AN: I'm not sure about this chapter… you like it? Thanks for the reviews and everything! 3! I like this chapter, but I'm not sure… you like it?

PS. I UPDATED CHAPTER 7. IF YOU HAD ANY QUESTIONS ON FLASHBACKS OR POV GO CHECK IT OUT PLZ!

Chapter 8

February 4th, 2006

CPOV

It had been years, I reminded myself. I let out a deep sigh, combing my fingers through my blonde curls. It was one of those afternoons. I was laying on my back, memories playing in my mind like a film on a loop. It was one of those afternoons. I could barely act those days, these times happening so consistently I could give my director a look and he would call cut in a moment. There was no use in wasting money on a day their main character wasn't in character. So they would leave me to my thoughts, not really caring what they were. Well, I had learned that was Hollywood, not the kindest of towns. Using showbiz as an excuse to be cruel and destroy dreams more than make them happen.

It had been years, I repeated again to myself. The words seeming so household, their meaning falling to zero. I sat up straight, placing my elbow on my knee and holding up my face with my palm. It was about five, so most people had already left the studio, not noticing that I was still in my dressing room with the door locked. But to my surprise, I heard a timid knock on my door, which began to creak open just far enough for a head to peak inside.

"Hey Chad," Portlyn whispered just loud enough for me to hear. I tried to smile, but as she walked inside, I can't keep my lips from curving down. She looked worried, which wasn't common. She joined me on the couch, trying to place the correct words together to form a sympathetic sentence. Finally deciding, she spoke such simple words.

"What wrong, Mackenzie?" I attempted to smile because that was just so typical of her, so typical of us. When words were a mystery, we would steal written ones from our lousy scripts. I shook my head, not pretending to act on a day like this.

"I don't know, Portlyn." She sighed, knowing she couldn't use her script this time.

"You have these off days too often. You have like a schedule of this and there has to be a reason for it. Look, I'm usually not one for caring, so feel very grateful," she told me, her smirk seeming playful. I run my hand through my hair merely annoyed that she picked this one time to care.

"Not even the director knows," I hinted.

"I won't tell a soul. Again, I don't usually keep gossip to myself, so be grateful." I rolled my eyes at "gossip." More like the best, juiciest Tween Weekly of all time. But in a strange way, I trusted her.

"Okay, fine," I decided to begin with. "It was about a year ago. No, that's not a good place to start. It was about fifteen years ago. Her name was Allison." Portlyn didn't expect the turn of events to lead to a girl. Even then I was a known player, well, or so the media said. It was my early years of fame, where I could try and keep it under control. And I did, for a while anyways. It was my early years of fame, the time where my promise was kept for the most part.

"We had been friends since I can remember. She was always so sunny and her attitude light. Anyway, we were best friends if you need a title for it. And even back then I had known I wanted to be an actor," I state, Portlyn listening closely. I sigh, pausing her a moment to chose just the right words.

"So one day, I get a letter that I was accepted for the part of Mackenzie after an audition. This was great news until I realized I only had a week to leave my world behind.

"And I regret not telling her. I really do, but I didn't have the guts to until nearly midnight the day before the plane left for Hollywood. And she didn't take it well, at first anyway. But she was happy for me, or so she would tell me." I didn't go on, just stared at Portlyn for a response. She sighed, taking in the newfound news.

"What happened after that? You still keep in touch, though, right?" she asked me. God, how I wished I could lie through my teeth and tell her yes, I just need help wording a love letter. But sadly, no I couldn't say that. I would have to say the truth, to my disliking.

"No, no we don't. I have her email and she had my phone number, but-" Portlyn cut me off right there.

"Then email her! You have her email, and then don't let yourself get all depressed and all. Just go and-" And I cut her off right back, my face getting red in anger.

"No, Portlyn you don't get it! She doesn't love me!" I yelled at her, standing up from my seat. Her jaw hung slightly at the sudden outburst, but closed after a bit of thought.

"Look, Chad. I can tell you love her and I don't know if she loved you back. But here's my advice," she began, standing up to meet me. Our eyes connected in contact, hers narrowing the slightest bit.

"Shoot," I pushed her. She let out a small breath and began her advice.

"Get over her, Chad."

"Excuse me?" I spoke in disbelief. She shook her head slightly.

"Get over her! It's been years, Chad! What if she doesn't love you? What if? You are a star now. We don't have time for normal people. We don't have time for romance. We don't have time for our Mackenzie to be taking days off to dream about something that won't happen," she spoke harshly, pointing to me at "Mackenzie," spitting out the now seeming horrid name.

"If I don't have her, you might not get a Mackenzie," I grimaced, turning around and heading to the door. She grabbed my arm, but in a brutal way that her long manicured nails dug into my flesh. I pulled away from her hurtful grasp in disgust.

"Then what are you going to do? She doesn't love you. You left her and if you went back all you'd end up with is seeing her with someone else. Because she's moved on. Why don't you? You can't leave us now. You'd be no one," she told me with the worst glare I had ever laid my eyes on. "She hates you, Chad Dylan Cooper." I shivered at the sound of my own name, it sounding so artificial. I shook my head, not believing her words. Not wanting to believe the words that formed who I was, or who I could pretend to be.

"She will never hate me."

~Present Day~

"Chad Dylan Cooper, I hate you," she mutters, taking my heart to the fire and throwing it into the embers, watching it melt into a gory liquid.