Off Screen

by Josephine Traynor

  While I’m trying to free myself from his grip, Allan tells me to wait there. Riley’s almost out the door when a stagehand stops her, and I let out of sigh of relief. Everyone starts to clap as Allan announces that this was her final scene and hands her a huge bunch of flowers.

  Final scene?

  “I think everything that needed to be said was said last night,” he says.

  What?

  “It hasn’t always been a pleasure to work with you, but you are a true professional when it comes to your work. We wish you well in your future endeavours. Put your hands together for Riley.”

  The room erupts with cheers and hollers as she continues to look directly at me. Her face crumples before she turns and leaves. Those weren’t second-chance kisses. They were goodbye. She loves me but she’s told me there’s no chance for us to be together.

  Grabbing hold of Allan’s arm, I’m seething when I ask, “What the hell is this all about?”

  “What’s what all about? Riley’s out of her contract. We spent yesterday shooting her death scene. This honeymoon is all Declan’s dream sequence.”

  Feeling like my heart has been ripped from my chest and kicked across the floor, I take a seat on the bed.

  “She didn’t tell you, did she? Come on. Let’s talk about this in your dressing room. The crew doesn’t need to see your broken heart.”

  I don’t want to hear it from Allan, I want to hear it from the woman herself. Why the hell didn’t Dominic hear about this? Why didn’t he tell me? Why am I learning about this as she’s walking out the door? My feet pick up the pace, and I move through the studio and almost rip the hallway door off the hinges to her dressing room. Forgoing a knock, I push Riley’s dressing room door open to find the room bare. Someone must have cleaned it out while we were shooting.

  It becomes obvious why Allan calls my name when I set off for the car park.

  Her car is gone.

  She’s gone.

  And she’s taken my heart with her.

  The jog back to my dressing room to get my car keys is a blur as Allan continues to yell after me.

  “She said you knew and to talk about it would make you cry,” he said. “That’s why we didn’t mention it.”

  Checkmate, Riley. You got to have the last word.

  “I don’t know what happened between you two, but she’s gone. Lydia contacted the studio at about nine on Friday night. Set the writers in a spin to write her exit scene. We shot her accident last night, and she held an impromptu farewell.” Allan looks genuinely sad as he continues. “Riley spoke very highly of you, but she said she had to move on. Something about life has to be spent living, not hurting.”

  Letting my head drop forward, I wring my shirt in my fists and say, “I fucked up.”

  Allan takes a seat next to me and places his hand on my shoulder. “I thought as much. You were bound to. The two of you were going to end up killing each other or loving each other. I was hoping for it to be the latter.” He tells me that we will shoot my scenes tomorrow and I have to be in makeup by seven. “I’m not sure which direction the writers are going to take your character, but if you want to jump ship, too, then you need to talk to your pal, Dominic.”

  The only person I’m interested in talking to is Riley.

  The last thread of hope fades when I knock on her door until my knuckles are bloody and sore. Hedging my bets, I sent Lydia a message asking to please tell me where Riley is. A scan of her social media again gives me nothing. The rumours are running rife with that picture of us circulating and all the tabloids wanting to know who this mystery woman is. I’m still checking her fan club page for any kind of hint. Her last post was yesterday, encouraging everyone to live their fullest life. Turning to walk down the front steps, I’m stopped when Lydia stands before me.

  “Lydia. Please. Help me make this right, I’ll do anything.”

  “There’s no point. She’s gone. You fucked up royally. You took my best friend away from me, you broke my best friend’s heart.”

  Lydia pushes past me, and I quickly follow up the steps behind her. “What do you mean, took your best friend away from you?”

  “I’m not telling you anything. You broke not only her heart but worse, her trust. Not only that, you managed to break her career. She’s taking some time to think clearly. And ask yourself. If she had done this to you, would you forgive her so easily?”

  With the slam of the door in my face, I already know the answer. I resign myself to the fact that whatever I do, Riley’s not going to want to talk to me, so the point is moot. Racking my brains, I go to the one person who’s always given me good advice.

  “Absolutely not. I will not be your wingman on this.” Amy shakes her head vigorously while I send another call to my message bank. Word has clearly got out that Riley has left the show. The studio has released a statement while Riley has stayed unusually quiet on the subject.

  “I’m not asking you to be my wingman. I want to know if you know anything. Everything on Riley has gone dark. She posted a broken heart about an hour ago, and I want to tell her she’s not the only one hurting.”

  “Sounds like you had your chance to say something and you didn’t take it. Have you learned nothing about life?” She doesn’t draw breath as she continues to berate me. “Get Kit to help you out of this. He’s the one who said he’d help put you into this mess in the first place.”

  Both of our phones chime at the same time with a notification, and I scramble for my phone. Riley has posted a picture in her fan group in response to the headlines that me being seen with that mystery woman was the last straw.

  “I can’t say too much about the storyline, but it’s true. It’s time for me to pack my bags and leave Restless Times to embark on a new phase of my life. My time at RS has been invaluable. It’s taught me so much. The crew and the cast have been my greatest teachers. It’s time to let my heart go.”

  Rereading the message, I know it’s time to let my heart go. It’s time she let my heart go.

  “You really fucked up,” Amy says, throwing a fiver in the swear jar.

  Pulling out a twenty, I agree.

  Dominic and I spend the next few hours going through each pro and con about me staying or going like Riley did to help me come to my final decision. If I had something lined up and ready to move to, I wouldn’t hesitate, I’d be gone. Money isn’t an issue, I’ve made some smart choices. Restless Times got me my start, and if I leave, I want to do it on my own terms so I decide to stay. I would like to try my hand at writing some of the storylines. What he comes back with might change my mind a bit. Turns out the scenes they had us shoot down on location were going to lend themselves to how the studio was going to go with our employment. They were pre-empting that we couldn’t work together all along. The studio is abuzz with writers yelling ideas at each other, while stagehands are hanging around outside in the parking lot unable to make up any sets without knowing what’s happening. Dominic looks like he’s about to throw up when he meets me at my dressing room door.

  “The network executives are here, the show hinges on you,” he says as his skin pales.

  It doesn’t. There are other characters who could be lifted into bigger parts.

  “They are here because they want to know what you’re doing.”

  When I tell Allan I’m staying, he damn near cries. “On the proviso that there are a couple of changes to my contract.”

  Dominic runs through my requests, and Allan can’t stop smiling. “I don’t see why that would be a problem. Let’s go and tell them now.”

  It’s another hour, but all parties are happy. Well, I’m as happy as I can be. I’ll be getting a chance to work on storylines and be credited as a writer. They are working out when and how they are going to set up a love interest when Allan speaks up.

  “The character has just lost the love of his life. We’ll leave his love interest alone for a while.”

  Appreciating the sentiment, I don’t know if he realises h
ow close to the mark he is.

  Heading back to my dressing room, I stop as I pass hers. Riley’s perfume still lingers. News travels fast that I’m staying and how we go about filling the gaping hole Riley’s left. The writers have moved her out in a car crash. It’s the quickest and easiest way.

  “I hear she doesn’t have anything lined up.” Dominic’s manner when talking about Riley has changed. He hasn’t called her one derogatory word and seems to be skirting around wanting to say something.

  “Do you know where she’s been looking?”

  Setting a steaming coffee before him, he shakes his head. “Maybe she’s having a wanderlust year? Just taking some time off to collect herself. Make some plans.” He places his pen down. “I need to make sure you’re okay. You two have been living a marriage-like relationship for the past two years on this show. Granted, you might never have seen eye to eye, but it’s a relationship nonetheless.” Dominic takes a sip. “You have the face of a man with a broken heart.”

  “I just don’t know how to fix it. It seems irreparable. I’m still making decisions like she’s still here. What sucks the most, I can’t make it up to her.”

  I might not be able to make it up to her, but I can still try.

  I check Riley’s social accounts again, and everything is as she left it. Sending a message to Amy, I don’t expect her to respond but I’m glad she does and I’m even more excited when Amy tells me that Riley has stopped by the hospital to see the kids. My heart aches to see her even though I’m so thankful to her for taking the time to be with them.

  “She spent about three hours here,” Amy says without even saying a hello when she picked up my call. “She looked awful. Like she hasn’t slept for days because she’s so heartbroken.”

  “Really?”

  “No.” Amy scoffs. “Get over yourself. She’s beautiful as always but she did look sad when she asked me not to talk about you while I did her nails.”

  Hearing about how they talked about everything but me was hard enough.

  “Did I tell you she got me a whole professional nail set? Told me to pick out ten colours to start with and she’ll have them for when she comes back in a couple of days.”

  I lift my head as Amy gives away information she probably shouldn’t have.

  “Shit.”

  “Swear jar. Where is she going?”

  After some poking and prodding, she relents. “Somewhere where she can clear her head. Somewhere where no one knows where she is.”

  “Somewhere remote?” I know exactly where she’s gone. “She’s gone to the coast. Back to our cabin?”

  “I’m not confirming nor denying this information.”

  Smiling at her attitude, I assure her she’s not going to be in trouble. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “Because your heart is broken.”

  And it’s time to fix it.

  Since we are ahead in shooting, the studio has no issue with giving me the next two days off from having to be on the lot while they work out what they are going to use from the footage and where they want future storylines to go. I ask Dominic if I can borrow his car—I don’t want my car to attract attention or have one of the paparazzi that’s hanging around at the front gate to follow my Porsche. Ducking down in the back, Dominic drives the car to his house where I slide into the driver’s seat.

  I ensure the fuel is at the top; I don’t want to have any reason to stop until I arrive there. As suspected, her car is parked just outside the cabin as I bring Dominic’s to a stop. Movement from the veranda catches my attention, and I see Riley get to her feet. The intoxicating smell of the ocean helps relax my nerves while I make my way over in silence.

  While I stop at the bottom step, Riley leans on the railing at the top and crosses her arms in front.

  “I knew she’d cave. Even bribed her with nail polishes to not tell,” she says. She looks beautiful as always. No makeup. Her hair is loose and is now a light brown. “What do you want, Harrison?” she asks, effectively cutting out the small talk.

  We’ve never been ones to beat around the bush, and I’m not about to start now.

  “I came down here for one more chance.” My request makes her scoff and then sigh. “I know I’ve ruined my chances for anything more but I do want the opportunity to explain.”

  Shaking her head, she says she can’t believe she’s giving me another chance. “Let’s hear it, Harrison. Tell me how you laughed behind my back with your best buddy.”

  Taking a step up, it’s my turn to move my head to tell her she’s wrong. “Never. Never once did I laugh. Remember when Gary sent you those flowers?” Gary was a short-lived stagehand who had his eyes set on Riley. He’d talk about her in a way that made my skin crawl.

  She tells me she vaguely remembers him.

  “That’s because he was such a jerk,” I say. “He was trying to get bets going with the other crew on how long it would take him to bed you. He sent a massive bunch of flowers to you that I intercepted and sent on their merry way to the hospital to be broken up into pretty bunches for the kids.” I continued to tell her that I managed to get him switched to another show, and he eventually got fired for his behaviour.

  “Thank you for looking out for me and keeping the jerk at bay, but that doesn’t explain why you did what you did.”

  “Like all good stories, you have to have the build-up,” I say and take another step up to her. “As if you were going to ever go out for a drink with me. The intention was to find out what you liked. Hope to have something in common so we could reset our relationship. Believe me, Kit felt like he was caught between a rock and a hard place.” I tell her that I never expected it to turn out like it did. “I can’t tell you how bad I feel that I put either of you in that position. But I’m not sorry for getting to know you. There was always part of me that loved you and I will love you forever, but spending this time with you … This last week, not only do I love you more but, man, this is hard to admit. I like you. In the last week, we were able to have everything I’ve wanted to have with you. And I’ve ruined it. It’s all me.” I fight the urge to take her hand as she takes a step down and we are now eye level.

  “Yes. You fucked up.”

  “That’s what Amy said.”

  Her eyes well with tears. “I just can’t let you hurt me again, Harrison. That’s all our relationship has been. This one hurt. The lies. That really hurt. I don’t need a relationship where I’ll be second-guessing or doubting everything you say to me.”

  Tentatively, I reach for her hand, and she retreats when my fingers touch hers before she grips around mine. “No more chances. Now that we are off-screen, there are no more chances for me to fuck up. I want this. I want everything with you. I’m giving you my honesty.” We stand silently looking at each other. “I love you.”

  “I can’t,” she whispers and squeezes my fingers.

  “You can’t what?”

  “I can’t say it to you. I do but I can’t say it. I can’t let you hurt me again.”

  “Let me prove to you that I won’t. You know more about me than anyone else does. Even Kit.” I see that was the wrong name to drop. “Let me love you freely. Without restriction. Without hiding it.” She nods, but I’m not sure what she means. If I keep talking, I’m going to keep rambling. “Thank you for hearing me out.”

  When she doesn’t speak, I resolve that this is the end. The ocean sounds heavenly, and I might find another spot just to sit quietly and nurse my broken heart when I leave her. Taking solace that she’s safe and I know where she is, puts my mind at ease. “Hope Amy picks some decent colours, remember whose nails she’s painting.”

  “Did you want to come in for a coffee?”

  My hopes rise. “Do you want me to come in?” Even though she doesn’t verbalise it, her nod, the gentle tug on my hand, and the step she takes to the door says she does.

  It might be coffee, but I’ll take it.

  That coffee turns into twelve ho
urs of talking face to face on the small sofa. At times, her hand taps against my leg or knee. Talking from Riley. Her tears tear at my heart for making her feel so bad. She’s made a simple dinner, and we continue to talk things over, even have a few laughs.

  “I’m hurting, too. You left me. I was the last to know you left the show.”

  Scooping her hair to tie it into a low ponytail, she purses her lips. “I thought about that. I wanted to hurt you.” Her voice starts to shake as she says she wanted to hurt me so I could feel the pain I made her feel.

  “Tell me what I can do to make it better. If that means leaving you alone, then you have to say the words.”

  Wiping her cheeks free of tears, she says, “I never thought I’d be the girl who cries. I don’t want to cry over you anymore, Harrison. I just know I couldn’t look at you every day, running lines about being in love with you when you hurt me.”

  “My pin number is one, two, three, four. My first pet’s name was Mittens. I was the only guy in my drama class at school because my intention was to meet all the women. Ask me anything, and I’ll tell you the truth. You said about the characters in my screenplay have something great worth fighting for. I think this is the valley. We just have to fight our way to the peak. I’m willing to fight. I love you. I will fight for you. Will you let me love you how you deserve to be loved?”

  “Your pin number is one, two, three, four?”

  “You got that from everything I said?”

  A cheeky smile appears as she pulls out a pack of cards from her pocket. “High card, we give it another try. Low, we let it go.”

  She hands me the cards to shuffle, and I tap the top for her to cut. Her fingers hover over the deck before she decides on where she wants to pick. My heart pulses hard in my throat while I wait to see the result. When her fingers relax, she moves her hand away.

  “I don’t need a card to tell me what I want.”