Page 29 of Made for You
“Please. It’s not your fault.”
“But I feel responsible, Julia. It’s like I released this sweet bunny rabbit into a fucking den of wolves. This is the last thing I ever wanted to happen to you.” Again, Andy runs a hand through his curly mop of hair, further disordering it. “Jesus. I’m still in shock.”
“You know, I’m actually okay.” I touch his arm, trying to recover the sense of calm I was feeling before his arrival, and transmit it to Andy as well. Not only is the attack behind me, but to my surprise, good things have come of it. Yes, it’s horrible to be faced with my built-in limitations. But on the other side of it—though I can’t pretend not to have heard some whispers of attention getter—the girls really do seem friendlier. Josh even came by this morning to check on me, and held my hand while we talked. I kept looking at his arrow tattoo and wondering if the attack might be shifting his heart’s direction toward me. Maybe people can’t open their hearts until vulnerability creates a connection point. I don’t know. It’s a lot to process, but I’d be a fool to ignore the silver lining.
“There he is!” comes a sharp, female voice. Andy and I both turn. Half a dozen people in suits are moving toward us like a dark school of fish.
“Viola,” says Andy. He shakes hands with the petite woman leading the pack, then turns to me. “Julia, meet Viola, our head counsel at WekTech. The rest of these suckers are her goons.” Light laughter moves through the remaining men and women as Viola extends a hand toward me.
“Hello, Julia.” Her grip is cool and firm. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
All of a sudden I feel very frivolous in my sequined top and wedge heels.
“What’s going on?” I say, hoping my bright smile conceals the spark of fear trying to ignite in my stomach.
“We’re here to meet with the Proposal production team to discuss last night’s unacceptable security breach and go over next steps,” says Viola in a voice as manicured as her look.
“Next steps?”
Viola tilts her head. “As a Synth, your legal personhood is in question, so unfortunately, you can’t file charges yourself. Therefore, the best route is for WekTech to file for criminal property damage. That woman deserves to spend time behind bars for what she did.” The ultra-sincerity of her tone is sickly in its sweetness. “I know this may sound overwhelming. But, Julia, rest assured that WekTech will take care of everything for you. We presented a thorough list of security demands to Proposal execs. If production can’t be amenable, we’ll pull you from the show.”
Wait—what?
But before I can respond, Viola smiles, says, “Shall we?” and leads her group away with an airy “Nice to meet you, Julia” tossed out like a final piece of candy from the lawyer parade.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Andy says to Viola as he gestures for her to go on.
For a second, alone again with Andy, I can hardly breathe, hardly gather my thoughts into words. I feel like a tornado just whipped through me.
Who am I kidding. True vulnerability isn’t nice. It’s awful. These people have the power to remove me from my very purpose. If they take me off the show—if I don’t find love with Josh—
“What is happening?” I whisper.
“It might feel like we’re going overboard, but this is serious, Julia,” Andy says. “We didn’t bring you here just to be assaulted. We can’t let that happen again.”
“It could’ve been any of us. She was just a crazy fan. Trust me, Andy. It’s not going to happen again.”
“We need to consider what’s best for you.”
“The show is my life. Josh is the future I want.” I’ve never heard my own voice sound this way. Stretched taut. Pleading. “This is my chance at happiness, Andy. Don’t I get a say?”
For a second there’s something between us—something that feels dangerous, like a sleeping monster I’ve tapped on the shoulder. Then Andy exhales and rubs his face.
“Fuck. Of course you get a say, Julia. Look. Whatever the legal reality is for Synths, you’re a person to me. A full person, okay? If you want to stay, you stay. I’ll give my recommendations, but you call the shots.”
The wave of relief is so powerful, my knees might buckle. Andy’s on my side. He has my back.
“Thank you.” I release a ragged breath. “I want to stay.”
“Hey, this is all about you.”
Then, Andy’s off to join the meeting, and I’m back to the confessional. There’s a quick light test. Someone powders my forehead and nose. As the crew does their thing, something Andy said pricks my mind like a burr. Just to be assaulted. I know what happened was awful. But the way he said it felt so...reductive. Like the attack was the main event of my life, and everything else, a mere footnote to those few seconds of violence.
I take a few deep breaths. The past twenty-four hours have been chaos. In this interview, I want to be self-possessed. Prove that even though the attacker hurt my body, she didn’t destroy me. In fact, she doesn’t define anything about me. I’m here to fall in love. I’m bigger than this, and my life is bigger than this, and I am moving on.
When I open my eyes, I’m ready. The producer signals that the cameras are rolling, then says, “Walk us through your first reaction when you were attacked.”
I face the cameras and jump in. “It happened so fast. Like, one minute I’m enjoying a moment to myself, and the next moment, I’m on the ground.”