by B. B. Hamel
I barely love myself. I’ve been buried so deep down in my own pit of self-loathing and despair ever since I managed to crawl into rehab that I’ve been unable and unwilling to find love anywhere else.
The woman finally meets my gaze. She smiles, and it’s almost angelic in its wickedness. “You’re in love, all right, and you’re afraid.”
I bite my lip and look away. “I think you have me mixed up with someone else.”
“Spirits don’t lie, boy.” She leans forward, slamming her hands down onto the table. “One day you’ll open your eyes and see something you never expected. You’ll see it, spirit and all, floating there and staring right back. You’ll scream, you’ll cry, you’ll writhe on the floor in pain, but you can’t get away from truth.”
“What’s the truth?” I ask her, finally getting into her act.
“You’ve got love in that heart. You can run from it all you want. Bones tell me you drown it all away, drown it all for a long time, but not anymore. You can’t run away and you never will.” She leans back, her speech finished, her arms crossed over her chest.
I stare at her for a second before breaking out into a huge smile. “Well, that was fantastic,” I say. “Guess I better start looking forward to all that love coming my way.”
The reading ends not too long later. We thank the priestess, who seems like she couldn’t give a shit one way or the other about us, and pack up all our crap. Piper shoots me a look but doesn’t say anything as I finish helping the guys pack up their equipment. We leave as a group and the van ride back to the hotel is strained at best.
I keep stealing glances at her, and I think she knows it. She’s trying not to look in my direction, I can tell every time my eyes gaze across her pretty face. I want to reach out and touch her hand, squeeze her fingers between mine, but that’s stupid. The guys would see and what the fuck would they think? I hear her warning in my mind, and I know she’s right.
When a female producer fucks a male actor, she’s a slut and nothing more.
We get back to the hotel and I head to my room after we unload. I sit at the edge of my bed, turning my phone around in my hands, feeling the smooth edges and staring at the floor. I can still taste her on my lips, hear her moans in my ears, even if I haven’t had her for a little while.
I stand and walk across the room. I make a choice, a stupid choice, but it’s time. I reach into my suitcase and slip the piece of paper into my pocket before leaving my room and heading down the hall.
Piper answers her door after the second knock. She doesn’t look surprised to see me, she just steps aside and lets me past.
She shuts the door and follows me into the room.
“Don’t let it get to you,” she says to me.
I arch an eyebrow. “Let what?”
“That priestess, that whole voodoo thing.” She just shrugs a little. “I could tell you were uncomfortable.”
“Oh.” I laugh a little bit. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it.”
“Don’t worry. Everyone thinks that stuff is crap.”
I take a sharp breath and slowly let it out. “What if it’s not?”
She stares at me for a second, not moving. She’s motionless like a rabbit in a field, hiding from a predator. She’s waiting for me to swoop down on her with my talons, to tear her into little pieces, and she’s right. I’ll eat her whole if she lets me.
I reach into my pocket and take out the piece of paper. I hold it out for her.
“Here,” I say.
She takes it, unfolds it, looks back at me. “Why are you giving this to me?”
“I didn’t file it,” I say. “I lied, back in Vegas.”
“You didn’t?”
“Nope. We’re not really married, not officially, anyway. You can do whatever you want with that. I’m done pretending.” I give her another look before turning and leaving her room.
I can practically feel her chasing after me, but there are no footsteps in the hall. I wish she’d come and turn me around, kiss me, tell me she wants me to keep the license. Instead, there’s just more silence. I feel defeated, broken, but I don’t know what I expected.
Doesn’t matter. I did what I had to do, and now it’s done. I head back to my room and take a long shower, wondering when this is all going to end for me, when I’ll finally let it all go.
24
Piper
For the rest of the New Orleans shoot, I keep that marriage license in my pocket.
Every night after work, I bring it out and stare at it. I sit in bed and stare, the paper propped up on the bedside table, practically mocking me. I should burn it, tear it to ribbons, bury it in the swamp, flush it down the toilet.
Instead, I stare at it, and I pretend like nothing happened.
Life goes on. I don’t know how. That moment in my room, when he gave me this license and admitted he never filed it, that was a turning point, that was an important moment. I know I should have chased him down, kissed him, told him how I felt. But I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut, too stunned to move.
And now here I am, two weeks later, still not sure what to do with a piece of paper that could change my life forever.
We get a flight out of the city as soon as possible. I’m headed back to LA while Calvin and Eric both go back home to New York. We say our goodbyes in the airport, although it’s only a temporary goodbye. If all goes well, we’ll be spending a lot more time together.
Jace comes with me. We’re headed to the studio to screen an episode for the executive assigned to our project. It’s not the official pilot or anything, but it’s more like we’re testing the water, seeing if they’re even going to be interesting in seeing the finished product.
Jace feels distant to me the whole time. I totally understand why. He probably feels like I blew him off that night in my room but I just didn’t know what to do. My feelings have been growing for him exponentially, changing so much I can barely keep up with them. It’s crazy and terrifying and impossible but all I want to do is be around him, be near him, let him touch me. I thought he was an asshole when we first met but now I just want to be with him. I don’t know how any of this happened.
But of course I know how it happened. It was slow at first, since it all felt so wrong. I was attracted to him the moment I met him, and it only grew from there. He opened up to me, and I opened up to him. By the time we left New Orleans, I felt like I knew him better than I ever thought possible, and yet I still am too afraid to do anything about it.
I’m a coward. Say what you will about me, but say I’m a coward. Truth hurts sometimes.
The studio has a nice, dark theater for the screening. The executive, this guy in his mid-thirties with swooped-back hair, a thick beard, and a slim Armani suit, is named Harlow and he seems way too young to be making this decision. He has two secretaries with him the whole time, taking notes on everything we’re saying, and he barely makes eye contact.
“Okay then,” Harlow says. “All loaded up?”
I nod, taking my seat next to Jace, a few seats down the row from Harlow.
“Ready,” I say, and gesture at the projectionist.
The title credits roll. It’s a rough take, but it’s not too bad. Harlow’s watching the whole time, attentive as can be.
It’s the New Orleans episode. I blink a little bit, surprised. I thought I had the Colorado episode on that disc, and this isn’t supposed to be happening. I start to get up, but Jace grabs my hand and looks at me.
“Let it roll,” he says quietly.
I stare at him. “It’s not finished. I didn’t get to finish it.”
“I did,” he says. “Let it roll.”
I stare at him for a second, deep into his eyes. He stares back and it’s almost like he’s pleading with me to let this happen. Slowly I sink back into my seat. “Okay,” I say softly. “Sink or swim now.”
He nods and looks straight ahead again as the episode begins.
It’s not bad. I edited the
first half, so obviously I think it’s pretty good. There are some rough moments, but it never lulls, never gets boring. Jace’s voiceover is cutting and concise, but engaging all the same. I don’t know when he had time to write and record it, but I’m glad he did, because it’s working. Harlow seems completely engaged with the screen, ignoring the girls to either side of him.
Then comes the latter half of the show. The scene with the priestess finally comes, and it’s nearly as uncomfortable to watch as it was to be in the room. Jace is so clearly squirming and awkward, and I see Harlow’s attention starting to drift. There’s nothing worse than watching someone else’s discomfort.
But the scene ends, and B-roll of the city comes up, with Jace’s voice overtop of it.
“Here’s the truth about that reading,” he says in the show. This is the first time I’m hearing any of these thoughts. “She was absolutely right. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, because love is something private for me, something I want to keep hidden away from the world, maybe even from the object of my desire. But that’s not what Voodoo is all about. Voodoo illuminates, brings things out into the light. Voodoo uses the spirits to find truth, to protect, to do much more. For me, Voodoo forced truth from my chest, truth I maybe didn’t want to focus on too closely. I have been falling in love lately, with a girl I maybe shouldn’t be in love with.
“That’s the magic of New Orleans. It’s seductive and exciting and mysterious and layered so deep down you almost forget where you’re standing. That’s also love. It’s multifaceted, never simple, always beautiful, even the worst kinds of love can be beautiful. In the future I’m making it my mission to face love head-on, not to hide from it. Just like I want to face the city head-on and dive deep down into its crevices to wring out every inch of history, culture, and humanity.”
The closing credits start to roll. It’s about five minutes too short.
I don’t give a shit, because there are tears in my eyes as Jace stands up and leaves the room without another word.
“That was good.”
The voice startles me. Of course it’s Harlow, the young hipster executive. I take a breath and get myself together before I turn to him. “Thanks,” I say.
“A little short,” he comments. “Rough n spots. Intro needs work and that ending speech could be trimmed. I think he could lose all that love stuff and still be good.” Harlow shrugs. “Anyway, nice work. I’m greenlighting you for three more episodes. Bring us what you’ve got in seven weeks.”
“Thank you,” I say, completely stunned. I didn’t expect that at all. I figured we’d be given more time to finish editing the footage we have at best, not a greenlight for more episodes. That’s practically unheard of.
He just shrugs. “This is going to make us all very rich and very happy.” He grins at me, stands, and leaves. His two girls follow him out.
I sit there in the empty theater after he’s gone, staring out at the screen. I don’t know where Jace went, but I suspect I’m going to see him soon. I suspect I’m going to learn a lot about myself.
25
Jace
“Well, did she dump you?”
I sigh and glare at my mom. “We weren’t dating.”
She shrugs a little bit. “But you wanted to date her, right?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“So, did she dump you?”
“Probably.”
She pats my shoulder. “I’ll make you some pasta. You want some pasta?”
“Sure,” I say, smiling a little bit.
“That’s my boy. Here, have a beer.” She grabs me a can from the refrigerator and cracks it open before pouring it into a glass for me. I sit at her table and sip it while she busies herself cooking.
I couldn’t stay in that room with her and watch her reaction to my voiceover. It was just too fucking painful. As soon as the episode was over, I got up and walked the fuck out of there. I couldn’t face her, not after I spilled my guts out like that, in front of that douche executive no less. She was probably so embarrassed she wanted to die, but whatever, that guy had no clue it was about her. We’ll probably cut that stuff in the end, anyway.
It felt good to say that stuff. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to tell her how I feel but maybe I don’t know any other way. I’m a big screen, big gesture kind of guy. I don’t do anything halfway. I don’t do anything like normal guys do it, which is probably a failing. I do fucked-up shit, or at least I used to. Now I just make stupid gestures and risk my damn career to try and pull it off.
Mom puts a plate of spaghetti in front of me and I dig in. I’m not even hungry, but it’s comfort food, and I could use some comfort. I threw my heart out into the void and I never heard the sound of it landing. As far as I can tell, it’s still floating out there, dropping down into the deep dark of nothing forever.
“You liked her, huh?” Mom sits down across from me.
“I liked her,” I say. “I know I fucked up before, but I actually liked this one.”
She frowns a little. “You more than fucked up, you know.”
I meet my mother’s gaze. “I know.”
“Do you?” She cocks her head, leaning toward me. “Listen, Jace, I love you, I always will. I pushed you out and I raised you from a baby. I wiped shit off your ass and you puked on me for three months straight, day in and day out. I love you more than you can understand, at least until you have your own kid.” She takes a deep breath, lets it out. “But that girl should run far, far away.”
I stare at her, spaghetti hanging from my fork, before slowly lowering it to my plate. I take a long drink from my beer and slowly put it back down.
“You’re not wrong,” I say finally. “You know the worst version of me. You remember the junkie.”
“I remember the boy, too. How many girls got their hearts broken because of you?”
“A lot,” I concede.
“Piper’s a good one. Do you really want to do that to her?”
I bite my lip again. “Yes,” I say finally. “I really do. Or at least I’m willing to risk it, even right now when the idea of hurting her disgusts me more than anything else.”
Mom nods slowly. I’ve never talked this way about anything like this with her. Normally we joke around, keep it light, never get serious. I know what she thinks of me, she thinks I’ve been a shitty person, a bad son, a monster. I know that, I can see it in her eyes, but I also see how much she loves me and supports me and has always been there for me. It’s complicated, but it’s real.
“I’ve never heard you say something like that before,” she says. “And you sound like you mean it.”
“I do mean it. I’m in love with that girl. I just don’t know how to make her understand.”
Mom shrugs a little bit and takes my beer glass, drinking half of it down. “You’ll figure it out,” she says. “You always do.”
I grin and push my plate across the table. She hesitates but picks up the fork and starts eating just as my phone starts to ring.
I pull it from my pocket and it’s her. Piper’s name is splashed across the screen. I hold it out for my mom to see before standing up and walking out her back door and into the yard.
I answer just before it goes to voicemail. “Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” She hesitates. It sounds like she’s in a car, on speakerphone. “Where are you right now?”
“Went to my mom’s,” I say.
“Okay. Can you stay there? I want to talk.”
“Remember the way?”
“I remember.”
“See you soon then.”
“Yeah. See you.”
She hangs up. I go back inside. My mother’s halfway finished the spaghetti already.
“She’s on her way.” I lean up against the counter.
“Just be honest,” Mom says. “And be nice to her. Don’t be stupid.”
“Great advice, thanks.”
She grins at me. “Just be nice, okay?”
“Okay, Mom.”
/> I bend down and kiss her on the cheek before heading out front. I sit on the stoop and wait for Piper to show up.
She pulls up maybe ten minutes later in her blue rented Camry. She climbs out and looks at me for a second.
“How’d you get here?” she asks.
“Uber.”
“Right. I always forget that’s a thing.” She walks over and sits down next to me. “The show got greenlit for three more episodes.”
She says it so casually, like it’s no big deal. “Are you serious?” I ask.
She nods. “He thinks it’s gonna be a hit.”
“Holy shit.” I laugh a little bit, our legs touching. “That’s huge. Three episodes already? I thought we’d just get more time to edit.”
“I know, it’s absolutely wild.”
“This is going to be a full season now. They’re going to actually run it.”
She nods a little. “Yep, probably.”
“Wow.” I laugh and shake my head. “This is everything I’ve been working for.” I hesitate a second. “Everything we’ve been working for,” I correct myself.
“I know.”
“Why aren’t I more excited?” I ask softly.
She turns to me, chin tilted up in my direction. I’m quiet as she stares into my eyes.
“Did you mean it?” she asks softly.
“Every word.”
“You’re not lying? Just trying to… I don’t know. Trick me again?”
“No, no tricks,” I say softly. “No bullshit, no blackmail, nothing. Just the truth.”
She bits her lower lip. “Say it,” she whispers. “I want to hear you say it.”
I tilt her chin up, moving it closer. “I love you,” I say, almost a whisper.
She kisses me. Her tongue in my mouth, her lips against mine. It’s like her taste is in every inch of my body as I kiss her back, slow and deep and right.
“I love you too,” she says when she breaks away. She laughs a little bit, shaking her head. “It’s crazy, right?”