I thought I would share a chapter focused on the Oscars from Room 702 (this is the second half of the evening).
February 26, 2:35 a.m.
Having seen her mother safely to her room next door, and, given how many hours she had been in heels, Kat isn’t surprised to feel extreme relief after removing her shoes and sinking into the luxurious mattress. Since leaving the Winchester so many hours ago, this is the first chance she’s had to be alone … with him.
The statuette is heavier than she had thought it would be. Of course, that’s what everyone says.
Kat flips on the television, finding the E! Network and leaves the channel on, hoping they will replay her speech. The newly minted Oscar award winner is doubtful; after all, there were some highly memorable events throughout the broadcast, and hers was not among the highlights.
Other than the fact she now has an Oscar, the whole evening feels like a dream. Somewhere within her champagne-soaked brain, she recognizes this is reality. The statuette is hers, forever, a permanent memento of all her hard work and dedication—of sixty-hour weeks, of getting through the glass ceiling.
The statue sits in the middle of the pristine white comforter.
She realizes this would be the point when anyone in her position might question, wow, has everything I’ve given up over the years been worth it?
For her, the answer is an instant and unequivocal yes. Standing on the stage in front of her peers and being recognized in the best way possible is worth not having a “normal life.”
With her emotions spent and the remaining alcohol waning from her system, Kat slips off her dress, splashes some water on her face and crawls into bed with the small metallic man, more content than if any flesh-and-blood person was next to her.