Love On-Screen // Elizabeth Olsen

Panic

Warning: includes panic attacks and anxiety
Word count: 1021 words

Lizzie

"Now let's welcome the talented Elizabeth Olsen on the stage everyone!"

A roar of applause echoed through the audience as I walked out on stage and hugged the interviewer. We shared pleasantries and I waved to the audience, forced smile adorned on my face. The audience was much bigger than what I had been told but I sat down calmly nevertheless.

"It's so nice to meet you!" the man says in a happy tone.
"It's great to meet you too!" I tried to match his enthusiasm and hide my apprehension. "Thank you so much for being here, we really appreciate it. So..." he started as I drowned out his voice.

I hate interviews, they make me worry and get all self conscious. I practically begged my publicist for me not to go but with the new movie it was unavoidable. Right now, I'd much rather be gardening or reading but apparently I need to 'tease' the audience.

It was going well so far; the man mostly asked about acting and food as I strained my voice to seen as nonchalant as possible.

"So after Dr Strange: Multiverse Of Madness a lot of fans are speculating if your character Wanda Maximoff has actually died; are you going to be in the next marvel movie?" He leaned forward curious to what my answer may be. I smiled slightly and tried not to overshare and spoil something that people can't know yet.

"I don't know seems like a lot of work," I joked making the crowd of people laugh. "Honestly, I would love to play Wanda again. I love Wanda and I think that she is very strong and such a good role model to young girls and people in general because of the hardships she's gone through and the relatability in her personality."

"Well, on the topic of Wanda, I really wanna know what types of diets and workouts you did to get into that beautiful physique and if you're going to be doing to be doing those again to get back into Wanda's shape."

I gulped, looking down and fiddling with my dress's hem. Was he sexualising my character whilst also calling me fat on live television? He's not. Right?

I realised everyone was silent and probably waiting for my answer so my breathing began to pick up. I was panicking which made my lack of words come out in a series of stutters.

"We-Well I -umm"

This is going to be everywhere no matter what I say- get it together Lizzie.

"I m-mean, I don't do anything to special I-I just balance my meals and go to the uh gym regularly I guess."

"That's it?! There has to be more. Don't gatekeep Elizabeth." He raised his eyebrows in a playful manner as I became more and more uncomfortable. The audience was silent with some quiet murmurs as I tried to find my voice. Breathe. Please don't say something stupid.

"Well, I'm not lying. I just balance everything out and have a few cheat days now and again." I chuckled lightly with the crowd trying to end that part in the discussion. It seemed to have worked as the next question he asked was about my career goals.

Even though the moment was over, my anxiety was not. For the rest of the interview I didn't look the interviewer and my leg was bouncing in anticipation. I focused on my breathing, counted back from one hundred and even said affirmations in my head but nothing helped.

As soon as the interview had finished I practically ran off the stage. I needed space and being in a room with over two hundred pairs of eyes staring at you plus the thousands of people watching from home worldwide doesn't seem the most welcoming space to be in.

Unfortunately as soon as I had gotten outside, paparazzi and fans surrounded me from all angles. I didn't have claustrophobia but right now, everyone felt too close.

"Why are you running?"

"Can you sign this please!?"

"Are you okay?!"

"Pose for the camera!"

Questions were thrown at me as I looked around frantically for a way to leave and once I did, I ran quick and far. I lost the everyone a few minutes later in a small, dark alleyway. The floor was filthy but I didn't care, I pressed my back against the wall, gasping for air with one hand on my chest trying to listen to my heartbeat. I slid down onto the ground with tears quickly falling down my cheeks. I wiped my face but it was no use as a fresh new set of tears replaced the old ones.

I hate this. I hate this more than words can express. Why can't I be normal? Why can't I answer a question without getting offended? I haven't had a panic attack in a while but I can always remember how draining physically and mentally it was. I was sobbing at this point; my dress was slightly wet with teardrops. I can practically see the headlines now and I fully know that my publicist is not exactly going to be pleased.

Why do I have to disappoint everyone?

My vision was blurred from the weeping but I still tried to look around for my purse to get my phone. I need to call Scarlett. She will never be disappointed. I scrambled around crying still and almost dropped my phone (once I found it) from the lack of coordination. I looked at the screen and-

Great. It's dead.

I watched the sky in defeat. On the bright side, the sunset was beautiful. (Note the sarcasm.)

I heard someone calling out but I decided to ignore it. My breathing wasn't evening out and I needed to find a way home after this. Lips quivering, I stopped myself from whining or wheezing to try and get my breathing back to normal.

Then I saw someone in front of me. I didn't look in their eyes hoping they would leave and not recognise me. She stayed in front of me for quite a while not saying anything until they finally spoke.

"Are you okay?"

Thanks for reading <3