staring at me, looking at the thing in my hands. They felt jealousy brimming in their hearts and minds, bubbling and overflowing-

I grasped the mic in my hands, my hands shivering and shaking. My eyes darted around for something calm and comforting, until they landed on a pair of olive eyes, confused, scared, and so excited.

They didn’t think I deserved this. They wanted it, all for themselves. Because they were greedy, selfish, and absolute devils.

“Th-thank you, every person, one who…who helped me- th-thank you, Kevin and uhm…director and…and I-”

I. Couldn’t. Breathe.

The microphone slipped from my hands and yet, I hadn’t heard it fall. I looked at Olive Eyes once more. She was holding a camera this time. Flash. The room tilted more and more and more, and once again, I felt the fresh burn of alcohol in my throat. My body dropped to the floor, the Oscar still in my palms, slowly slipping out too.

What could an unconscious person do with gold? Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.