Being Maeā¦. Part 1
The red light blinked off.
Silence rushed in where Maeās voice had just been.
āAlright, everybody take five,ā the director called out, rubbing his temples. āWeāll reset.ā
Mae kept her posture straight, hands still folded on the desk like nothing was wrong. But inside, everything felt loud.
āMae,ā the director said softly, walking closer. āYou good? Your energy feltā¦off.ā
She forced a small smile.
āYeah. Iām fine. Just didnāt get much sleep.ā
He studied her for a second ā the kind of look people give when they know youāre lying but donāt want to push.
āOkay. Get some water. Weāre back in five.ā
As soon as he walked away, Solange slid into the chair beside her.
āYou never miss a beat,ā she whispered. āBut you stumbled twice on the script. Thatās not you. Whatās going on?ā
Mae adjusted the mic clipped to her blazer, avoiding eye contact.
āIām just tired. Thatās it.ā
Solange raised an eyebrow.
āTired donāt look like heartbreak.ā
Maeās jaw tightened.
āI said Iām fine.ā
A long pause sat between them.
The studio buzzed around them ā makeup artists fixing powder, producers checking notes, cameras being wiped down ā life moving like nothing had cracked.
But Mae felt it.
The hollow.
The ache she brought to work with her.
The breakup with Tori replayed in her head like a breaking news headline she couldnāt mute.
The silence.
The words said out of anger.
The door closing harder than it needed to.
Solange sighed gently.
āYou donāt have to carry everything alone, you know.ā
Mae finally met her eyes.
āI do. Because in five minutes I have to go back out there and tell the world everythingās okay.ā
The directorās voice echoed again.
āPlaces, everyone!ā
Mae straightened her shoulders, took a breath, and put the mask back on.
Breaking news always came easy.
It was her own life she couldnāt report on.
āø»
The studio doors slid open just as Mae was reviewing the teleprompter.
She didnāt hear him at first.
But she felt it.
That shift in the room.
That pull in her chest she hated because it always meant him.
Tori stood near the back wall, hands in his hoodie pockets, eyes scanning the studio like he didnāt quite belong there.
For a second, Mae forgot how to breathe.
He came.
After everythingā¦ he actually came.
Hope ā stupid, unwanted hope ā crept up her spine.
Solange followed Maeās gaze and frowned.
āIs that him?ā
Mae swallowed.
āYeah.ā
The director called out, āThirty seconds!ā
Mae stood up slowly, never taking her eyes off Tori.
He looked nervous. Uncertain. Like a man who came to speak but didnāt rehearse his lines.
Their eyes met.
And for a brief moment, Mae thought ā maybe heās here to apologize.
Maybe heās here to fight for us.
Maybe he finally chose me.
She took a step toward him.
He didnāt move.
Instead, he glanced down at his phone.
Typed.
Paused.
Then his screen lit up in her hand.
Tori: I just wanted to make sure you were okay.
That was it.
No Iām sorry.
No I miss you.
No letās fix this.
Just concern from a distance.
The kind people give when theyāve already decided to let you go.
Maeās chest tightened.
You came all the way hereā¦ just to stand there?
Solange whispered, āIs he serious?ā
Mae forced her face blank again as the director yelled, āFive!ā
Tori lifted his hand halfway ā like he might wave, like he might come closer.
But he dropped it.
He stayed where he was.
Didnāt cross the room.
Didnāt fight through the pain.
Didnāt choose her.
Security opened the door behind him for someone else to pass and Tori stepped aside.
Backward.
Out of the studio.
Out of her reach.
Out of them.
The red light blinked on again.
Mae sat back at the desk, heart breaking in silence.
āGood evening,ā she said smoothly into the camera, voice steady.
But inside she thought:
You showed upā¦
just not for me.
Reading Mae's story instantly resonated with me, especially the way she hides her heartbreak behind a professional facade. I have experienced similar moments where personal pain clashes with public responsibilities. Maeās struggle to keep her emotions in check when the red light blinks off reminded me of times when I had to perform or act ānormalā despite feeling broken inside. Itās emotionally exhausting to compartmentalize grief and still present a confident front to the world. The scene where Tori appears unexpectedly but ultimately keeps his distance is particularly powerful. It captures the confusing mix of hope and disappointment that follows a breakup. That hesitation, the message āI just wanted to make sure you were okay,ā without apology or effort to reconcile, conveys the complexity of letting go while still caring from afar. Iāve learned that closure is rarely tidy or cinematicāitās messy, filled with unresolved feelings. Maeās inner turmoilāthe ache she carries to work, the silence that haunts her, the way she āputs the mask back onāāspeaks volumes about the pressure many people face to suppress vulnerability, especially in high-pressure jobs like live TV. This story highlights how mental health and emotional wellbeing can be overlooked when professional demands take precedence. From personal experience, seeking support from friends or colleagues, as Solange gently offers, can make a significant difference even if itās just to share the burden. If thereās one takeaway, itās the courage it takes to face your shattered life and still show up. While Mae pretends everything is okay on camera, inside she is breaking. Many can relate to this dual reality, where external appearances mask internal struggles. Stories like Maeās remind us that itās okay not to be okay and that healing takes time and sometimes, the willingness to let someone else in.
