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Starboys Page 9

by Jeremy Jenkins


  My inner turmoil gave way to anxiety as I padded down the extravagant hallway and went through a grand pair of oaken double doors.

  This was undeniably the throne room. There were long windows that were letting in rainbow-colored light. It swirled on the floor in intricate designs. At the back of the room was a grand chair — a beautiful golden throne.

  My footsteps echoed in the empty, church-like chamber as I made my way toward it, and I was suddenly overcome with the feeling of being watched.

  Pausing, I took a glance around. There was no one in here. I was alone.

  With each step, I felt like static was increasing in intensity on my skin. Even though I knew that I could move around the castle between sets as I pleased, it still felt like I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to do.

  That sent a thrill through me.

  I approached the throne, turned, and sat in it.

  I didn’t know if it was my imagination running wild or what, but sitting here I felt stronger; more confident. This was clearly a place of power.

  Now that I had a moment alone, I allowed myself to comb through the events of the past week. My life had changed so quickly and so much had happened — it felt like everything was going a mile a minute. But despite everything, all I could fixate on was the simple fact that I’d been kissed by a movie star.

  I could still feel the electricity on my tongue, crackling like pop rocks. It was as if by kissing me, he was giving me some of his fame.

  And that feeling… that, whatever, was addicting. I couldn’t deny that I wanted more, even if Mason was a complete asshole.

  I slumped sideways in the chair and rested one of my legs on the armrests lazily. For a moment I was lost in the fantasy; pretending I was king. Pretending I had any power whatsoever.

  It felt good. What had Hazel said when I finished her hair?

  Better than sex.

  Power, or at least the illusion of it, did feel better than sex.

  My mind drifted to Hazel. I wondered how she was doing? I longed to hear her advice again… I wanted the comfort of her words to wrap themselves around me and give me wings.

  In my leisure, I began to reexamine everything she had said to me. About finding my “Big Love,” or whatever… and that earth-shattering explosion I’d felt when I first locked eyes with Leo. Could it be him?

  But, I undeniably felt something for Reese too. It was more subtle, but it was more than a crush. And then there was asshole Mason too, and how good that kiss felt…

  I had to wonder if the kiss actually felt that good, or if my memory was stretching it out into something that was out of proportion with reality.

  And then there was that other thing that Hazel said… that thing about me forgiving someone in my past, and then my heartmate would be all up in my business.

  I frowned, still unable to think of anyone in my past that I had grudges against. I’d forgiven all of my exes, and hardly even thought about them anymore. I had a perfectly normal, boring childhood, and didn’t have anything against my parents at all. Bullies in high school? I’d long forgotten about them. They faded to the edges of my memory as soon as I’d moved to L.A.

  So who could it be?

  My thoughts were interrupted as the door at the front of the hall opened.

  I scrambled out of my lazy position in the throne and sat up straight, all of my senses alert.

  The face that appeared from beyond the door was none other than Mason Vayne’s.

  Chapter Nine

  His expression turned into an undeniable look of surprise. “Charlie! What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice thick with suspicion.

  “Having a moment,” I said defensively. “Why, what are you doing here?”

  “What’s it to you?” he asked, raising one of his thick, dark eyebrows.

  “It’s just a question,” I said bravely. “Why, are you sniffing around for secrets again?”

  I was doing everything I could to distract him. To distract myself from this panging, longing want that was swirling within me. His magnetism was too hard to deny, and now that I had a taste of it, all I wanted was to get more.

  The corner of his mouth twitched upward. He must have sensed my desire for him on some level, and he liked that. Even though I was the one sitting on the throne, he was the one with all of the power and he knew it.

  “I don’t have to go looking for secrets, they find me,” he said arrogantly, taking a few steps closer to the throne.

  There was a stirring in my pants again as he got closer. My vision was clouded out by the memory of his lips on mine. There was a longing within me to tell him everything I knew; to give away Alina’s secret in exchange for more of that… that thing that he’d given me with that kiss.

  But I wouldn’t do it.

  “You know something,” he declared, watching me with his icy eyes.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said flatly.

  He laughed, a sound that was more like a purr than anything. “I can always tell when people are lying,” he said, fixing me with those eyes of his. He closed the distance between us and leaned forward, placing both of his hands on the armrests.

  His face was inches from mine. Those blue eyes were swirling with something — desire, control, power, and this coldness that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  “Tell me,” he breathed.

  His breath was sweet and cold, as if he’d just eaten a breath mint.

  All of my senses compelled me to tell him, to give away Alina’s secret. Here was this… this God of a man, promising me things with his body in exchange for one little scrap of information.

  The temptation was almost too much to resist, but in my mind’s eye, I saw Alina’s green gaze, pleading with me not to tell anyone. That gave me the resolve I needed, despite my body aching for him. Even though my cock was hard and was pressing with impressive force against my pants, I knew what I had to do.

  I leaned a few inches forward so there was only about an inch between our faces.

  Mason’s pupils dilated, the pulse of black crowding out the irises.

  “Never,” I whispered.

  He lingered there for a moment, a beautiful man frozen in time.

  I smirked and found my resolve, feeling on some intuitive level that the power had shifted. And it had shifted with such force that Mason was the first to look away.

  “Suit yourself,” he said with an aloof look on his face, withdrawing his promise of whatever thing he was about to give me.

  I crossed my legs, content in my throne and feeling a thousand feet tall. I’d just gone toe-to-toe with the most notoriously charming ladykiller in Hollywood and I’d walked away unscathed. Though nothing had happened on the surface, I couldn’t shake the smug, confident feeling that I’d won something.

  He lazily sat down on the steps next to the throne, and it was like the weird little power struggle never happened.

  I couldn’t help but wonder why he was lingering here, having lost. The only conclusion I could come up with was the fact that I still had something he wanted.

  It was clear that Mason didn’t care about me at all; what he was interested in was the secret I was keeping from him.

  “Why did you come here?” I asked with more confidence in my voice than I felt.

  “Bored,” he answered in a flat voice.

  “Oh, so you go looking for drama when you’re bored?” I asked, letting the words flow out of my mouth smoothly.

  He looked up at me, but now it was different. There was a flash of… something in his eyes, something real underneath the sculpted form of this demigod, but it was gone in a flash. Just like that, he was back to the cocky, arrogant asshole that I’d pegged him for.

  “I’m looking for something, and it’s not drama,” he said, fixing me with this magnetic stare.

  Silence settled between us as I tightened my grip on the armrest. Something passed between us — this intangible energy that shuddered through the
air. I felt like I was about to be ejected out of this chair and straight into his arms.

  I settled down as if I could burrow a hole through this chair and escape.

  Choose love over fear, Hazel’s words insisted.

  I closed my eyes and steeled myself.

  “Did Reese tell you about the scene?” I asked, trying hard to keep my cool.

  “Which one?” he asked with that Cheshire Cat smile, tilting his head to the side.

  “The one with me and you,” I said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, he just told me about that,” Mason said nonchalantly.

  The way that he sort of shrugged it off like that made me feel a little crestfallen. I wanted to matter to him — I wanted him to feel a fraction of this nervous giddiness that was flowing through my body right now. Just to make it even; to make it fair in some way.

  The silence stretched out again, but this time the scales were tipped in his favor. He had all of the control in the room; control over what he said next, and control over how I felt about it.

  I gritted my teeth as he hesitated, hating how he was relishing in the power he had with the delay.

  “Well? What do you think of it?” I asked feebly, uncomfortable.

  “It’s par for the course. Reese always does shit like this…” he said.

  “Have you worked with him before?” I asked.

  “Once,” he said, and suddenly his eyes were far away.

  That word came out in the shape of Pandora’s box; the single syllable hinting at a rabbit hole of secrets and history and lies.

  I raised my eyebrow and waited for him to continue, but there was nothing. For some reason, I thought of how Reese’s hand was on Leo’s shoulder yesterday on the beach, and today after the scene with Alina.

  “Is he going to try anything?” I asked Mason with my mouth going dry, the question hanging in the air.

  “No, he won’t,” Mason replied with sincerity. “You’ve seen the way he… the way he is.”

  “I’ve seen it,” I said, thinking of the way Reese was a true artist in that room, controlling the light and the angles and the perception.

  “We’re just actors to him, shiny chess pieces in a game that he’s coordinating from both sides.”

  I bit my lip, strangely fascinated by Mason’s perception of things. Even though he was disgustingly self-absorbed, that didn’t mean he wasn’t observant.

  “What does that make me, then?” I asked.

  “You’re a pawn,” Mason said with a chuckle.

  I frowned, internally retracting my admiration of him.

  “And what does that make you?” I said, pretending his insult wasn’t getting to me.

  “I’m a bishop,” he said, his eyes glittering with arrogance. “I move diagonally, and I can see things from angles that aren’t visible to any of the other pieces.”

  “Like what?” I challenged.

  There was a shift in the energy of the room as he faltered; thrown off-kilter by my question. “Secrets. I collect them.”

  “I don’t think you have any real secrets,” I egged him on. Something told me that if I kept denying him this power over me, the more he would try to get it, the more he would reveal.

  There was temptation sparkling in his eyes, but then he narrowed them to slits. “It doesn’t matter what you think. You’re only a pawn in this game.”

  I felt a surge of anger and stood up, staring down at him. I was sick and tired of people trying to make me feel less, and here was some arrogant prick trying to chip away at the confidence I’d steadily built up over the past few years.

  “Even though I may be a pawn in all of this, I still see things, Vayne,” I hissed. “And bishops are just as expendable as pawns. Don’t forget that.”

  For once, Mason looked lost for words.

  I turned on my heel and made a beeline for the door, careful not to look back. I couldn’t afford for Mason to see tears leaking from my eyes.

  As I crossed through the hallway with the suits of armor and descended the spiral staircase, I couldn’t help but fume with anger. What the hell was this guy’s problem? And why did I care so much about him calling me a pawn?

  He made me feel unimportant; a feeling that was already burrowing itself into my mind on an hourly basis. It was hard enough to be surrounded by all of these beautiful, perfect movie stars knowing that I was nothing more than a simple stylist. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that I was expendable to this world; that thought already followed me around like a little black cloud.

  But he had to put it to words; he had to say it out loud.

  Did everyone think I was a pawn? I mean it was obvious that I wasn’t as important to this show as the actors, of course.

  Suddenly, I thought of Reese. Did he think I was a pawn? If so, why did he ask me to be in this scene with Mason?

  The way Alina said Reese looked at me… like he saw something in me. Like I could be a part of his vision…

  And Reese didn’t seem like the type of person that would settle for anything less than his vision of perfection.

  That thought gave me some strength.

  By the time I reached the base of the stairs and walked out the castle doors, I’d convinced myself that I wasn’t as expendable as Mason was trying to make me feel. I’d been chosen by Reese.

  The cliff was already cleaned up from the crew earlier and it was like we were never here. Not a speck of garbage was left behind from the dozens of people that were milling about just a few hours ago.

  I glanced at my watch — I still had some time to kill before dinner. The only thing on my agenda was putting as much space in between me and Mason as possible.

  By now, the thought of being naked with him on camera tomorrow caused an unpleasant curdling in my gut, which was somehow still laced with excitement.

  I gritted my teeth at my lack of control. Was it possible to be starstruck by someone and still feel a red-hot hatred for them at once?

  These thoughts circled me like bats as I walked under an ancient bridge that connected one of the towers to the main body of the castle. So many things were on my mind — Mason and his lips, Reese touching Leo’s shoulder like that, Alina admitting to hooking up with her costar and destroying a marriage…

  That was the only secret I had that Mason didn’t. The scales were tipped in his favor, and with the weight of the secrets came the weight of power.

  No matter what I did, he would always have the power. He was a beautiful, established movie star, and what was I? Some normal, boring person from a flyover state in the midwest who came out to L.A., tried his hand at acting and failed miserably. Now I was just a stylist.

  I took joy in what I did, but I still didn’t like how others looked down on me sometimes. Being in L.A. subjected me to hoards of people that sat down in my chair and pretended like they were better than me. I’d even joked with Scott about naming my chair “The High Horse.”

  As I explored the area around the castle, I came upon a beautifully manicured garden. Cast and crew members were hanging out here, taking strolls through the flowers.

  My eyes combed the area, searching for anyone I knew. Some faces looked familiar, but no one that I’d interacted with for an extended time.

  I could move around with stealth, and have more time to myself to try to untangle this web of drama that was unfolding around me.

  As if following some kind of loner instinct, I immediately found the place in the garden that was obscured from view. There was a lonely little park bench tucked away behind a blossoming bush with bright flowers on it, and I knew on some level that this was the place for me.

  I sat in it and stretched out, listening to the fountain dribble next to me. Privately, I decided that this spot would be my little refuge for as long as we were at this set; one area where I could be alone, away from all of these extroverts to just think.

  As soon as the thought bubbled to the surface of my mind, there was the sound of footsteps approaching.
r />   I let out a small sigh as I knew that I’d have to say hi to whoever entered this little area, and then make conversation with them. Just when I got a moment alone to myself…

  But all of my expectations were shattered to pieces as none other than Leo Knight appeared under the archway of flowers.

  He saw me and his golden eyes went round with surprise.

  “I didn’t think anyone else knew about this spot,” he said, his smooth, slow voice pouring out of him like molasses.

  An awkward pause filled the air as I didn’t know what he would end up doing. Was he waiting for me to get up and leave? Why was he standing there staring at me like that?

  “If you want this spot, I’ll leave,” I said, standing up.

  “N-no, don’t move for me. I’ll find somewhere else…” he trailed off.

  Another awkward moment passed as we just stood there, staring at each other.

  “You want alone time too, huh?” I asked the golden god standing in front of me. When I first saw him yesterday, there was this edge of haughtiness about him, as if he wouldn’t bother talking to anyone else. It was as if everyone around him was beneath him.

  But now that I was alone with him face-to-face, I didn’t get that vibe at all. Maybe he was just shy.

  I sat back down on the park bench and scooted over to the side. “You can join me if you want,” I said, letting the offer hang in the air pathetically.

  My heart was beating so fast, and it was like I was in the presence of some majestic, legendary beast, hoping he wouldn’t run away. Part of me thought he wasn’t real at all, as if I was looking at a mirage.

  “I’ll join, but only if you don’t mind me reading,” he said, showing me the Black Castle book in his hand. “I’ve got to catch up…”

  He walked into the little room made of plants, his linebacker form hulking along. Something about that looked so hilariously out of place among all of these delicate flowers. But as I watched the way he moved, it was clear that there was this unmistakable awkwardness to him. It was like he wasn’t used to stardom, and he lacked all of that arrogant swagger that Mason carried with him like a bunch of balloons.

 

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