the reality set

I step outside of my New York penthouse to the flashing lights of paparazzi. "Walker, how do you feel about your most recent role?" "How was Emma Myers to work with?" "Have you had any recent contact with Anabelle Hayes?"

 I flinch at her name.

 "Okay, thank you, that's enough." My sister smiles as we walk to our cab. 

Seven silent months had stretched between us, each one a stark reminder of Anabelle's words: move on. Seven months since my world had fractured.

"Hello? Walker? You there?" Lyla snaps her fingers in front of my face.

"Yeah, my bad. I zoned out for a moment," I mumbled, the weight of those seven months still clinging to my thoughts like a persistent shadow. 

I forced a weak smile, hoping it didn't betray the turmoil swirling beneath the surface. "So, uh, what were you saying?"

Lyla raises an eyebrow at me before continuing. "Ryan invited you to a premiere for his new movie. Mom said she wanted to take us shopping for it." I nodded for her to keep talking. "I was thinking blues for the colours. Thoughts?"

"I like blue." I agreed

"Good." She grinned before stepping out of the cab. 

"You coming?"

"Yep." I followed her into a small café near Central Park.

-----

My mom entered the sitting room, presenting five potential outfits for Lyla and me.

"Oh my God, they're beautiful! But I need that one," Lyla exclaimed, her finger already pointing at a midnight-blue dress featuring a sweetheart neckline.

"Hmm, that's lovely, but this one is practically shouting your name," I joked, holding up a mustard-yellow maxi dress with a boxy neckline. "Lyla? Lylaaaa?" I whispered playfully from behind the fabric.

"Hilarious, Walker," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"What? It brings out your...eyes?" I offered with a shrug.

"Lyla, that one is gorgeous. Go try it on, and we'll get it," Mom said, smiling encouragingly at my sister.

Mom then handed me the suits she had selected before heading off to speak with the cashier. Each suit was perfectly acceptable, but none truly captured my attention until I reached the final one.

Whoa.

It was a blue suit jacket paired with a black shirt and matching trousers. Ordinary enough. Yet, it was a near-perfect replica of the suit I had worn to Anabelle's graduation.

I had to have it.

"Oh, Walker, that suit is amazing. You should definitely get it," a voice broke through my thoughts. It was Haley, one of the saleswomen, her smile genuine.

"Thank you, Haley. I think I will." I offered a small, perhaps unconvincing, smile in her direction.

"Oh, good. You found one," Mom sighed, a hint of relief in her voice. "I think we're ready to check out," she told Haley.

"Okay, I'll help you over here," Haley replied, guiding my family toward the sales counter.

-----

Around nine, a knock echoed through my bedroom door.

"Come in," I called out, my mind still replaying the scene at the store.

The door creaked open, and Lyla entered, collapsing onto the edge of the bed. "Walk. Seriously? Out of all the suits, you had to pick that one?"

Lyla. She had been my anchor through the worst of it, the one constant when my world felt like it was crumbling. She knew that suit, knew its significance.

"I don't know," I admitted, running a hand roughly through my hair. "I just saw it, and... something happened. I had to have it."

Lyla sighed, a knowing look in her eyes. "I figured. And because you bought that suit, I thought you'd want to see this." She held up her phone.

Curiosity piqued, I leaned closer to read the screen.

Rumours say that both main actors of "The School Set" will be attending the premiere of Ryan Reynolds' new film on Tuesday evening...

Oh, no.

"It's probably just a rumour," Lyla offered, her voice laced with a forced optimism.

"Yeah, probably..." I trailed off, the denial flimsy.

Anabelle was going to be there.

Anabelle was going to be there.

Anabelle was going to be there.

"Hey, Walker. It's okay. We'll be fine," Lyla said softly, offering a sympathetic smile.

I simply nodded, the words caught in my throat.

"Goodnight, Lyla," I finally managed, my voice barely a whisper.

"Night, Walk." She stood, her gaze lingering on me. For a long moment, she just watched me before placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You sure you're good?" she asked, genuine concern etched on her face.

"I'm okay. Promise," I reassured her, the words feeling hollow even to my own ears.

"See you tomorrow, Walker."

"See you, Lyla."