Rushed (Hate at First Flight #1) ✔️

EPILOGUE

PLEASE READ MY RANT AFTER !!!! BELLOOOOOWW!!!!
xoxo,
Losalini

This is it!!!! :'( :'(

BTW.. THERE WILL BE BONUS CHAPTERS FROM DYLAN'S POV!!!! 3
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I guess what they say about finding your prince charming when you least expect to find him is true.

After all, who knew I'd fall in love with a shades-wearing weirdo after running into him? Who knew I'd be stuck with that shades-wearing idiot for months while we filmed a movie? And who knew that same shades-wearing weirdo would love me back?

Sir Jerks-A-Lot, Mr Arrogant, Shades-Wearing-Idiot...

I guess Dylan was right when he said that I wasn't creative when it came to making nicknames.

"Ms Hunt, you're on," a PA girl of about eighteen said as she directed me to the visual effects room.

I nodded my thanks before heading there.

"She's here!" The assistant director called out.

"Of course she is. She's my daughter," Flynn Mathers announced as he got up from his chair marked 'Main Producer'.

I half smiled at his words as I headed for my mark.

Rushed had finished filming three months ago and true to his word, Declan had gotten me a role in his new project, The Wasteland, where I was the lead's rebellious daughter.

And the phone call that had happened right before my dinner with Dylan?

Just as I was about to hang up, Flynn apologized for his actions and not having stood up to his mother. I had only decided to hear him out and forget all about it when he begged me to meet with him for lunch.

I hadn't quite fully forgiven him yet but what can you do, right?

As quoted in Jane the Virgin's episode 12: We are blood and family. Nothing we can do will be forever unforgivable. Or at least something along that line.

It might take me more time than he anticipated for me to forgive him, but in time I might just call him 'dad'.

After filming, I went to my wardrobe to change.

My phone rang just as I closed the door.

'Gregory' appeared on the screen with a goofy picture of my boyfriend at Disneyland.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hunt," he greeted. "Do you have any idea how late you are right now?" Dylan asked.

"Uhmm..." I stared at the clock that hung on the wall. 5:32pm. "The premiere's not for another two and a half hours, Dylan."

He chuckled. "Yes, but wardrobe, make-up and transport will take you three hours, babe."

"Amelia said she can take care of everything."

"No. I already hired stylists for you. They're waiting at your condo."

"Dylan! I don't need stylists."

"Honey, have you ever seen photos from other premieres?"

"Yeah."

"Exactly. You need to look your best so the tabloids don't murder you tomorrow. And personally applied make-up isn't going to cover it."

I groaned as I realized he was right. "Fine."