Off the Record by Camryn Garrett (korean novels in english .TXT) 📗

male fragility, and a lot of rap music either doesn’t mention women or treats them like objects.

But people like Lennox and Woody Allen and Roman Polanski—the things they’ve done are more than just problematic. Sexually abusing someone is different from cheating on a wife or rapping sexist lyrics. Sexual assault is a gigantic display of power. It’s someone’s way of saying, I’m doing this to you because we both know you can’t do anything to stop it.

How do I fight against that? I don’t know if I can. Survivors are all around, and their pain is real, so vivid that I can’t pretend it isn’t there.

“The theater,” Marius says, startling me out of my thoughts. “It’s this one.”

I glance down at my ticket. It’s a Wonderful Life. Perfect for the holiday season, I guess, but I wouldn’t know.

“Wow,” I mutter. “Never seen this before.”

I really like Jimmy Stewart. Wonder if he was regular problematic, like a normal person, or if he harassed or assaulted someone when he was still alive. I sure hope not. I hope there are people who made good art and tried their best to be good people. It’s just getting harder and harder to believe.

“Never?” He blinks. “Everyone has seen It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“I think I started it once, but I fell asleep before the ending.”

“Well”—Marius’s voice is soft—“it’s amazing.”

After a few minutes, the movie starts. Everything is in black-and-white. Jimmy’s character speaks with the old-timey accent I find charming. Thirty minutes into the movie, things start going wrong for him. I flick Marius’s shoulder.

“I hate you,” I hiss. “This is supposed to be happy.”

“It will be.”

And it is, at the end, so much so that it’s almost overwhelming. Jimmy’s character has his wife and his family and the entire community around him, loving him. He wanted to die and now everything is better than he ever thought.

I can’t believe I’m crying. But I get it. I get being completely overwhelmed with life and all of its issues. Being in New York for the holidays should be happy, but it isn’t. This world feels too big for me to handle on my own. I guess I have my family, but I don’t know if they can handle something as big as this.

I wish everyone in Hollywood would show up, like at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, and figure out a way to make sure no one would see Lennox ever again. But wishes don’t always come true.

Marius doesn’t say anything as we step outside the theater, even though I’m sure he saw me blinking back tears. I realize that I don’t know if he’s talkative in general or if he’s just been talking because I’m supposed to be writing about him.

I stop at a poster for The Princess Bride. It looks like it came straight out of the eighties, with faded colors and wrinkled edges clear through the frame.

“You think they’ve had this since it came out?”

“Maybe. This place has been around forever.” Marius glances up. “It’s a great movie.”

“My parents love it,” I say. “I don’t know how many times I’ve seen it.”

I want to reach up to touch it, just to remember it’s real. The Princess Bride is one of the first movies that was really fun for me.

“I love happy endings,” I say. I don’t know if I’m talking to him or myself.

“My mom doesn’t.” Marius makes a soft sound. “She thinks they’re contrived and unrealistic. I think she likes stories that seem more real than anything.”

“I want to believe happy endings can happen in real life,” I say. “I don’t know. Life is just so messy. But I think I can deal with all the torture and sadness as long as it’s okay by the end.”

I glance at him. I don’t smile, exactly, but my mouth softens. He doesn’t seem like an adult who has everything together. I know I’m not.

“I understand.” His voice is quiet. “But even if there isn’t a happy ending, things get better after the movie is over. We just don’t see it. That’s what I think, anyway.”

“Yeah, but I need to know. I can’t just assume.”

“Yeah.” He nods once. “I get that. Sometimes things don’t get better.”

“I know,” I say. “I just don’t like being reminded of that. There are already so many negative aspects of life.”

“But they’re what make experiences real,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s sort of what makes life real. Otherwise you’d be dreaming all the time.”

“Well.” I pause. “Maybe I wish I could dream all the time.”

“Yeah.” He bites his lip. “Me too.”

@JosieTheJournalist: no one listens to women except other women and that’s why you have to look out for all women, not just the ones like you, thank you for coming to my TED Talk

“The front desk called.”

I glance up, shutting the door to the hotel room behind me. What now?

“There’s someone who wants to see you,” Alice continues, barely looking up from her laptop. “But apparently, she isn’t just any old someone. Charlotte Hart has a private room set up for you at some fancy hotel restaurant down the street.”

My eyes go wide. Charlotte Hart hasn’t won any Oscars, but she’s still really big, running this lifestyle brand ever since she had kids. Her only good roles are from the nineties, but she’s still Charlotte Hart. Her name is gold. I never figured anyone that big would speak to me. Anytime I hear a story about her in the news, it’s from some big reporter.

“I thought,” Alice says, very slowly, “that you were interviewing this Marius kid?”

“Um.” I take a deep breath. “I mean, I still am.”

“Nuh-uh.” She shuts her laptop. “Talk. Now.”

So I sit down on my bed and tell her everything that’s happened since Atlanta, leaving out all the names. When I’m done, Alice blinks rapidly, like her brain can’t compute.

“Wow.” She shakes her head. “Josie, I…”

“You can’t tell Mom,” I say. “She’d make