Cliché

by Ryleigh Sloan

  He didn’t answer me, the tick in his jaw the only indication he’d heard me. The knot in my belly twisted painfully and the nausea rushed back in waves. I inhaled slowly through my nose, exhaling a cloud of vapor that did nothing to ease the anxiety enveloping me. I wracked my brain for something to say that would ease his mind but came up empty.

  We stood outside in the chilled air until my toes were numb, reminding me that my feet were bare. We both looked up as Savannah opened the sliding door.

  “You two will catch your death out here. Come inside, they’re gone.”

  Kevin turned and placed his hand on my back, ushering me through the doors into the warm hotel room but I still shivered. Savannah handed me another glass of brandy and I swallowed it down in one go, needing to feel anything other than numb.

  “This will pass. I promise, one day you’ll look back on this and it will be nothing but a bad memory.” I nodded at her, knowing she meant well but in that moment, I couldn’t see past the feeling of trepidation in my belly. I know we’d dodged the bullet but the close call had left me with a feeling of dread. I thought the scene at the airport was a stark indication of Kevin’s life but that had just been the tip of the iceberg. It was hard enough for me to wrap my head around pushy press and overzealous fans but the realisation that someone would go to the lengths Bruce had in order to capture a private moment was both unfathomable and terrifying.

  “Savannah, get us a room at the Four Seasons. Make sure all the staff sign NDAs and I want access to a back entrance so only the bare minimum of staff see us.”

  “Sure, shall I book adjoining suites or—”

  “I think it’s best if you book me a room on a different floor,” I voiced.

  Savannah looked hesitantly at Kevin and I stared at the drop of brandy remaining in my glass, feeling his surprise more than seeing it.

  “That’s not an option, I want you with me.”

  More than anything, I wanted to crawl into bed with Kevin so I could settle my head against his chest and fall into oblivion where I didn’t have to replay the most intensely humiliating and scary night of my life. But booking one room right now, despite the NDAs and every other precaution he was putting into place, was like a flashing beacon drawing the press right to us. We’d narrowly escaped having our world upended, and not for the first time either, and I was not prepared to go through this again.

  I didn’t only have myself to think about; I had my family to think about too. Just the thought of what it would do to my parents if they ever got wind of a video of me going down on Kevin was something that made my stomach turn dangerously.

  I chose my words carefully. I loved him for wanting to protect me but I needed to protect myself.

  “Kev, I can’t be booked into the same hotel suite as you. Having my stuff all over your room could get an inquisitive maid talking. Someone…the wrong person again, might decide to talk. Let’s not give them any more reason to speculate than they already do. If anyone even got wind we were sleeping in the same room together I’d be labelled a slut and you a cheater.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. We know what’s going on.”

  I sat quiet for a moment, knowing if I reacted now it would be emotional, not reasonable. My silence must have tipped Kevin off because he paused and reached for my hand. “Shit, Claire, I’m sorry, of course I care what people think about you. It’s just…” He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck, it’s no one’s business what I fucking do.”

  “You didn’t just pay that guy a ton of money for us to put ourselves in the same situation again. Even if the chances of someone breaking in and taping—” I broke off and Savannah gave me a sympathetic smile. “I can’t worry about someone seeing me leave your room or that they’ll find my clothes or anything. Kev, it’s only for a few more days.”

  “At the risk of having my head bitten off, Claire’s right. It just takes a guest to snap a pic of you two leaving your room and the rumours will hit the news faster than an STD at a whorehouse,” Savannah said trying to lighten the mood but Kevin ignored her.

  Kevin scrubbed a hand over his face and looked at me. “Are you sure that’s what you really want?”

  I nodded. “Positive.”

  “Fine, book separate rooms but get Andy to send over one of his best men. Sebastian is away for a couple of weeks, so we’ll have to use someone else. I want security detail on Claire at all times.”

  I placed the glass on the table and looked at Savannah. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “This is non-negotiable.” Kevin’s voice snapped like a whip.

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Excuse me.”

  “I’ll bend on the room but not the bodyguard. If I can’t be with you then someone else will.”

  And just like that my moer-meter (loosely translated to my ire-indicator) went from zero to turbo in two seconds. I stood and faced Kevin, my hands balled into fists and mashing into my hips. “You’ll bend on the room but not the bodyguard? Should I start calling you ‘sir’ and sign a contract?” I saw Savannah duck her head to try hide a smile while she attempted to look busy with her phone and realised I may have taken it a bit too far, but I’d be damned if I’d allow Bruce any more power over me by scaring me into having a bodyguard, and I’d be even more damned if I let Kevin boss me around. No way, no how. I didn’t care how well meaning he was. “If you want a bodyguard, get your own but I won’t lose any more of my privacy than I have already, thank you.” I turned on my heel and stormed into the room, grabbing random items and throwing them into my suitcase.

  Kevin knocked on the door and I was too mad to find it amusing that he was asking for permission to enter his own room. I didn’t answer him and he walked towards me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling my back against him, breathing into my neck. I resisted at first, holding onto my anger like a security blanket because as long as I was angry, the fear and paranoia wouldn’t take control.

  “I’m sorry, Claire. I only want to protect you.” The quake in his voice broke my resistance and I relaxed against him. I felt bad for being a bitch when I knew he was blaming himself for everything that had happened tonight.

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He kissed me, slow and with a desperation that made tiny fists of panic claw through me. “Since we’ve only got a few hours together, let’s make the most of it.” He unzipped my dress, his fingers brushing my skin tenderly. I reached over and flicked off the lamp, shrouding the room in darkness.

  I tried not to take his words to heart. I knew he meant that we only had a few hours till Savannah had the arrangements taken care of at the Four Seasons, but the pit of dread grew deeper with each brush of his lips against my skin and each stroke of his fingers. I tried to tell myself that this felt different because I was scared and so was he, but as he pushed gently inside me doubts settled and stuck in my mind like falling glitter. I tried not to think about this possibly being our last night together and get lost in the feel of Kevin moving inside me.

  Kevin kissed the tears slipping down my face. “It’ll be okay, Claire. I’ll make this okay.”

  We both found our release but still the tears fell. Kevin’s hold on me tightened as I cried myself out. We needed to get up and pack but neither of us were willing to let go. So we didn’t.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I stared out the limo windows at the rows and rows of cars crawling along at a snail’s pace, prolonging my agony. As I felt the knot in my stomach tighten with each inhalation of breath, I tried to focus on the reason I was doing this and not my selfish body, teetering on the cusp of a panic attack. Kevin and I hadn’t spoken about what happened the previous evening, both of us preferring to play ostrich and forget the whole thing. I’d moved into my own room at the Four Seasons and Kevin had gotten over his initial frustration with my decision, but I couldn’t shake my feeling of vulnerability and it wasn’t helping my nerves any.

  This was Kevi
n’s night, a night he’d worked his ass off for, a night where he would be acknowledged for his incredible talent, skill, and hard work and I needed to get my shit together. I looked over at him and what little breath I seemed to have caught for the zillionth time since he’d knocked on the door of my room at the hotel. He was striking in his tux, his hair slicked back, face in profile as he talked to his agent on the phone. His other hand held mine, and I turned my face back to the window—it was one thing to stare at him while he slept but another entirely when he was wide awake and sitting next to me.

  “Nervous?”

  I hadn’t heard him end his call and I startled when his lips brushed my ear.

  “Yeah, um…I’m fine.”

  “You sure? ’Cause I’m starting to worry about the circulation in my hand.”

  I looked down to our interlaced fingers, mine squeezing his so tight the bones in my hands jutted out. I immediately let go and he shook his fingers.

  A small nervous chuckle escaped me. “Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous.”

  Kevin tipped up my chin, his gorgeous grey eyes meeting mine. “It’s going to be okay. They’re just people like you and me and no one in that place is going to look remotely as gorgeous as you do right now.”

  I smoothed the skirt of my off-the-shoulder, midnight blue gown, for a moment distracted by the feel of the silk beneath my fingertips and the memory of how Kevin had kissed me when he’d first seen me in it.

  “They’re just normal people, Claire-Bear.”

  I knew this of course, being friends with Kevin had allowed me a different perspective when it came to celebrities than the general population. They were just ordinary people placed on extraordinary pedestals, trying to do what they loved and at the same time live normal lives—well, most of them anyway. I wasn’t nervous about being in a room full of celebrities. I was nervous about being in a room full of strangers. Period.

  The unknown had my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth and I leaned forward to get a bottle of water. “Want one?”

  Kevin shook his head. “I’m good.”

  I downed the entire bottle of water in one go and still didn’t feel like I’d quenched my thirst, so I reached for another bottle.

  “Uh, you might want to go easy on the water, it’s gonna be a while before there’s time for a bathroom break.”

  I stared at the empty bottle in my hand and bumped his shoulder with mine. “Thanks, that information would have been useful thirty seconds ago.”

  Kevin chuckled and took the bottle from me, placing it in a nifty trash compartment in the side panel of the door.

  “Are you nervous?” I asked. After all, he was the one who was going to have to give a speech in front of a room full of his peers plus 250 million people watching from home if he won.

  “I’m not nervous, I’m…” He hesitated then turned in his seat. “This is going to make me sound…well…” He ran a finger over his lip. “…like an ungrateful dick but this whole thing feels pointless to me.”

  This had me struggling to keep my eyebrows from shooting off my face. I thought Kevin was excited about this evening. He’d earned the nomination, he deserved it.

  “It’s not that I don’t think people should get the award, I know what goes into making a film and it’s fucking hard work. It’s just that I know what goes into making a film. It’s about the lighting and the props and the stagehands and the electrical guy and the score. It’s more than me just standing on set and saying my lines. I just don’t feel like I deserve an award for…” He grinned sheepishly. “For being a professional liar.”

  I laughed at the term my gran used to describe Kevin’s profession and ran my fingers through his hair.

  “You’re amazing at what you do. Yeah, the lighting and music and everything else helps, but if you don’t evoke the emotions you do when acting your part, no one would believe the story. This nomination is because you’re amazing at making people believe the story. You should be proud of that.”

  Kevin kissed me gently on my temple and pulled me in closer to him. “It’s about what you think that matters most.”

  I melted a little inside in that moment, his words calming the butterflies to a slight flutter.

  “If I tell you I’m nervous, will you help me take my mind off it?” Kevin murmured in my ear.

  “Well that depends on what you had in mind.”

  His whispered words sent my pulse into overdrive but I gave him my best scandalised look. “If you think I’m going to walk into the Oscars with “just fucked hair” and a wrinkled dress, you must be high.”

  Kevin chuckled and I settled against his chest, his fingers running up and down my arm and feeling more relaxed than I had all day.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I reached for champagne from a waiter walking by, surprised to find my hand steady as a surgeon’s despite the fact that I was trembling on the inside. The red carpet could not have gone any worse. For the most part, I’d managed to stay in the shadows, obscured by the inflated egos and personal agendas of the stars and press alike; that is until Kevin pretty much shoved me under the bus. I was still reeling as I took a large sip of my drink, the sour taste proving that expensive didn’t always mean better but it served its purpose, which was to dull the humiliation and the hurt.

  I know why Kevin did it—which in a sense only made it worse—he was trying to protect me and by dumping me into the spotlight he was in effect ensuring I was taken out of it. I took another sip, telling myself that I needed to be mindful not to get drunk and humiliate myself further but each sip I took helped to ease the pretzel-like knot in my tummy and dammit, I needed it. My cheeks flushed as I recalled Kevin’s matter-of-fact announcement to Ryan Kyle that I was “just a childhood friend” and while the words stung, it was the unprompted deliverance of them that hurt the most.

  I can’t tell who was most surprised by the announcement, me or Ryan. Ryan had been conducting a normal interview with Kevin, asking him about his feelings regarding being nominated and how he felt about his co-nominees. Ryan had merely flicked his eyes in my direction when Kevin had placed a protective arm around my shoulders. “I haven’t introduced you to my friend Claire. Claire, this is Ryan Kyle from E-Entertainment. Claire and I grew up together.”

  Ryan politely shook my hand, asked about the designer of my dress, who I admitted to not knowing because Kevin picked and paid for the dress, and then taking Kevin’s announcement as an opening, Ryan asked the question that had me blinking like a strobe light.

  “So, are any of the rumours about you and Claire true?”

  Kevin laughed, all easy breezy and relaxed while everything inside me tensed and twisted. “Absolutely none. Hayley couldn’t make it this evening. Claire is just a friend, always has been, always will be. Right, Claire?”

  Kevin squeezed me tighter to his side and my stomach bottomed out as I felt the colour drain from my face. Thankfully, I had the excuse that I was camera shy to hide behind and recovered quick enough. “That’s true.” I’d smiled widely at Ryan. “I taught Kevin all there was to know about climbing trees and skinned knees.” Oh my God, who was I, Dr. Seuss? Ryan had smiled, catching my barb, then artfully changed the subject while Kevin patted me on the back like a long-lost buddy. From there, Kevin posed for a zillion photos, and then we were in the hall where pre-ceremony drinks were flowing and I was lost in a blur of introductions.

  Bringing my glass to my lips, I found it empty. Kevin turned to me as yet another person stopping by to congratulate him walked away. “Are you okay?” He exchanged my empty glass for a full one. The concern in his eyes had guilt washing over me and I forced a smile. This night wasn’t about me or us, for that matter, it was about Kevin, and I needed to get a grip.

  “I’m fine. It’s a lot to take in.” I indicated with my now-filled glass to the room full of celebrities I’d grown up watching during movie nights at home. My dad was going to flip out when I told him I could reach out and touch Robert DeNiro i
f I wanted to.

  “Yeah, it is a lot. Look, Claire…”

  I couldn’t have this conversation here. I was dangerously close to bursting into tears and ruining Kevin’s night and I refused to do that. “Where’s the bathroom?” I blurted. “All that water and such, y’know.”

  “I’ll show her.” Kate Houston leaned around Kevin and gave me a sweet smile. I grabbed my clutch and returned her smile with one of my own.

  “I won’t be long.” I leaned in tapped him on the cheek. “Don’t steal my drink.” There, I can do easy breezy too.

  We walked into the bathroom, all cream and gold marble with gleaming taps. Two burgundy wingbacks stood in the alcove and I wanted nothing more than to plop my ass down, pull my knees up and camp out in the bathroom for the evening.

  “You’re doing a great job for a newbie.” Kate reached into her clutch and pulled out her bright red lipstick.

  “And you’re a terrible liar for an actor.” I don’t know if it was the champagne or if my bullshit meter was maxed out for the day but the words just slipped from my mouth. Kate was also up for an Oscar for her role as an autistic girl who’d been locked in a shed by her parents. The entire movie was shot in the shed and it took a certain level of skill to keep the viewer enthralled enough to not need any outside stimulation. Kate was an unbelievably good actor and as I chewed on the inside of my cheek, I worried that I’d insulted her.

  Her barking laugh had me both blowing out a relieved breath and worrying that she’d paint a red streak across her perfect white teeth. Turning to me, her blue eyes shining, she pointed the lipstick at me and beamed (not a smudge to be seen). “I can see why Kevin brought you along tonight. It’s refreshing not having people crawling so far up your ass you can’t tell where you end and they begin.”

  She placed her lipstick back in her clutch and took a few steps to me, fixing a stray piece of hair that had come loose from my up-do. “Those people out there are brutal, Claire. They can smell fear a mile off. Do yourself a favour and fake it till you make it.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Relax these a little.” Then she placed a hand on my stomach. “Breath deep from here,” she stepped back, “and try not to chug your champers so fast and you’ll be fine. Do you know how to get back?”