Secret Things

by Andrews, Nazarea

  I stare at her, and it occurs to me, for the first time.

  I’m dealing with a fucking insane person.

  Which. Wonderful. That’s great.

  “What do you want?” I ask, my voice tight.

  She blinks, cocking her head. “I want Victor to be happy.”

  When I stare at her, blankly, she smiles. “Can I tell you a story?”

  I don’t think she’s actually looking for a response. She walks into the room and settles at the edge of the bed.

  “When I was fifteen, we moved to Hardaway. I hated it. Small, fucking town in the middle of nowhere. And I loathed it. I hated the people, and I hate the endless corn fields, and I hate the stupid, smallness of it all. I hated my mother for dragging me there, and I hated the town for being itself. And then a few weeks before school started, I met Victor.”

  She smiles at me, this dreamy, almost terrifying thing. “He was so nice, you know? We hung out and he was funny and nice and I didn’t know who he was or that he mattered. I just knew he was this guy who for whatever reason, was nice to me. We went on a couple dates, and then school started.”

  “He met Dimitri the second day of class, and it’s like he forgot I existed. Dimitri was…he’s like this force of nature, and Victor is like the ocean, impossibly deep and unknowable, and when the two clashed, it created this gorgeous, unstoppable thing.”

  “Huh. Sounds like you were a fan.”

  She shrugs, a quick, angry little thing. “I was. Victor was happy. I didn’t like Dimitri, but I got that he was happy.”

  I tug on my cuff and give her a dry sort of look. “Sugar, this doesn’t feel happy.”

  “Dimitri cheated,” she says, patiently. Giving me this look like I’m somehow crazy for not knowing that’s where this was going. “Dimitri left Victor. He isn’t allowed to do that.”

  “Sweetie, the dude is allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants. They aren’t married.”

  “Vic asked, you know. A few years ago. Dimitri was an idiot for saying no.”

  My stomach plummets, because I didn’t know.

  I had no fucking clue.

  “You’re the problem, Camden. You distract him and that just won’t do. So you’ll stay here.”

  “Honey, I’m not why Dimitri and Victor broke up,” I say, my voice shrill despite my best efforts. She gives me this curious look and then shrugs. Shifts.

  I have a second to feel panic, and then pain flares back up my side, and I fall into oblivion.

  Chapter

  The Thousand Loves of Grimm and Anders, originally posted on Fractured Realms

  It happened slow.

  And easy.

  The way rain soaks the ground

  In a slow mist.

  It happened quiet

  And soft,

  The way the grass writhes

  Against the under hill.

  It happened hard

  And cold,

  Stolen in the night,

  Lit with starlight.

  It happened here

  And where the world fractured.

  A thousand lives and

  Futures spun together.

  It happened.

  Slow and sweet,

  Hard and cold,

  An inexorable slide of love between two

  Ancient princes.

  It happened,

  Like this.

  This is how they fell in love.

  --

  “Who the hell is Stevie Romines?” Evans demands.

  “New PA,” Cari says, bland.

  “I hung out with her one summer. She was always at the library where mom was volunteering the summer before I met you.”

  I stare and he shrugs, this big effusive thing. "That's it man, I didn't spend a lot of time with the kid. She was just a sweet kid."

  "That sweet kid kidnapped my fucking boyfriend," I snap. "Maybe quit picking up the damn locals."

  He gives me a face, and Evans raises a hand. "So what do we do?"

  "We figure out what the hell she wants," Cari says, sensibly. "And then we bring Cam home."

  "She wants Victor happy. That's what she's always wanted. Even in high school, what she wanted was Victor to be happy."

  He frowns and I shrug. "That's why she sent me the photos. I was cheating on you and that made you unhappy. When I stopped, she backed off, because you were happy. When we broke up--that was the first time we let the public get even a hint of how bad things were between us. So that's when she started thinking you were unhappy, and Cam is the one who took me from you."

  “How the fuck do you figure that?” Jace demands.

  I shrug. “I’ve had a lot of time over the years wondering.”

  “So what do we do?”

  In the end, we find her. Evans throws a bitch fit that I think might cost me my job, and Cari is angry enough that I know it’ll be a lon,g fucking time before she forgives me, but I get my way.

  I go, with only Victor.

  Jace isn’t any happier than my boss and friend.

  But if I’m right, threats and force and a bunch of people telling her she’s deluded—none of that will work. What will work is Victor talking to her.

  The set is eerie this dead, and I shiver. Victor wraps an arm around my shoulder as we head into one of the buildings, and I see a cluster of people.

  And there she is. Standing a little on the edge, in her big glasses and bright hair tugged back, in ill-fitting clothes and flat shoes and a smile that's too eager, too hopeful.

  The conversation stalls as we approach, and one of the PA's pipes up, "Mr. Blackwood, can we do something for you?"

  Vic slides me an amused smirk and I make a face. I hate when they call me Mr. Blackwood.

  "Actually, I was just wondering if we could borrow Stevie," I say, forcing a smile.

  There's a beat of silence, and then they exchange quick, startled stares.

  Stevie is new, and that I'm asking for her by name would be a big fucking deal, on our little set, if she was gonna be here Monday morning.

  She won't. But they don't need to know that yet.

  "What can I do for you?" she asks, following us away from the others.

  "Do you want to get coffee?" I ask, inanely. "I would kill for an espresso."

  She gives me a curious stare, and shrugs. "I can find you one. Victor, would you like anything?"

  "I'd like to talk to you," he says, gently.

  This girl doesn't deserve gentle.

  She doesn't deserve anything but maybe me screaming at her, demanding to know what the actual fuck she's done with Camden.

  How the hell did this tiny thing take down my big boyfriend?

  "You don't need to talk to me, Victor. You need to talk to him. And look, you're here. He's here. The set is closed. It's perfect. Spend some time together."

  "Did you plan this?" I demand, my voice shaking. "Trapping us here, so we'd be forced to talk. Did you fucking plan it?"

  "Dimitri," Vic snaps, his voice whip sharp and I swallow hard, swallow the furious anger threatening to choke me.

  Stevie stares at me, this curious expression on her face, like she's trying to figure me out and isn't quite able to.

  "I didn't plan anything, Dimitri. I didn't want anything, except to see you and Victor happy."

  "I am happy," I almost yell. She makes a small face, almost apologetic.

  "You think so. But Victor has made you happy for twelve years. You just need to find each other again and you'll be fine." She nods, smiling, this self-satisfied little thing, and I stare at her. Shaken. Because how the fuck do you reason with this kind of crazy?

  "Stevie," Vic says and her gaze swings to him, impossibly bright and hopeful. "Sweetie, you want me to be happy, right?"

  She nods earnestly. "More than anything."

  "What makes me happy are my friends, baby girl. Dimitri. Jace. The band. Carissa." He hesitates, and then, "And Camden."

  Stevie frowns. "Camden is a distraction for Dimitri," she
insists.

  "Camden is my friend, Stevie. He makes me happy."

  Her frown deepens. "I don't know what you want," she says, a pout twisting her lips down. Vic steps closer to her and a pretty, large part of me wants to pull him back, because I see the way she lights up, the way her whole body leans into him.

  The girl is fucking insane.

  "Baby girl. Bring him home, okay? Nothing bad will happen to you. And I'll be happy."

  She bites her lip, "You haven't been. You've been sad, Vic. I don't like it."

  "I know, sweetie," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "But I'm not happy right now. Right now the only thing that makes me sad is Cam isn't here. Will you fix that?"

  She closes her eyes and leans into the hand he's feathering down her cheek. Her whole body does this shudder that makes me irrationally angry.

  "Yeah," she whispers. "Yeah, I'll fix it."

  I don't actually believe her. I want to go with her, and Victor has to physically hold me back when she slips into an ugly gray sedan and drives away. I stare at it until I can't see it anymore, and Victor's arms are all that's holding me up. And even then, I can't seem to stop shaking.

  He is comforting and familiar and I lean into him as the light fades and I shake with fear.

  It's hours later. So fucking long that I think Evans is ready to call the cops and Victor is beginning to doubt his trust in the crazy girl, and I'm not even scared anymore. I'm just numb. I sit on the little couch we tucked into the corner, the one that smells like Camden because he likes to sleep here where it's darkest in the trailer. A cup of coffee sits forgotten on the floor next to it, left there from the last time he was here.

  Cari is sleeping in Andre's lap, which is fucking strange, but I don't have the energy to figure out what the hell is happening between the princess and her bodyguard.

  So when the voice comes, it's startling and for a few seconds, I don't believe it. It’s a dream or some fucking hallucination.

  "Vic?"

  He curses, and that shakes me out of my daze.

  When the door slams open, Stevie is standing there, and --

  I make a noise, this low choked thing, and he jerks, like he's been hit. Shoves past Stevie and Vic, slipping a little as he scrambles into the trailer and over the tile that always gets slippery when it's wet. He's bruised and dirty and there's blood on his face that makes me see red, his clothes smell like fucking hell, but he's here.

  Camden slams into me, his weight shoving me down, into the fucking couch and I sob, burying my face in his shoulder, and I fucking lose it.

  All of the anger and fear, all of it comes pouring out as I sob into his shoulder.

  From very far away, I can hear the others slipping out, can hear Evans and Vic talking to Stevie and her shrill voice getting more and more panicked. I can see the impression of flashing lights.

  But it's very far away.

  "Almost lost you," I whisper.

  "Not a chance in hell," he murmurs back, shifting so that he's sitting on the couch and I'm in his lap. I should probably crawl off, because he's moving gingerly, like he took a beating, and I wouldn't be surprised. But when I make a very half-hearted attempt, his grip tightens, and he makes a noise, low and protesting, in his throat, and I sigh, snuggling closer.

  The rest of the world will need to be handled, probably sooner than either of us wants. But for the moment, he's here, and I--

  "I love you," he whispers. I go still. "And I don't give a fuck who knows. I want everyone to know. My parents. Our fans. The fucking president. I don't care, Dimitri. I don't give a fuck about any of it. I just...I love you. And I don't want you to leave me because I'm scared of being out."

  I lean back. Stare at him. "I'm not leaving you, you idiot."

  "I'd get it, if you did."

  I make a noise, and his eyes go bright and warm before I kiss him. The rest of the world is waiting. For interviews and explanations, for sound bites and smiles, and everything else that goes with being so damn public. They'll want to take us apart, and put us back together--all the shit I went through with Vic, but worse, because it's new and shiny and so damn complicated.

  He licks into my mouth with a low groan, clutching my hip, drawing me closer, and I shove the thought aside.

  The rest of the world is waiting.

  But they can fucking wait a little while longer.

  Epilogue

  Originally posted on Fractured Realms Message Boards.

  @GrimmlySisters_: So filming shut down. Has that ever happened on Fractal?

  @PrincessCariUnderhallow: No. Even that time Cari broke her ankle doing a stunt? They still filmed.

  @CecilePerez: Filming was cancelled for one day at the request of @EvansHurtz. More details forthcoming.

  @BlackdenismyOTP: Did we want to talk about Cam’s new bruises because um, wtaf?

  --

  It takes a week to settle down.

  And it’s not easy. It’s not like Stevie brings me back and drops me off and that’s it, everything’s fucking happy and sunshine and roses.

  I kinda wish it was.

  More than kinda.

  But there’s the cops to deal with, the crazy fucker who decided kidnapping me was the best way to get her favorite celebs back together, and the kinda startling realization that this is my life.

  Being with Dee, being out, being in the spotlight.

  This is part of it.

  It’s easy to think that it’s just quiet days in our house, secret and hidden from the world. That it’s walking Gil and Zed and making cookies with Cari and getting drunk with Tristan. That we’re isolated and insulated, but we’re not.

  We’re right here, wide open to be picked apart, and that terrifies me.

  Although, accidentally coming out should always be followed by getting kidnapped by a crazy person. By the time I explained what the hell happened to my family, no one gave a shit who I fucked, as long as I was in one piece.

  That might change when we went on break in a week or so and I dragged Dimitri home with me.

  But I was going to enjoy it for the moment.

  Stevie was arrested. I think that happened before Dimitri quit crying, but Victor was weirdly attached to the girl. He insisted she needed help, and not jail—he and Dee got into a huge fight about it that only ended when Jace dragged the singer away, and I held the shaking man in my arms until he finally muttered, “I hate her.”

  I didn’t blame him much for that.

  The hardest part wasn’t the nightmares that started the night I came home. It wasn’t the way everyone gave me nervous and pitying stares on set, until Dee snarled at them and I did a particularly stupid stunt that made Rick laugh his ass off before he took my spot and got tossed around set for a while.

  It wasn’t my mother crying or my brother’s kind of stiff, “I just want you to be happy,” or even Dimitri’s mother, clucking over me and giving me ridiculously inappropriate advice about her son.

  It was Cari and Dimitri.

  She was quiet, in a way I hadn’t seen in her since that first day we met, when we were both a couple of lost kids on a set of a crazy idea.

  I’m not used to Cari looking lost, or feeling fragile when I reach for her. It’s kinda terrifying.

  I crawl in her bed one night, while Dimitri is arguing with Victor about the wisdom of trying to get Stevie mental health. She goes still next to me, and I burrow into her side, until she finally relents and runs quiet fingers through my hair.

  “You scared me,” she says, softly.

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “You ran.”

  I don’t answer. Because I did, and if I hadn’t, maybe none of this would have happened, maybe I wouldn’t have two burn marks on my side, maybe the set wouldn’t feel so fucking fragile, maybe we would have skipped all of this.

  Or maybe it would have been worse, when Stevie finally acted.

  Her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling me back, just hard enough that my eyes sti
ng and I want to fight her. She does this sometimes, and it doesn’t surprise me anymore, but it always startles me.

  “Don’t do it again,” she orders, her voice very cold.

  I nod, as much as possible while she grips me tight and immobile.

  “You’re happy?” she asks and when I nod again, her grip loosens and she smiles, this sweet thing that is every inch my best friend.

  “Good. Now get out of my bed and go find his.”

  I lean up and kiss her cheek, and then do just that.

  Dimitri has been especially affectionate since it happened. He finds reasons to be near me, at home and on set, and if he’s near me, he’s touching me.

  Except when we’re in bed.

  Then, he keeps his touches soft and light, and it’s been driving me slowly crazy.

  Everyone, even Carissa, is accepting what happened and moving on. And yes, he wakes me up when my nightmares come, but I’m not broken.

  I’m not damaged.

  I lay in bed, reading a scrip my agent sent that I’ll ignore, because as long as Fractal Ends is on the air, I’m not really interested in pursuing other lead roles. Strange as our little show is, I’m committed to it.

  “Stevie pled guilty at her arraignment. She’s going to an institute for the criminally insane.”

  I let the script flap closed and study Dee.

  “Are you okay with that?”

  He shrugs and refuses to look at me. “I don’t want her to hurt you again.”

  “She won’t,” I murmur, trying to get him to look up. He doesn’t. He stares at the fucking sheet that he’s tugged up over his boxers.

  “Dimitri,” I whisper and he finally, finally, looks at me.

  I have a single second to take in the terror in his eyes, the wide searching helplessness, and then I’m crashing into him. I hook a hand behind his neck and drag him into a kiss, and when it’s not enough, I drag him over me, until we’re pressed against each other, his weight pressing me into the bed, miles of skin warm against my own. He whispers my name, and I nip at his lip, and then suck on it, licking over the sting and fucking my tongue into his mouth. One hand is tight in his hair. Holding him where I want him as I take everything I want, everything he’s been too afraid to give me. The other hand moves slow, almost lazy, over the expanse of his back, nails biting just a little, trailing down, and dipping under his boxers, finding the crease of his ass and smoothing down it. He moans into my kiss as I press a finger against him, his hips canting toward me.