Teal.

Julian's phone rang off the hook that day; it ranged from Marcus, to Claire, even to his own sister, all pertaining to the article on himself and Teal in the tabloid. He'd taken the time to read it once she had left, grinding his teeth a bit at the descriptions the tabloids seemed to give them; a "lowkey romance" that "probably started when Emerson made her first trip to London months earlier." There had been that picture as well, the one of their first encounter on the same day Claire was photographed with him and John Delaynes. Naturally, it had it's own speculation of his involvement with the production of her novel turned potential blockbuster; was she using him, or vice versa? He'd thrown it in the trash not long after.

Claire had left a voicemail, snide and clipped. Marcus merely demanded a call back. His sister wanted details—and perhaps an autograph from the author herself—if it was true. He'd taken none of their calls. Only listened to them in passing as he began his search for answers about Teal Emerson.
The first thing that popped up in regards to her name was an article pertaining to her first and only book signing in Orlando, Florida. Things had seemed fine initially, until one man approached her table. Those in attendance said her demeanor had immediately changed from quiet but pleasant enough to a shaking, sobbing mess. She'd gone so far as to scream at him, it went on, demanding he leave. Staff had escorted her to the back, while security accompanied the man from the bookstore.

The rest of her signings were cancelled, and Teal Emerson had seemingly fallen off of the grid—until her appearance in London months later. The details of the incident were enough to leave him with more questions than answers, but it supplied a slight truth; whatever was wrong with Teal Emerson had something to do with the man who had approached her at the book signing. He was a catalyst.

Julian rubbed his eyes, trying to recall anything he could about what she had said on the subject, the little information she had let slip. Whoever it was, terrified her on some level; he'd seen it in her eyes during the Skype call, and the morning she'd shown up, phone in hand. They had been the one to contact her both times; he had no doubt about that. And her old editor had aided those endeavors. She'd said she deserved it. And... it had something to do with the book.

"There's a difference between writing about what you know, and writing about you."

It wasn't just something to do with the book. It was everything to do with the book. Julian didn't hesitate then, up and off to the lone bookshelf in the corner of the room as he pulled Changing Alex from it's spot on the second shelf. He flipped and skimmed, almost constantly for nearly twenty minutes. Teal had softly spelled it out for him all along, he'd just been too thick to notice. Even at the auditions it had been there, hovering in the back of his mind. Mandy Costello's performance as Elizabeth had reminded him of someone; that someone had been Teal.

It started to come together then; her disdain for the book, why she wished it wasn't published. It was based on her own heartbreak, and out there somewhere, the real "Alex" was a ghost from her past that wouldn't stay dead. The way she'd spoken of that character; the connection between Elizabeth and Alex in the novel, things made sense in some strange way. But even then, the questions it prompted left more holes in the picture than he had expected. If this man was the basis for Alex in the novel, why was she so terrified of him? The novel itself had ended on a somber note; Elizabeth still waiting, hoping that one day, Alex would come back to her. If any of his thoughts held true at that point, what had made Teal afraid of someone she had wanted back so desperately?

His phone went off yet again, pulling him from his thoughts with an irritated sigh. If it was someone else calling about that damned tabloid he was going to fry his phone just as he'd fried Teal's. As he retrieved it from his coffee table he was a little annoyed to see Marcus's name once more. He clenched his jaw, accepting the call.

"Marcus, if this is about that bloody tabloid I swear--"

"Julian, you jackass, you actually did it! Wait, what tabloid, what are you on about?"

The actor paused then, glancing out the window at the greyed afternoon sky. Marcus was usually the first one to find out about the tabloids, badgering him about exact details. He'd assumed that was what his earlier call had been about. "The one of Teal and me. Are you telling me that's not what you're phoning about? What did I do, Marcus? I'm not sure I follow. A bit preoccupied at the moment."

"Bloody hell did the tabloids get a hold of you again, man?" Marcus groaned on the other end of the phone. "Here I was, thinking I was going to have a nice day, pop some champagne later in celebration, but now I’m going to have to try to sweep up some mess? You're killing me, Julian."

"Celebration—Marcus, what in the hell is there to celebrate? I have no clue what you're on about." Julian rubbed his forehead, he could feel a slight headache beginning to pulse in his temples.

"Oh—Well, before you graced me with the shit news of your appearance in the gossip columns once again, I was actually calling to tell you that you've been offered the role. Alex is all yours if you want it." Despite the revelation, his agent sounded more miffed than anything. It took Julian a few moments to process just what he was hearing.

"Wait. You mean for the movie?"

"Yes, for the bloody movie! Now why in gods name are you in the bloody tabloids again--"

"Sorry, Marcus. Something's come up. I'll call you later." Julian didn't wait for a reply, ending the call quickly. This was just what he needed right now. He wasted no time bringing up his contacts and finding her name. All of ten seconds later, he pushed send. It was an excuse to hopefully get her back down again after their incident that morning.

Got the role, need to talk to you about it at your discretion, please.

All that was left to do was wait. He held onto his phone as he paced the living room a bit, soon plopping himself on the couch. It was the perfect excuse to get her in a face to face setting, to try to flesh out some of the mystery around Teal Emerson.

The thirty-five minutes between his text and her response were the most agonizing of his life; the telly had gone on and off multiple times; he'd paced a bit, and started some tea. But the moment his phone had gone off, he had been all over it.

Ten minutes.

Much to his pleasant surprise, ten minutes was genuinely all it took before he heard the click of his door with the turn of her key to his apartment. Julian looked up expectantly from where he stood in the kitchen as she rounded the corner, unwinding the scarf from around her neck as she did. Her eyes met his then, blinking a few times as she slowly approached the kitchen, were he had two mugs of tea prepped and waiting; a peace offering of sorts.

"...Hi, again."

"Hello, Teal." He gave a smile, sliding one of the mugs towards her. The girl eyed it for a moment as she took her coat off, stepping back momentarily to toss it over the arm of the couch before returning to take the mug.

"Thanks, um. You didn't have to." Her fingers grasped at it gingerly, gray-green eyes keeping mostly down as she blew lightly on the mug's contents. His brow furrowed a bit. Something felt slightly off. Not that he was too horribly surprised.

"What, no congratulations? I thought of all people you'd be overjoyed at the news." Julian took a sip of his own tea then, elbows propped on the counter as he brought himself closer to her eye level.

Her lips twitched downwards then, slowly setting the mug down in front of her. Her burgundy painted nails drummed lightly on it's sides. "I suppose I should be, shouldn't I?"

"Are you not?" He tilted his head curiously.

"I mean, any other day? Probably. It's just..." She trailed off then, glancing out the large windows that showed the busy cityscape. "Of all days, I think this is the one I would have been better off not hearing anything pertaining to... You know what. Sorry."

"Pertaining to the chap who broke your heart so badly you wrote a novel about him? The one that won't leave you alone now?" It was out of Julian's mouth before he'd thought too much about it. He was starkly focused on her then, waiting on a reaction—any type of reaction to his blunt understanding of the current situation.

She stared out the window briefly, slowly turning to look at him with a steady, wide-eyed stare. What little color her face seemed to have drained away then, voice soft and cracked as she spoke, "Excuse me?"

"'Alex,' as he's called in your book. That's your fellow from the skype call, and the phone calls, and even the book signing isn't it? That was your story, your personal tale of heartbreak. You essentially told me that, I was just too daft to pick up on it. But the girl, the one they've got playing Elizabeth? I should have noticed it then; her portrayal reminded me of you. And once it clicked, a lot of other stuff more or less fell into place. You're running from him, aren't you? But the question that still gets me is, why are you running from someone you seemed to love so dearly, Teal, hm?"

She didn't reply for a few moments, the air in his loft a crackling silence; her hands fell from the mug slowly, eyes never leaving him. "That’s... why are you doing this? That's none of your business--"

"No? You've come to me twice, Teal, twice now because of this fellow. And you've given me nothing. No explanations, no reasons, nothing. If you weren't going to give me answers, I had to find them myself. So I've tried. I gave you every single answer you wanted, Teal. All along, I told you whatever you asked. And you gave me nothing to go off of. It was time I got some answers about you in return, don't you think?"

“No, no, no; there’s a difference here. I asked questions and you had a choice to answer, I never demanded anything, I never pried when you didn’t want me to. And you’re standing here telling me I owe you answers? Sorry, but who the hell do you think you are?” She snapped, like a frightened beast lashing out. “There’s one major difference between you and I, Julian. We both say we want our privacy but only one of us means it. You don’t really want your privacy; you like people asking about your affairs and then telling them about it. I am not like that; I am not you. I want to keep my personal affairs just that; personal. And by that I mean they’re my issues alone, not mine and the tabloids, or my parents, or yours. Mine. Are you getting that?”

Julian could only watch, awed by her outburst and the rage she had managed to channel towards him so quickly; it was something he certainly hadn’t foreseen. But it had happened, and it made him realize something; something that should have been apparent since the morning she showed up at his loft, phone in hand. How he had overlooked it, he wasn’t sure. Slowly, Julian stepped forward. His strides were steady, and as he came closer the expression on Teal’s face changed from anger to confusion as she began to walk backwards, pressing herself against the counter as her eyes darted from him to the surrounding room.

“Oh, I’m getting it now Teal,” He said quietly, less than a foot from her. She seemed to shrink back into the counter forehead crinkled, chest rising and falling rapidly as his hands came to rest on the counter on either side of her. She was cornered, panic apparent on her face as he looked down at her. Julian leaned down, face hovering inches from her own as her bright eyes stared into his. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, reaching up to push a few of the curls out of her face. “You’re afraid, absolutely petrified of letting anyone close after what he did, aren’t you?”

“I—I don’t—“

He tilted her head up lightly, noses separated by a few small inches. “And me? I’m terrifying because you let me slip through. I’ve gotten a little too close for comfort, haven’t I?”

Julian felt the sting on his cheek before he realized an open palm was even being directed at his face. Teal took advantage of his stunned disposition, shoving him stumbling backwards, and rushing past him before he could even process just what was happening. He turned to chase after her in time to hear the violent slamming of the door to his apartment.