Secret Things

by Andrews, Nazarea

  "Hey, boys," she says, grinning and hopping up. She's this tiny thing, and looking at her, you'd never know that when it comes to her clients, she's a fucking pitbull. I've seen her make grown men cry and watched her shut down a con for not protecting Cari from insults, all while wearing a smile and an almost sickly sweet voice.

  "So we're here," Alyssa says, snapping her gum and eyeing her client. I don't know her the way Dimitri does, but he's been with Alyssa since he first hit Hollywood, and she's been a good agent for him. She doesn't scare me quite the way KP does, but she's smart, gorgeous and ruthless.

  So she's vaguely terrifying, in her own special way.

  "I broke up with Victor last week," Dimitri says, sprawling in my chair. I scowl at him and he grins, unrepentant bastard.

  "That did come across my desk, yes," KP says dryly.

  "How does that effect the show?" he asks, and she shrugs.

  "Vic is visible and you being attached to him took us in front of his fanbase, as well as the joint fanbase you share. But you aren't riding his coattails, Dimitri. You haven't been for years. So there will be fallout, sure, and we'll see a dip in ratings, but it's not a big deal. The fandom loves you, and the show will survive."

  He turns his gaze on Alyssa and she shrugs. "You’re killing a good chunk of your star power. Breakups don't always go well. Taylor hasn't had a good break up since that Jonas kid. But, Blake made it work for him. We'll keep an eye out. And you've got steady work so it's not like you're hurting."

  "The real issue here is that you've gotten some more press than we're used to, but that's not a bad thing. I've had my girls working through your accounts. There's a lot of the usual, and a few fans upset that the era of Victri is over, but for the most part, they're confused. It wouldn't be a bad idea to put out a statement.

  "My romantic life isn't for their public consumption, Aly."

  "Actually, babe, it is. Has been for years. You and Vic set it up that way. So just suck it up and do what needs to be done. Okay?"

  "Aly and I are concerned about a few fans who aren't acting...stable," KP says, delicately.

  "How not stable?" I ask, and both of them glance at me, as if startled to be reminded I'm here.

  I wonder if they also forgot we're actually in my trailer.

  Knowing them, yes. They did.

  "They've made some threats. Nothing we're taking very seriously yet. We're monitoring the accounts, and the IP addresses, and right now, there's no danger. But I want you aware of it and I want to be aware if anything changes with you, that could trigger more anger from these types of fans."

  Dimitri looks at me, and I stare back, and then, quietly, "Like dating someone else. That could trigger them, couldn't it?"

  Both women are silent, and then. Her voice very clear and very cold, KP says, "I think, boys, it's time you tell us the whole fucking story."

  Dimitri glances at me and then he does. Quickly, skipping over the more intimate details, he lays it all out for them both.

  So they can analyze and dissect and I fucking know that KP is going to be livid. I'm dating my fucking co-star, for Christ's sake.

  Dimitri and Vic might not be fucking with the show, but me? Leaving Cari? That is.

  Finally, there is silence, and I look up to find KP staring at me.

  "Nothing's changed," I tell her.

  "Everything's changed," Alyssa scoffs.

  I ignore her and Dimitri. Right now the person who matters is staring at me like I'm a problem, with the expression I've seen when she brings all of her weight and influence down on a problem and crushes it before it can disrupt her morning coffee. "I'm not leaving Cari. I'm not going to out myself and I'm not going to damage the show."

  "You can't know that."

  "I do know that I'm doing my best here," I say, my voice sharp. "I'm doing everything I can to protect you and this show and still be happy."

  "We own you," she snaps. "You are contractually ours. Your happiness comes second to Fractal Ends."

  "No," I say.

  Just that.

  Nothing more.

  But it draws her up short, leaves her staring in silence, and Dimitri.

  Dimitri makes this tiny noise, that's not a laugh but it's not not a laugh. I shoot him a quick look and he grins. Bright and cocky and all mine.

  "I love this show. I'm committed to it and to the fandom and to making Fractal succeed even though we never should have. You know that as well as I do. I'm not telling you anything knew. But I can't live my life dating a girl who’s like my sister just so that y'all can play a ratings game. It's not fair."

  "Fair isn't part of the equation," she snaps.

  "It should be," I answer. "So here's the deal. I'm dating Dimitri. I'm not going to change the public opinion about who I'm dating but you need to know."

  I stare at her, and I see the publicist who made this stupid little show something. It wasn't just me and Cari in front of the camera, or even Evans or the writers. It was just as much KP and her brilliant mind for marketing.

  "We're a family here," I say softly. "And I need this."

  She stares at me for a long moment, and then, sighs.

  And I know it’s not over. But for the moment, we’ve won.

  KP dumps one of her girls in our laps with strict orders to stay the fuck out of sight, and then retreats to L.A.

  And for a few weeks, it’s quiet. We film, and we hide from the world.

  And it’s perfect.

  There’s nothing hanging over us. No boyfriend, no miscommunication, not threat of sudden exposure. There’s just us and the quiet of our house and his townhouse, and Jeb’s car. And I love it. I love waking up to Dimitri and knowing that we’ve got nothing but time and space.

  “We have a con next week,” he murmurs. I nod against his pillow and snuffle. It’s fucking Sunday, our one day off, occasionally, and I want to sleep in. I want to enjoy the warmth of my boyfriend in bed next to me and the quiet of a day without expectations, and maybe, a movie marathon with Cari later tonight.

  “It’s close to home for you,” he adds, pressing the words into my skin with his lips and the tantalizing press of teeth.

  I groan, and he murmurs, “We should have dinner with your mom.”

  I spit a curse and roll him under me, pinning him to the bed and kissing that fucking grin from his lips.

  God, I love this bastard.

  “Dimitri?” I pant, and he rolls his hips up into me. Quirks an eyebrow in silent question. “Don’t talk about my mom while you’re naked, dude.”

  He laughs, until I take his cock in my mouth and shut him up.

  But it’s different. This is different. In the best way.

  He’s in my space, and stealing my clothes. The fangirls will have a fucking field day with that, but Jeb is nowhere around and he can’t exactly leave by himself to go home and pack. KP’s orders are pretty strict about that, which is the only thing about this whole thing that is stifling.

  But if some increased security is what I have to deal with to be with Dimitri? It’s a fair trade. It’s more than fair.

  Still.

  “Dude, if you steal my boxers I will kick your ass.”

  “No you won’t,” he grins at me, stealing a pair of my black boxer briefs. “You like my ass too much.”

  “We will be late, if you don’t both move your ass,” Cari snaps from the doorway, giving us a pointed stare, her lips twitching in a small smile.

  As we sit on the 747, with Cari a few seats over, Dimitri leans into me. We’re in public and this is different. New. I’m used to our isolated bubble. I’ve got a few emails from KP underlying the danger that we’re in and how we have to say safe. But until I was sitting here, watching Jeb scan the crowds, it didn’t really sink in.

  “Do you think we’re safe?” I ask, cutting off whatever Dimitri was going to say. His expression shifts, goes serious in a heartbeat and he reaches for me before he stops himself.

  We’re in public.


  “We’re perfect, babe. Jeb is here. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  I frown at him, distracted. “I’m not worried about me, you idiot,” I say, and he blinks at me.

  "You're worried about me?"

  He says it like it's ludicrous, like the idea that I'd be concerned with him is so outlandish he never even considered it.

  Which.

  "Dimitri, of course I'm worried about you. You've got some random psychos threatening to hurt you because you left Vic. Why the hell would I worry about me in this situation?"

  "You're being held prisoner in your house because of my crazy fans, and you’re okay with that?"

  "I'm not okay with either of us being threatened. But am I okay with being safe to keep you safe? Yeah. Of course." I wave a hand. "This isn't safe. I don't like it."

  He's staring at me still. Like I’m some kind of revelation. His eyes are impossibly soft, and his fingers, wrapped around his arm rest, twitch.

  "I love you," he almost breathes, so soft it's lost in the noise of the plane.

  I nod, and smile. And try not to think of all the things that could hurt him and how I want to kiss him so badly it aches deep inside my gut.

  Chapter 14.

  Camden Martin, in an interview cross posted to Fractured Realms.

  Cari and I grew up together. On set, and when the cameras turned off. We were two kids who fell in love with this thing so much bigger than us, and that’s never gone away. We still love it. We still love each other. We’re older now, and I like to think we’re smarter, but the fact is. We’re together. We’re family. It’s not just a thing we say because it sounds good to the fans or the network. It’s who we are.

  --

  I’ve met the Martins before. Crystal, Cam’s little sister, spent two weeks on set with us my first season, before Cam nailed down the reason she was really there—a failed exam—and sent her home with a hug and a promise to visit soon, and a stern warning to ‘fucking talk to Dad’.

  I spent a short three days with Cam there, during a brief hiatus last season, when Vic was busy in studio and I was too bored to stay in Vancouver.

  I knew that the Martins were smart, and sweet, and absolutely in love with Cari. So I try hard to not let it bother me as I follow Cam and Cari into a private room in the back and hang back, almost ignored, while they sweep Cam and Cari up into their almost violent embrace.

  It’s sweet and it reminds me what I love about the Martins, but it also stings a little. Because I’m on the outside, and I want to be the one holding Cam’s hand. I want to be the one Crystal is eyeing speculatively, like she’s trying to decide if she still likes this pseudo-in-law.

  Cari catches me looking at them and her eyebrow arches a little.

  Are you okay?

  I nod silently and offer up a small grin, and then Mrs. Martin is drawing me into an exuberant hug. “Dimitri, I’m so glad you came out with Cari and Cam. I haven’t seen you in ages.” I flush a little and she pats my cheek. “Is Cam treating you alright?”

  Inexplicably, all I can think of is Cam crouched between my thighs, lifting my hips up to meet his mouth.

  I clear my throat and banish the image. “He’s been wonderful, ma’am.” She makes a low pleased noise and I smile at her. Across the table, standing near his father and brother, Camden is watching me.

  I expect worry, but all I see is this kind of pleased contentment that startles me. He keeps looking at me like that, with this softness that leaves me almost breathless.

  I don’t know what to do with it. I like it almost as much as I’m scared of it.

  “So, Dimitri,” Crystal says, sinking down into the chair next to me. Cari is between me and Mrs. Martin, and Jeb is on the end, watching with that patient look I know so well, while Camden sits with his father and brother across from us. I feel his foot nudge mine and resist the urge to push back, because I’m sitting at a table full of his family and they’re in love with the girl they think he’s dating.

  I won’t be the one to crush that for them.

  “Tell me about Victor Vanes.”

  Camden tenses, but no one seems to notice but me.

  Check that, Cari does, but she doesn’t push. “Um. I think you’ve probably heard we broke up,” I say, my lips dry.

  “Why?” Crystal says, leaning closer.

  “People grow apart,” I shrug, and reach for my glass.

  “Not you. You were legendary—“

  “Fuck, Crystal, leave it alone. They broke up. It’s personal and he doesn’t want to talk about it!” Camden breaks in, his voice too sharp and loud in the room. I blink at him, and then throw a quick look at Crystal.

  I expect to find her scowling, or hurt.

  What I don’t expect is the smug smile on her face, or the way she immediately backs off.

  She offers me an apologetic smile, and says, easily, "Sorry, Dimitri. I don't mean to pry."

  I can feel the table watching us, and Camden's concern crackling like a live wire of tension, but I shove it all aside and answer her smile with one of my own. A little weak, but there.

  "No harm done."

  The waitress arrives then, and for a few minutes, we're absorbed in ordering drinks and appetizers, and I tug her to me. "I'm taking care of the check. Don't let them argue, please."

  She nods politely before slipping away and I find Crystal watching me again. Camden's foot is still nudging mine every once in a while, but he's listening to Seth talking about his daughter, his entire face lit up with wonder, and I know he's not really worried about me.

  "You'll be careful, won't you?" she asks, and I glance at her. Crystal frowns at her brother, and runs a nervous finger over her fork, before she looks at me.

  "You'll make sure you don't hurt him?"

  For a panicked moment, I want to deny it. Want to deny that there is any way I could hurt him.

  But then I see the shaky trust in her gaze, and the lower lip that quivers just a little in the low lighting, like she actually cares about this, and I can see the sister Camden adores, the one who fights like hell to appear older than she is, and hates to be doted on by Camden, but who is fierce in protecting him.

  She looks at me, anxious. "Don't hurt him."

  "How did you know?" I ask.

  She smiles. "He never loved Cari. Not that way. He looks at her like he looks at me. Like a little sister who needs to be taken care of." She frowns a little, and then shrugs. "He looks at you like the world spins around you."

  I blink, and then glance at Camden, where he's laughing at something Seth said. He glances at me, a wide happy smile on his face.

  And I nod. "I won't hurt him, Crystal."

  The elevator is empty when we ride it, later, and he leans against me. I’m starving. Most of my dinner was left on the plate at the restaurant when I got tugged into a conversation with Crystal and then Mrs. Martin.

  I wasn’t going to complain. They liked me, and Camden was smiling from across the table, loose and happy and a little drunk.

  “Crystal knows.” I murmur, rolling my face to press into his shoulder and inhaling the scent of him. He’s a little sweaty and smells faintly of travel, but he still smells like Camden, and it’s comforting after the ridiculously long day. He looks down at me and shrugs a little, jostling me. “You tell her?”

  “She already knew,” I say. “Apparently you look at Cari like you look at a sister.” I give him a small smile. “She’d know.”

  He snorts, and nudges me away as the elevator comes to a slow stop. My stomach rumbles and he glances at me. “Food, shower, sleep?”

  I hum an agreement, and trail him sleepily toward my room. At the door, I lean against his back as he fumbles with my keycard and finally, finally, we’re inside, and the dark is intoxicating and tempting. I press harder into him, slipping a hand around his waist.

  “Dee,” he groans, rolling his hips into my hand when I brush against his cock.

  “Hmm?”

  “Go get in the dam
n shower,” he orders and I laugh against him. Give his dick a quick, promising squeeze. And then I let him go and saunter off.

  “What the fuck do you want to eat?” He grins at me.

  There’s a packet of info from Covenant on my desk near the room service menu and I glance at it while I reach for the folder.

  “The Cajun pasta, and a shrimp cocktail,” I say and Camden makes a face. I laugh and flip through the packet. Standard information, with my schedule and the card for my handler. Nothing new or exciting.

  A thin manila envelop is on the table under the packet. I open it and pull out a small stack of pictures.

  A thin chain with a thick ring swings out, landing with a metallic clatter, and my gut pitches, wildly.

  Fuck.

  The pictures are of me. A lifetime ago, with girls whose name I’ve forgotten. A few boys. And Victor. Always, with Victor. My hands are shaking, and from very far away, I can hear someone calling my name, and then Camden’s hands are on me, jerking me around to stare at him, and he looks terrified.

  I stare at him, and all I can see is those fucking pictures. Me and Vic, so damn young and happy. And my face, scratched out.

  My stomach lurches, and I jerk away from him, scrambling to the bathroom to throw up, messy and loud, in the toilet.

  He’s still there, his voice soft and soothing, his hands warm on my shoulders and I shudder. Shaking apart under his hands.

  “Call KP. I know who this is,” I say, my face still hanging over the toilet, spit clinging to my lips, the acrid scent of vomit making my stomach heave again.

  “Dimitri,” Camden says, worried.

  “Just do it,” I whisper.

  KP is awake. Of course, she is. She isn’t at the con, but has several of her staff here, and she’s monitoring it. So when Camden calls, she’s on the line within a few minutes.

  “Dimitri,” she says when I come out of the bathroom. I still feel shaky, and I’m ignoring the pile of photos and that damn ring, but I can face her. I can face this.