Off the Air

by L.H. Cosway

  “Do I need to remind you of all the times I’ve beat you?”

  He arched an eyebrow, the sparkle of challenge in his eyes. “I’ve beaten you just as many. Besides, I’m taller. You might need my help reaching between the ledges.”

  Now I scowled, because he was right. Paul and I had practiced with him going first for this very reason. It was just that giving Cal any kind of power over me felt like swallowing acid.

  “Fine, you go first.”

  He appeared pleased but knew me well enough not to gloat about it. Instead he replied, “Linda’s right about the two of us being in sync though. I think it has to do with how well we fuck.”

  “Oh, Christ, can you shut up?” I did my best not to blush. Also, wasn’t he aware that the cameras were rolling? Was he actively trying to get us fired?

  He leaned close and lowered his voice to a whisper. “You know it’s true.”

  I adjusted the microphone at my neck and endeavoured to ignore him. Cal turned to the camera and explained the stunt we were about to do, while I took several deep breaths in and out to centre myself. Michaela appeared with a bottle of water, and I thanked her before taking a long gulp.

  “Good luck out there,” she said.

  I shot her a grin. “If I need luck, I’m in the wrong business.”

  She chuckled as I got ready to climb out onto the window ledge.

  “We’ll be pairing up to climb full circle around the building,” Cal said. “No safety equipment, just our feet, hands, and pure determination.”

  Out of all of us, Cal and Trev were the showmen. They knew how to work a camera, how to mould our stunts into a narrative that was enjoyable for viewers to watch. However, where Trev came across funny and amiable, Cal sometimes seemed cocky and overconfident.

  I knew it was a front, that deep down he had a heart. He did care a lot for his mum, after all. When we were together, I got to experience his caring side firsthand. It was a side not many people witnessed. Cal would do little favours for me, like bringing me food after a workout or giving me lifts home after a long day of filming. It didn’t sound like much, but sometimes it was the little things that counted.

  It was too bad we were both so argumentative and stubborn or we might’ve actually been perfect for each other.

  Okay, that thought could get out of my head right now.

  I forced myself back to the present.

  Jimbo, one of the film crew, followed Cal and me as we climbed through the window and out onto the ledge. Cal went first, then held out his hand to help me through. I ignored it and climbed out by myself. James and Trev were on the floor below us, and Isaac and Paul on the floor below them. The loud, obnoxious buzz of the drone cam filled my ears as it hovered nearby, capturing us from an angle the camera crew couldn’t reach.

  “Whatever you do, don’t look down,” Cal said.

  His warning only made my self-destructive side want to do it more. I glanced down quickly, felt a wobble of trepidation at the dramatic drop, then closed my eyes and centred myself again. I pressed my hand against the concrete and took several calming breaths.

  “You okay?” Cal asked, his voice gentler now.

  “Y-yes.”

  “I told you not to look down.”

  “You know whatever you say I’m going to do the opposite.” And weirdly, I enjoyed the fear. I liked the idea that my skill was the only thing that could get me through this.

  Cal’s voice held a hint of amusement. “How could I forget. You ready for this?”

  I opened my eyes and found his green ones peering down at me. For some reason, they gave me courage. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Barry counted us down from three, and we started climbing. I couldn’t help admiring Cal’s athleticism as he pulled himself across to the next ledge. Again, he reached a hand out to help me and I ignored it, demonstrating that I could climb from ledge to ledge perfectly well all on my own. I had to stretch my body to the max to bridge the gap, and it was hell on my arms and legs, but I managed it all the same.

  I’d always been a climber. Even when I was little, I’d scaled trees and high walls, giving my parents heart attacks every time. Mum used to call me a “danger baby” because I was forever pulling stunts.

  Cal and I managed the next ten or so ledges with little trouble. I started to get tired, but I knew my second wind would come. It always did. When I saw the finish line, something inside me kicked into gear.

  “I love it when you get that look in your eye.” Cal paused to catch his breath.

  I glanced at him. “What look?”

  “You know the one. When you’re determined to win. We’re already three ledges ahead of everyone else.”

  “Let’s keep going then.” I drew in a deep inhale as I readied myself.

  “Wait,” Cal said, and I paused as he reached out to touch my wrist strap. Some of the Velcro had come loose. His fingers slid against mine, and the feel of his skin, however small, made my heart race for a reason completely unrelated to the climb. His look was tender, and something about it caught me off guard.

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling a momentary rush of solidarity. Right now we were just two people working as a team not to fall to our deaths.

  All the rivalry and arguments fell by the wayside, our bet was nothing but a far-off, abstract concept as we worked to make it to the finish line. Onlookers below cheered their encouragement. Inside the apartments, people smiled and waved from the windows as we went past. Above us, other people with their windows open, stared down in awe.

  I knew what they were thinking, Who are these crazy Brits, and why are they trying to kill themselves? If any one of us fell right now, we’d be done for. It was a good thing we trained every day of our lives for stunts just like this one.

  When we reached the final ledge, Cal stopped and gestured for me to go ahead. “Go on. Be first to the finish. You know you want to.”

  “No thanks. I only enjoy victories that I’ve won fair and square.”

  Cal’s eyes crinkled at the edges in a smile. “Still stubborn as ever.”

  He pulled himself to the last ledge, and I followed. We were incredibly high up, but this time instead of looking down, I looked up at the sky and breathed deeply, unable to help the grin on my face.

  “We did it,” Cal exclaimed, surprising me when he pulled me into a hug. He held me tight to the side of his body, and for a second, I let myself enjoy his warmth.

  “Get off,” I complained, hating how he could tell I liked his closeness. I was so transparent sometimes. A few moments passed between us as we watched the others finish their climb.

  “I bet the stars look incredible here at night,” I blurted.

  Cal’s face went sultry. “Maybe we should come back later. Just the two of us.”

  Great. He was back to trying to win the bet. I wished he’d let it go, just for a couple of hours at least, so I could enjoy what we’d just achieved.

  “Nice try,” I said and climbed back through the window. Michaela was there to meet us, alongside several members of the film crew. She handed us bottles of energy drinks and congratulated us on our win.

  Cal nudged me with his shoulder. “We should team up more often.”

  “I think once a season is enough for me,” I shot back and headed downstairs to see Paul.

  Yes, I was being cold, but it was necessary. There was a lot at stake here and I couldn’t afford to let my defences down for a second.

  Back at the house, a dinner of stew and freshly baked bread waited for us in the dining room. A bunch of the film crew had decided to eat out, so it was mostly the cast who gathered at the long table. I took a seat next to Michaela. James and Neil sat on the other side of me, while Trev, Paul, Isaac, and Cal sat on the opposite side of the table. Cal was directly across from me, which made it very near impossible not to look at him.

  “You need to quit opening the window in our bedroom at night,” James complained to Cal. “I was covered in mosquito bites this
morning.”

  “Is that where they came from? A bunch of them flew into our room too,” Trev said.

  “I was hot, and the air conditioning took forever to kick in,” Cal replied defensively. “I couldn’t sleep with the heat.”

  “That’s a terribly selfish approach,” Paul said. “We’ll all be covered in bites just so you can sleep better.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be selfish. I forgot about the mosquitoes,” Cal admitted.

  “You’re a wheat eater. It’s not your fault,” Paul said.

  Cal shot him an amused look. “Is that some sort of obscure put-down?”

  Paul shook his head. “There’s a theory about the cultural differences between the East and the West. It’s based on their main sources of carbohydrates. But I won’t bore you with the details.”

  “No, go ahead, enlighten us,” Cal encouraged. He rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers.

  I could see Paul’s complaint bothered him more then he wanted to admit. Selfish was something he got labelled with a lot in the group, so this was a sore spot for him. Cal was the only one of us who’d been raised an only child, and he displayed certain behaviours that showed it, i.e. not wanting to share things, complaining about not having his own bedroom when we travelled, etc. It was clear he was trying to do better, which even I could admit was kind of admirable.

  “Well,” Paul said, “there are distinct differences in how we cultivate rice as compared to wheat. Rice requires a complex irrigation system, and one farmer’s use of water can affect the next. It’s a group effort. Rice growers have to consider the whole community of farms, not just their own. Growing wheat, on the other hand, is a lot easier. You just need rainfall. You don’t need to rely on the people who own the next farm over.”

  “I didn’t know you were so into farming,” James commented.

  “I’m not,” Paul replied. “I just find this particular theory interesting. Some people believe the growing techniques led to cultural differences. In Eastern countries where they eat more rice, like China, collectivism is much more prevalent. Whereas in the West where we eat a lot of wheat, we’re very individualistic. We put ourselves first and everyone else comes second.” He paused then addressed Cal. “This, essentially, is what I meant when I called you a wheat eater. You can’t help being selfish. It’s ingrained in the culture you were raised in.”

  “Oh, and where were you raised? Timbuktu?” Cal retorted.

  “No, obviously not,” Paul replied evenly. “But I read a lot of Chinese and Eastern philosophies.”

  “Sometimes I think if you’d been around in the seventies, you would’ve been one of those hippies who travelled from town to town, teaching people about peace and love, and eventually starting your own cult,” I teased.

  Paul slurped up some broth before pointing his spoon at me. “The only difference between a cult and a religion is time and money. Cults aren’t my thing, but I think it’d be cool to have my own religion,” he mused.

  “Well, apparently gingers are dying out,” James said. “Maybe one day people will start worshipping redheads because they’re so rare.”

  Paul grinned. “Okay, it’s been decided. I now declare myself your redheaded God. Feel free to worship at the altar of my ginger-ness.”

  I laughed then reached across the table, grabbed one of the open bottles of wine and poured a large glass. The wine here was amazing, and I’d been drinking quite a bit of it tonight. When I put the bottle back down, I noticed Cal watching me and remembered that idiotic diary cam I’d recorded. Probably best to make this glass my last one.

  Cal fingered the pendant around his neck, the one I bought for him.

  “Why do you still wear that?” I asked, my voice deceptively casual. “It really doesn’t suit you at all. I don’t know why I ever bought it.”

  He arched an eyebrow, a curious tilt to his mouth. “What do you care if I wear it? It’s just a piece of jewellery.”

  “You should give it back,” I went on, unable to hide my annoyance. Yes, I sounded immature, but Cal used that pendant as a way of getting to me. He used it to show he hadn’t let go of what we used to have.

  “It was a gift. You don’t return gifts,” Cal said, lifting his glass to take a leisurely sip.

  I lowered my voice and eyed him keenly. “We both know you only wear it to taunt me.”

  Cal sat back, his posture relaxed. “You’re wrong. I wear it because I’m fond of it, and I’m not giving it back.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to wait until you take it off at night, then I’ll sneak into your room and steal it.”

  “I don’t take it off at night, so good luck with that. But feel free to sneak into my room any time.” Infuriatingly, he winked.

  I made a disgruntled noise in the back of my throat and endeavoured to finish my meal as quickly as possible. Cal didn’t stop watching me, and I grew self-conscious under his quiet observation. He surprised me when he leaned forward, his hand resting on the table just a few inches from mine. His eyes started at my chest then rose slowly up to my mouth. On instinct, I wet my lips.

  Cal spoke low, so only I could hear. “You want the truth?”

  I put my glass down and tried not to let the wine in my system and the way he looked at me sway my judgement. “What truth?”

  “About the pendant,” he clarified. “I wear it because it reminds me of a time when I was happiest.”

  My pulse thrummed as his words sank in. All of a sudden I felt way too hot, and there was an itch under my skin that wouldn’t quit. When I finally looked at him again, he stared me down, almost challenging me to respond.

  Oh, to hell with not drinking. If I had to endure this level of frustration, then I deserved a drink. Or several. I snatched the wine bottle, stood from the table and marched upstairs to my room.

  Once there, I refilled my glass, grabbed the video camera and hit the ‘on’ button. Barry instructed us to make a short diary entry at the end of each day, going over what we did, how we were feeling, etc. Well, it turned out I had some feelings to get off my chest.

  I got comfy on the bed then held the camera up in front of me, selfie style. “Hey, so today we ran at Ponte City. It’s one of the tallest buildings we’ve ever filmed in, and I definitely had a touch of vertigo once or twice. Guess I should’ve taken Cal’s advice when he told me not to look down. Speaking of which, he’s been driving me absolutely crazy these last few days. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more conceited, full of himself, cocky…”

  I trailed off, my irritation wavering. Cal might’ve been cocky, but I was a bitch to him tonight. I couldn’t deny it. If he’d given me a gift during our relationship then asked for it back, I’d be more than a little pissed off. Yet he’d been calm, measured even. Also, his words from back in the dining room just wouldn’t get out of my head.

  I wear it because it reminds me of a time when I was happiest.

  Just like that, I was plunged into the past, and no amount of wine could dull the memories.

  Six

  Callum

  Three and a half years ago

  Reykjavik, Iceland

  “I bet I can beat you to the roof of this building,” Leanne challenged, facing me as she walked backward down the street.

  I advanced like a man possessed, while her cute, pixie-like face grinned with mischief. I wanted to grab her and kiss her. Too bad the cameras were rolling. I ran my gaze over her short black hair, a style I’d once considered boyish but now found sexy as fuck. I especially liked how it showcased her smooth neck. It just made me want to, I don’t know, bite her or something.

  “Not if I catch you first,” I countered, and just like that the bet was on.

  Leanne turned around and pulled herself up onto a wall at the back of a coffeehouse. In the blink of an eye, she was scaling the building, leaving me standing there with my dick in my hand.

  Metaphorically speaking.

  I hopped the wall and climbed to the next level.<
br />
  The cameras could only film us from a distance now, but we both still wore our first-person cameras. We were in Iceland filming a Christmas special that would air later in the year. Leanne and I decided to wander off for a little bit, but unfortunately, two of the crew had come along with us, which meant I couldn’t kiss or touch her like I wanted to.

  I caught up to Leanne, but not in time to beat her to the roof. I made use of the divots in the corrugated steel, wedging each foot in between them for grip.

  “I win.” Leanne smiled wide.

  I bowed to her, conceding defeat.

  “I’d love to live here,” she went on. “The air is so fresh and crisp.”

  “You say that now. In the winter it snows constantly and there are only a few hours of daylight.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, maybe not. I think I’d go mad cooped up indoors all the time.”

  I stared at her, again feeling that intense need to kiss her. The past few months we’d been sleeping together in secret. Since filming for the show had been practically constant, all we had were stolen, rushed moments and horny looks.

  Her cheeks were flushed now. Not breaking eye contact, I reached up to turn off my first-person camera and switched off my microphone. I did the same with Leanne’s, then ran a hand down her soft, warm cheek. I liked the way she trembled at my touch, those bright blue eyes staring up at me, infinitely fascinated with all the ways I turned her on. I liked how she made me feel powerful and in control, but also chaotic and out of control at the same time.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered, as though the film crew below could hear us.

  Only Jimbo and Celine could climb as well as we could. Luckily those two were off following the others right now.

  “Kissing you like I’ve wanted to do all bloody day.” I lowered my mouth to hers.

  She gasped into the kiss, and I wrapped my arms around her. For some reason, it felt like I could never hold her tight enough. I slid my tongue along hers, coaxing her to open up to me. I was wild for her, and it wasn’t just physical. I craved her smiles and her smart mouth, her snappy comebacks, and musical laughter. Most days we were surrounded by people, and all I wanted to do was take her back to my place so we could hang out, just be ourselves in a setting where we weren’t always being observed.