Scoring Chance

by Vera Roberts

  Eighteen

  Dean stood next to Chris as they watched their mother walk down the aisle to their father. Their parents renewed their vows for their twentieth anniversary in front of a crowd of 100 of their closest family and friends.

  As 17-year-old Dean stood, he glanced over at his father who carefully wiped a tear from his cheek. “Your mother is the most beautiful woman in the world,” Gavin sniffled, “and I’m so lucky to have her.”

  Throughout the ceremony, Dean noticed how his father looked at his mother. He was completely in love with her and couldn’t focus on anyone else, not even the minister.

  Dean wondered if he’ll ever find a love like that.

  It took a few days for everyone to arrive from San Francisco and Chicago. There were lots of laughter, some tears shed, and lots of marriage advice. Their puppy, Boss, served as ring-bearer. Sarah and Jameson acted as Best Man and Maid of Honor. Dean’s brother, Chris, officiated the ceremony. Sapphire was the official wedding photographer.

  In the backyard with their friends and family, under the moonlight of Manhattan Beach, Sydney and Dean exchanged “I Do’s.” She wore an off the rack strapless white lace cocktail dress and went barefoot. Dean wore the same open collar tux from Jameson’s wedding, and also barefoot.

  Dean swallowed his emotions as the memory dissipated into the background. His voice cracked as he struggled to hold back tears. Standing in front of him and before God, family, and their friends, was his fiancée. It felt like it was only the two of them in the universe as time slowed for them.

  “Sydney, you’re all I could ever want in a wife. You’re my best friend, my lover, my soulmate, and my everything. I promise to honor you in your absence as well as your presence.” He pledged. “I will honor you all of my days. They say love is forever and honestly, you’re the forever I need.”

  Sydney sniffled and as she lightly patted her eyelids. “You’re going to make me ruin my makeup, babe.”

  Dean kissed her forehead. “I love you, raccoon eyes or not.”

  Sydney managed to get the strength to say her vows, written on a small piece of paper. “I look into your eyes, Dean, and see my future. I see our children, who won’t be named Bobby or Betty because you hate those names.” The audience giggled and Dean mouthed, ‘It’s true.’ “I look into your eyes and forget about the world around us because you’re all I need. Love is a funny thing. You expect it to be easy, with nothing but puppies and roses. It’s then you realize how hard it is but how much worth it can be. It’s not about how good-looking someone is but rather, if they can listen to you for hours. It’s not about them liking your quirks, but if they still love you when you get on their nerves.

  “While relationships are never 50/50, love always is. You give and take, hoping you can meet the partner who has the same goals and dreams.” Sydney folded her vows and looked into Dean’s eyes. “I have a lot of growing up to do but you’re the only person I want to grow old with. I loved you the day I met you, I loved you when I left you twice,” she chuckled, “and I’ll love you forever.”

  “By the power vested in me via the Internet,” Chris replied, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Dean, you may kiss your bride. Syd, welcome to the family!”

  Everyone around them hollered and cheered as the couple shared a romantic first kiss. “We did it, babe.” Sydney smiled.

  “We did.” Dean grinned.

  Ian’s restaurant catered the affair and everyone took turns toasting (and even roasting) the happy couple.

  Dancing to “All My Life,” Sydney carefully wiped tears from Dean’s eyes as he held her close. Amidst the camera flashing and everyone’s eyes on them, Sydney and Dean only focused on each other.

  “We is married now,” Sydney giggled, using a line from The Color Purple.

  “We is,” Dean nodded, “how do you feel, Mrs. Winchester?”

  “I feel like we should’ve gotten married a while back. Our relationship, through its many ups and downs have been so magical and I don’t regret anything.” Sydney agreed. “How do you feel, Mr. Sydney Walker?”

  Dean laughed. “I don’t mind being called that at all. I could get used to it. It has a nice ring to it – Dean Walker.”

  “Hmm…I like Sydney Winchester better,” she nodded, “that has a better ring to it.”

  “Are you ready to take on the world?” Dean asked.

  Sydney pulled Dean’s face close to hers and kissed him. “With you, babe, I’m ready to conquer anything.”

  ~~~~~

  “What do we have here?” Dean looked at the half-empty bottles of liquor in their outside bar. After the guests left, it just left him and Sydney alone where they continued the party. “We have Henny, we have Jack, we have…” He shook a bottle of nearly empty tequila. “We have guests who partied harder than we did. Syd, do you want anything else? Syd?” Dean looked behind him and found his new bride sleeping on the chaise lounge under the patio.

  Dean walked up to her and softly shook her. She was out cold. He looked around him and noticed it was lovely summer night out, and had a brilliant idea. He hurried back inside to retrieve a few pillows and blankets and rejoined Sydney.

  Underneath the stars, with his bride snuggled up against him, Dean smiled up at the sky. “I hope you enjoyed the wedding, Dad. You probably had the best seat in the house.” He then fell asleep.

  Nineteen

  Present time….

  It was the big day.

  The day of the shoot.

  It was already fall so there was a crisp, biting chill in the air. It was early in the morning and the city was beginning to wake up – neighbors leaving their homes, a line of cars in both directions, followed by distant honking of horns and screeching brakes.

  Sydney sat in a director’s chair as hair and makeup attended to her. A small pumpkin spiced latte tickled her senses, keeping her distracted by the main event. Small butterflies filled up the space in her tiny stomach as she tried to memorize her lines.

  How do you art?

  It was a simple line in which Sydney would speak repeatedly as the camera showed her in different settings. The focus would primarily be on her painting styles and how she works with different mediums.

  She also knew the real focus was going to be on her performance art scene with Dean. It wasn’t her first time doing an intimate act in front of a camera but it would be the first time the whole world would see it. She second thought having that extra bagel for lunch the other day.

  Jokes aside, she knew how important it was and so did everyone else. The set was their loft in Downtown L.A. With the open windows, busy streets, and rich scenery, it was the perfect backdrop for the performance art. It offered plenty of space and privacy from nosey neighbors.

  The stylists chose soft makeup to match the lighting and make Sydney look more natural and approachable. The look was Girl Next Door, not Every Man’s Porn Star Fantasy.

  It didn’t matter to Sydney. She was going to be intimate with her husband in front of the world. As she carefully admired the Tiffany rose gold band, Sydney felt blessed Dean chose her. They hadn’t been together for a full year and yet, they had gone through more drama than most couples in entire lifetimes.

  That was their push and pull. Dean lived fast and so did Sydney. They had their demons but they also had their virtues. He had a relentless drive that silently encouraged her to work harder and smarter. He encouraged her art and she was more than happy to cheer for him on the sidelines even though she couldn’t quite understand hockey.

  Now the world was going to see the couple in their most intimate moment.

  Married couples don’t normally release sex tapes and many were horrified when such moments were hacked and seen by the world. Sydney and Dean were an anomaly. Half the audience wanted to see Dean while the other was curious about Sydney.

  As Dean and Sydney got ready in their respective areas, Ian handled the business portion while Scott oversaw the artistic piece. Famed Hollywood director
Bobby Whalen handled the camerawork from start to finish.

  One of Scott’s close friends, Nick D’Amato, advised Dean on performing in front of an audience while Nick’s wife, Zerrin, and Mariana, were Sydney’s liaisons for the shoot.

  “Only concentrate on him and not everyone else,” Zerrin advised, “you want it to be natural and not contrived like a porn.”

  “No winking at the camera, or moaning as you looked into it. That’s super creepy!” Mariana chimed in. “In fact, we can have it a closed set and just have it be you, Dean, and Bobby.”

  “No, I’m fine,” Sydney replied, “I think it’s best we keep everything as is. I wouldn’t want to change the vibe here.”

  “Are you nervous?” Zerrin asked.

  “Very,” Sydney was honest, “but I’m with my husband and once we get started, I’ll probably forget all of you are here.”

  ~~~~~

  Dean sat in hair and makeup as he awaited his cue from Bobby. Sydney already shot her scenes and Dean killed time playing one of his phone games. He was still jet-lagged from a spontaneous Mexico trip the couple took the morning after the wedding.

  As a mini-honeymoon and footage for the video, the couple went to Mexico. They made love every night, went shopping, swimming, and snorkeling, and tried their hand at karaoke, which they both were horrible at.

  Now it was back to reality.

  Dean wasn’t still entirely sold on the performance art aspect and wondered how many endorsements were going to drop him as a result. But he was forced to trust Ian, despite his sheer disgust for the man. As much as he didn’t like Dean, Ian loved Sydney and her art more. He only had her best interest.

  The idea needed to work.

  Dean had a lot to lose – his reputation, his endorsements, and his livelihood. He didn’t want a sex tape with his wife to be the number one search for the rest of his life. The focus needed to be on Sydney and only her, especially with preseason starting.

  Dean felt Ian’s presence before he saw him and glanced up at the mirror in front of him. The men didn’t smile or wave at each other, simply holding each other’s intense stares in the quiet room.

  “Is Sydney ready for me?” Dean finally asked.

  “Yes, she is,” Ian nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll get started.”

  “Okay,” Dean replied and watched Ian began to leave, “I wanted to talk to you privately and away from everyone.” Ian paused and turned around. “I know we don’t like each other and I’m still not entirely sure about you. But you went out of your way not to only to protect Sydney, but me as well. And for that, you get my respect.”

  Ian remained emotionless as he began. “Dean, I’ve made it clear I don’t care about you. But if I want Sydney to be the most successful artist in the world, I have to care about you to an extent. Protecting Sydney’s art is all I care about.” Ian held out a hand. “Truce?”

  Dean glanced down at Ian’s hand for a short moment before he shook it, holding Ian’s eyes. “Truce.”

  ~~~~~

  “And….action!” Bobby directed to the couple.

  Sydney climbed on top of Dean as they slowly kissed each other. Their lips repeatedly met as their tongues tangled. Harsh breaths were met with an increasing need and intense desire that spilled over. Sydney put Dean’s hands against the sofa as she adjusted her position to accommodate his hardened shaft inside her.

  She convulsed around him, stretching to fit his girth and length. “Oh my God…” She murmured as she rocked against him in a steady tempo, releasing his hands.

  Dean’s hands wandered all over Sydney’s back and landed on her ass, as he guided her. “You look so beautiful, baby girl,” he whispered to her, “I love the way you take me.”

  Sydney only nodded as she continued to ride him, increasing her tempo to a bouncing speed as she quivered and shook around him. She forgot about everyone watching them. She forgot about the film. She forgot everything.

  She was only focused on her husband, how he loved her and the ways he pleased her. It wasn’t just his sex but his spirit, his love, and his everything. Sydney’s moans morphed into loud shrieks as Dean met her thrusts. She felt lost of control and was in the moment with her man.

  Her husband.

  “I don’t care if we’re in front of a few people or ten thousand,” he whispered to her, “I still want you to beg for it.”

  Sydney whimpered as the climax was so close but felt so far. “Please, baby…”

  “I can’t hear you,” he whispered.

  The whimpers shook Sydney to her core as the orgasm began to coat all over her body. All control was lost, her hair was frizzed, and her mouth was against his neck as he pounded into her. “Please…”

  “Louder,” he demanded.

  “Please!” She screamed.

  “Yes,” he replied, and Sydney let out a primal scream. Her body shook to the core as Dean soon followed behind her.

  The room was completely silent and no one dared to take a breath. Sydney rolled off Dean and they fell asleep on the sofa together, holding each other.

  Finally, Bobby spoke. “And that’s a wrap!”

  Twenty

  Rebecca was ready.

  She woke up, showered and dressed, put on a pot of coffee. It was going to be a new day. It was going to be a great day.

  Rebecca was about to become the most-famous woman in the world and she will owe of her thanks to Dean.

  She inhaled a deep breath of the hazelnut coffee aroma and smiled. Nothing was going to stop her from achieving her goal. Not her bitchy costars on the Real Housewives. Not Dean and his treatment of her. No one.

  It was always her goal to become rich and famous no matter the cost and those pictures of her and Dean cost a pretty penny.

  The pictures should’ve been leaked and her social accounts should’ve been blown up. She checked her phone notifications and saw a weird thing. Followers replied with the paint pallet emoji.

  “What the…?” Rebecca went online and did a search for Dean. Her jaw dropped open upon seeing the first search result:

  DEAN WINCHESTER HAS ACTUAL SEX WITH HOT NEW WIFE IN AD.

  “New wife?!” Rebecca yelled. She clicked on the result and scrolled down to the video. She played it and shook her head in amazement and pure, utter disgust.

  How do you art?

  The camera panned to an image of Sydney, slowly painting an image of four black women in various hairstyles – an Afro, long hair, short hair, and braids. An image across the screen titled the image as “Sisterhood.”

  I become my art. I like to feel the textures, the colors, and smell the surface. I like to hear it.

  The camera panned to Sydney pressing her ear to the canvas.

  My art speaks to me. It tells me what I should next. It tells me what to feel. If I don’t feel it, neither can you.

  The next image was the jaw-dropper – Dean approached Sydney from behind and the couple began kissing. He kissed her all over her body and hoisted her against a different canvas. They began to move together in unison as they both gasped and clutched each other.

  The scene was cut by an image of Sydney in front of a beach, sipping a drink out of a coconut. The next image was of her singing karaoke in front of a crowd and a homemade video of her and Dean kissing, which was spliced with another erotic image of Sydney riding Dean on their sofa.

  It was clear the couple were having sex, though no images below the waist were seen. Instead, it looked like a hot scene from a PG-13 movie.

  Their wedding rings were clearly shown.

  The last scene was a time-lapse video of Sydney painting a new picture of now-infamous footballer Caleb Kelly, who protested against the National Anthem. It was Caleb kneeling in front of the American flag, wearing his football uniform. Behind the flag were images of the United States’ dirty history – the Native American genocide, the Japanese interment camps, African slavery, Jim Crow laws, sundown towns, anti-immigration, and Islamophobia.

  The
caption read, “#NeverForget.”

  So let me ask you…how do you art?

  The ad for Sydney’s show at the Ferguson Gallery was shown.

  Rebecca’s jaw dropped open as she went onto her Twitter account and saw Dean and Sydney were the top trending topics. Everyone praised how wonderful and artistic the performance art was while sending congratulations to the newly married couple. Rebecca did a search for her name and came up empty.

  Rebecca checked her voicemail and heard back from the hacker she’d hired to do the photos. “Hey man, sorry I couldn’t upload the pics today. I had to do something for my mom so I was gone for a while. I can do it tomorrow after school. Let me know if that works, yo.” The line went dead.

  Rebecca decided she would forego the hacker and the ten thousand dollar advance she gave him. She would upload her photos and then what? She would get sued by Dean. He would hate her for the rest of his life. There went any chance of reconciliation. She could possibly get arrested.

  No one talked about her. No one cared. And now that Dean was married, it was official he no longer cared about her.

  Rebecca sighed and started to type a tweet to Dean, wishing he and Sydney luck on their marriage. She then hastily erased it before she retyped it and pressed send.

  She needed some drama for her storyline. She might as well bank off the newly married couple.

  ~~~~~

  “How does it feel?” Dean asked as he and Sydney sat on the deck of their home, drinking wine and enjoying the sunset. “You’re now more famous than me.”

  Sydney received so many calls, she had to put her phone on silent. While praise of the performance art focused on her art and relationship with Dean, she officially became a target of the Alt-Right, who deemed her Public Enemy Number One. Meanwhile, Sydney’s Black fanbase exponentially grew and she was considered a hero.

  Meanwhile, tickets for her opening night at the Ferguson officially sold out. “I don’t care about that,” Sydney shrugged and sipped her sweet wine, “we’ll be popular for a day or two and then it’s on to the next news story.”

  Dean kissed Sydney’s hand and rubbed it with his thumb. “Are you ready for your art show, wife?”