Page 175 of Less
Rain mixes with them.
“Ever since we met, I've watched you get everything!”
“I didn't—”
“All the best roles! The best jobs! The interviews! The fans!”
Spit is flying from her mouth, and her bloodshot eyes look crazed and unfocused as she screams the last, “And now him!”
My stomach drops.
“Less?”
She laughs bitterly.
“Oh yes. Alessio Figueroa.”
Her expression twists.
“Bodyguard to the stars.”
I swallow.
Why is she talking about Less?
“He never even looked at me.”
What?
Oh no.
It’s true, I’d confided in her about him.
Girl talk—you know?
But maybe she took it wrong. Maybe she—oh God.
I don’t even want to consider that while I was sharing my secrets, Brille was plotting all this time.
“Brielle, I told you about my past as a friend. How could you—”
“You don't deserve him!”
The words explode from her.
“Do you know what it felt like watching him look at you? Watching him worship you? Watching him carry your tea and your stupid blanket and stare at you like you're some goddess?”
My heart hurts.
Not for me.
For her.
Because somewhere along the way, this woman became consumed by bitterness.
By loneliness.
By jealousy.
