In Development

by Rachel Spangler

  Cobie silenced her with a kiss. All the rigidity eased from Lila’s shoulders as her hands came to rest on Cobie’s hips. Cobie reveled in the brush of her softening lips and drank from the sweetness of their shared breath.

  “Thank you,” Lila said as they parted.

  “Thank you,” Cobie replied. “Now tell me about all the important work you have to do.”

  Lila’s jaw twitched. “We need to go over today’s press and start working out our break-up schedule.”

  Cobie’s heart gave one painful thud. “What?”

  Lila turned and walked into the studio where she’d spread out several newspapers and magazines on her glossy black piano. Cobie followed her slowly, all the skip gone from her step. Dread circled her like an icy wind.

  Every one was open to a photo of Cobie and Cordelia Esme. Never mind that each was basically the same shot, either from a different angle or lit differently or cropped differently. A few of the stories had other photos of Cobie and Lila together or of Lila alone at the piano, but the sum total made it look like Cobie had spent most of her evening ensconced on the terrace with another woman while her girlfriend had sung her heart out inside.

  “The event was covered by every major media outlet,” Lila finally said.

  “Cover or skewed?” Cobie asked, collecting the papers. “They make me look like a philanderer.”

  “They make you look dark, edgy, morally ambiguous, basically you’re Vale.”

  “Yeah, well, Vale is single. I’m not.”

  “About that,” Lila said as she walked around the piano, still inspecting the photographs. “I know we initially said we’d drag things out with a couple of big public fights, but that was before last night.”

  “Before we made love?” Cobie asked, her hope rebounding. “Before we slept in each other’s arms?”

  Lila winced. “Before you were photographed getting cozy with another pop star.”

  “The only pop star I got cozy with last night was you,” Cobie said, “and you know that.”

  “Hmm.” Lila made a noncommittal sound and pointed to a photo spread in the Post. “Did you see this one?”

  Cobie glanced over her shoulder to inspect a shot of Cobie holding tightly to Lila’s wrist as she tried to pull away.

  “I wish more photographers had gotten that angle. Have you been online? Maybe there’s video.” She pulled out her phone while Cobie stared on in disbelief. “Look, one came up right away. Access Hollywood posted it two hours ago.”

  Cobie heard her voice coming from the phone. “You’re all in my business all the time. I can’t even talk to someone without you getting jealous and judgmental.”

  “Lila.” Cobie tried to interrupt, but the video wouldn’t pause itself.

  “Oh sure, now you don’t have anything to say?” Cobie continued through phone. “What, you don’t want all your fancy friends to hear there’s trouble in paradise? Wouldn’t want anyone to see the cracks in your glittery armor.”

  “That was good,” Lila said almost admiringly.

  Cobie snatched the phone from her hand. “That was a play, fiction. It wasn’t real.”

  “Real is what we make it.” Lila grabbed the phone back. “And we can make a lot out of this. We could spin the story so you actually run off with Cordelia.”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  “Yeah, she could never pull that off,” Lila said quickly. “A little slow on the uptake, that one.”

  Cobie frowned. Cordelia hadn’t seemed slow to her. She’d seemed kind and honest, but now didn’t seem like the time to say so.

  “I think the best option here is to paint me as jealous and dramatic and possessive. I could work with that. I could play the nightmare girlfriend driven crazy by her own suspicions.”

  “Are we still talking about acting, because that’s actually what this feels like here.”

  “We’ve only ever been acting,” Lila said quickly, but a little muscle in her jaw twitched, telling Cobie the lie hadn’t exactly rolled off her tongue.

  She pounced. “Bullshit, Lila. You don’t believe that. I don’t for a second believe you do. You can tell yourself whatever you want about what happened at the party. I don’t care. But you cannot pretend like what happened between us didn’t matter or didn’t change anything for you, because I was there.”

  Lila rolled her eyes but seemed lost for an actual comeback.

  “What the hell happened between then and now?”

  “I got back to work,” Lila said coolly. “I suggest you do so too.”

  “No,” Cobie said flatly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “If by going back to work you mean stop caring about you, about us, then I won’t. If going back to work means I pretend everything I know to be fake is real and everything I know in my heart to be real is just some game, then I’m done.”

  “Done?” Lila asked incredulously. “Something doesn’t go your way, so you just walk out?”

  “Go my way?” Cobie looked around the room dramatically. “Are there cameras in here? Am I being punked? Are the paparazzi looking in the window? Why won’t you acknowledge what happened last night?”

  “We had sex last night,” Lila said bluntly.

  “We made love.”

  “If you want to call it that, fine. It was wonderful, Cobie.” Lila’s voice softened. “Truly. I will always cherish those memories, but they don’t change anything. We both have dreams and plans. We both have careers, and we both have goals. That’s why we got together, and that’s why we have to go our separate ways. We can’t let temporary feelings get in the way of what really matters.”

  “Oh,” Cobie said stepping back. “Temporary feelings versus what really matters. Yeah, well, if that’s what we’re talking about here, I guess I can’t blame you for, um, for dumping me, I guess.”

  “I’m not dumping you. We’re following through on a business arrangement.”

  “Saying it that way actually makes it feel worse.” Cobie tried to keep her voice steady despite finding it hard to draw a full breath. “I can handle being dumped. I’ve been rejected before. But last night, hell, the last few weeks, since I don’t even know for sure when, it wasn’t about business for me.”

  “Everything’s about business for me,” Lila said flatly. “It’s all I’ve got.”

  “Did you ever think those two things might be related?” Cobie asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Maybe all you’ve got is business because that’s all you ever let matter,” Cobie said. “Maybe that’s why you run through a string of fake relationships a mile long instead of making real human connections.”

  “I think it’s time for you to leave the studio now.”

  “Why? I thought this was supposed to be an honest space, an open space, or is that something else that only applies to you? ’Cause you seem to have a lot of those spaces in your life.” Cobie exploded. “You love rules when they’re keeping everyone around you in check, but you don’t care for them much when they bite you in the ass. Well, guess what? It’s all going to come back and bite you in the ass.”

  “Cobie,” Lila warned, but Cobie refused to heed her tone.

  “You can micromanage your songs and your career and your marketing. You can hold stadiums in the palm of your hand.” She had picked up steam now, and if she had to get thrown out, she intended to do so on her own terms. “You can line up a row full of pretty people to be seen on your arm wearing all the hippest trends. You can control your tight little empire.”

  “Oh, I intend to.”

  “But where will they be when you stumble, and you will stumble eventually, Lila. Everyone does. Late at night when the music fades and the lights are low, will you even recognize yourself in the mirror? What will you do when you’ve lied so much you don’t remember what was real? When you’ve sold out everyone who cares about you? Will your limelight keep you warm? What about those trends you’re always chasing? Will they hold you at night whil
e you cry?”

  “I mean it, Cobie. If you don’t walk away right now—”

  “You’ll what? Break up with me? You’ll say bad things about me in the press? How’s that any different than what you’re doing now? At least maybe then you’d be telling the truth. Maybe if I’m a jerk I could at least make an honest woman out of you.”

  “All right,” Lila snapped. “That’s enough. I wanted to do this the easy way. I was prepared to play the bad guy, the crazy girlfriend, the drama queen to your steady, stoic, upright self, because believe it or not, I actually do care about you.”

  Cobie snorted. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

  “Maybe I do, but then again, maybe if you didn’t have your head so far up your sanctimonious ass you could see something other than your own point of view. God, you’re such a hypocrite.”

  “Me? A hypocrite? That’s rich coming from someone who orchestrates fauxmances to score press points.”

  “And what exactly do you think you’ve been doing for the last few months?” Lila shot back. “Knitting hats for newborns? Working in a soup kitchen? Traveling the world with the Peace Corps? Oh wait, you’ve been right here beside me the whole time.”

  “That’s different.”

  “Get off your moral high horse for a minute there, cowgirl, and tell me, did you or did you not agree to date me in the hopes of getting a movie deal?”

  “I did, but—”

  “And did you or did you not kiss me at a time when you felt anything but romantic because the press was watching?”

  “Yes, but you—”

  “And did you feel me up in a club when you knew the paparazzi would be given a full view?”

  “Lila stop—”

  “Have you been living here under my roof, going to my concerts, wearing my designs because you fell head over heels with me the first morning at Stan and Mimi’s office, or did you do so because attaching yourself to me would help you get to make Talia’s movie?”

  Cobie opened her mouth, but she couldn’t decide what to say. There were so many questions, and not just the ones Lila had asked.

  “That’s what I thought. You used me to get a career boost, the exact same way I used you. You knew the agreement going in, and you signed on the dotted line anyway.”

  “But I tried to be honest. I tried at every turn to be fair.”

  “You didn’t,” Lila said matter-of-factly. “Fair would have been accepting the terms at face value. Fair would have been not trying to change the agreement halfway through. Fair would have been taking responsibility for your own role in this. Just because you bitched and moaned about the details doesn’t make you any better than me. If anything, it makes you more disingenuous.”

  “I’m not going to stand here and be lectured to about honesty by you, of all people.”

  “Why not?” Lila asked. “I’m the only one who was honest about what I wanted out of this relationship. I never pretended to be someone I’m not. You even lied to yourself. I’ve been painfully truthful about what I want from you, from my career, and from my life. I was also up front about what mattered to me and how I intended to protect it.”

  “Am I supposed to thank you for that? Pin a medal on your chest? Give you an award for being some cutthroat business shark who’s willing to sell your own love life to make a few bucks. You’ve never done a selfless thing in your whole life. You’ve never lifted a finger for anything that doesn’t serve your own interests. Owning that doesn’t make you a hero. It makes you soulless.”

  “And what does it make you?” Lila asked. “Because the only difference between us right now is I can admit what I’m doing and why. Can you say the same, Cobie?”

  Cobie stood there, eyes wide, face burning. She had so many emotions roiling inside her right now, but she couldn’t give voice to them. Had Lila merely stunned her into submission, or was her silence born out of shame? Lila was right about a few things. She’d never misled Cobie about her intentions. She had never lied about her priorities or her goals. Cobie had gone into their relationship with her eyes wide open. She’d known exactly what she had signed on for, and she’d given the whole charade her signature of approval anyway. If she’d lied at any point about the nature of who they were or what they were doing together, it had only been to herself.

  “Look,” Lila finally said, more softly, “I’m not sorry for what we’ve done. I don’t regret anything, but you and I both know that happily-ever-after is just some myth people like us help perpetuate with our songs and movies. That’s the nature of the business, but in the end, it’s all we really have to go on. Business.”

  Cobie’s chest ached, but she couldn’t argue with all the self-doubt whirling through her mind. She didn’t know what she believed anymore. She wasn’t even sure who she was.

  When Cobie didn’t reply, Lila nudged her again. “I have to get back to work now.”

  “Yeah,” Cobie finally mumbled as she turned to go. “I guess you do.”

  • • •

  The studio had no windows, which filled the dual purpose of enhancing sound quality and limiting distractions. It also helped the room function as a sort of de facto time deprivation chamber. Lila wasn’t sure if she’d been inside for hours or days, but either way, she had little to show for her dedication. She’d written and scrapped no less than seven tunes and hadn’t approached anything even resembling a cohesive lyric. Worst of all, she had no one but herself to blame, though that didn’t stop her from yelling at Felipe when he knocked on the door.

  “Doesn’t anyone around here understand what it means when I go into the studio? Am I the only person here with a job to do? Do I follow any of you around interrupting your work time?”

  “Yeah, all the time, Ms. Thang,” Felipe said as he swung open the door.

  “Felipe, get out. I’m not leaving here until I write a godforsaken love song.”

  “Sounds like you’re coming right along, and I’ll let you get back to your thrilling progress, but I wanted you to know Cobie’s leaving.”

  “Fine. I don’t need the car tonight. Tell Malik to drive her wherever she needs to go.”

  “No, girl,” he said more slowly. “She’s not going out. She’s leaving. As in, like, taking her own car and all her suitcases.”

  “What?” Lila rose from the piano bench so quickly that several of her stiff muscles spasmed and she had to brace herself before forcing them to move again. “We never agreed to that. She never said a word about leaving. Tell her to come here.”

  “Yeah.” He drew out the word to have multiple syllables. “Not going to happen.”

  “You’re not going to tell her, or she’s not going to listen?”

  “Both, either, D, all of the above,” Felipe said with a dramatic shake of his head. “This message was for informational purposes only. Need to know, just like you been keeping me lately.”

  She rolled her eyes. She’d have to deal with that little comment later. Right now, she had more pressing concerns. She strode purposefully across the room and thundered down the stairs in time to see Cobie fish her keys out of her pocket. She wore dark jeans and a black hoodie. Her black hair was spiked in its usual haphazard way, adding a chic edge, but she’d foregone the make-up she’d taken to using lately. She didn’t need it anyway. The circles under her eyes more than compensated for the lack of eye shadow, even in profile.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.” Cobie said the word as if it hurt.

  “To the Catskills?”

  “Yes.”

  “For how long?”

  Cobie finally looked her square in the face. “We’re done, Lila.”

  She gasped at the finality of the statement. “But we still have work—”

  “No,” Cobie said calmly. “You have work. I have work. You’ve got your story. I’ve got mine. We have run our course. We are over. You said so already. It’s time to tie up the loose ends.”

  “You’re just angry about earlier.”r />
  “I’m not,” Cobie said, then seemed to think for a few seconds. “What I feel isn’t anger, and even if it were, it’s not aimed at you. You made valid points. You go after what you want, and you shouldn’t have to apologize or feel guilty about that, but I need to get to that point too, and I can’t do it here.”

  “You can’t do it with me around, you mean.”

  “Yes. That too. I got in over my head with you, Lila. Again, my fault. I take responsibility. I played the willing fool, but I’ve been typecast before, and I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I need to break out of that role before it becomes too natural for me.”

  “No discussion? You’ve made up your mind and there’s nothing I can do to change it?”

  Cobie shrugged. “I don’t know. Is there?”

  Lila pursed her lips. She knew what Cobie wanted her to say: that she hadn’t meant anything she’d said earlier, she really did care about her, their time together hadn’t all been a game. But what did any of that matter? Because it was the truth? The truth didn’t solve anything. Truth was an abstract concept. The truth wouldn’t save her from loneliness, from doubt, from grief. Nothing lasted forever. People always left when things got hard, a point Cobie was proving expertly right now. Things hadn’t gone the way she’d wanted, so she was out. Lila should be glad for the reminder. It should have hardened her resolve. Instead, she said, “I really thought you were different.”

  “I am,” Cobie said sadly, “but I forgot that for a while.”

  “So that’s it?” Lila asked, a sense of helplessness rolling over her.

  Cobie nodded. “I hope you get whatever you want with the new album, your career, everything. You deserve it.”

  Lila couldn’t tell if the statement was meant to be a compliment or a cut-down, but all the fight had drained out of her, or maybe the sadness had merely pushed it aside.

  “Hey, just to prove there’s no hard feelings, I left you a peace offering upstairs.” Cobie said it with a sad smile. “It’s probably not good enough for you, but at least I’ll be able to say I tried.”

  “Tried what?” Lila asked suspiciously.