by Tabitha Bree
Vik tilts his head. “It happens.”
“Not for me, it didn’t,” I chuckle. “She dumped me for a jock the night of graduation.”
Vik makes a whistling noise.
“Yep. Didn’t date seriously for years, not until Willow.”
I pause, wondering if I should keep going. I’ve never talked about this stuff with anyone. Only Jack, and she is basically my sister.
“Doesn’t seem like things turned out too well there,” Vik says. “I don’t follow the Hollywood gossip, but you hear snippets.”
“Yeah, snippets of bullshit.”
I take a long sip of my drink. It’s strong. Possibly spiked with truth serum.
“I met Willow when I had established my career, when everyone already knew me as a rock star. She was so talented and ambitious, I thought, this is it. We can tackle the industry together. Us against the world.” I laugh, shaking my head. “I thought we had the whole Bonnie and Clyde thing going. Dumb, I know.”
“You made a handsome couple,” Vik says, the way older people do.
“Yeah… well… turns out she found other people handsome too.” My jaw hardens and I swish the rest of my drink around in the coconut. “There was never any point setting the record straight. I mean, who would believe me? I had insane fans, groupies following me everywhere I went. As far as the world was concerned, I was a sex-crazed asshole who broke the heart of the sweet girl next door.”
I move my straw to the side, pouring the drink into my mouth as the balmy sea breeze whips through my drying hair.
“Anyway, I guess I’m tapped out. I am the good kid and my mom leaves. A nice guy in high school and my girl dumps me. I am the bad boy, and my girl cheats. Maybe I just have to accept that I’m the problem. I can never get it right.”
Vik puts his drink on the little table between us, swinging his legs around and placing his feet on the sand.
“Or maybe you realize the problem was with those women, and nothing to do with you. Maybe you remember that there are good people out there, and you just haven’t found the right one yet.” He leans forward and places a hand on my shoulder. “You’re a good man. Don’t let the actions of other people define who you are.”
Picking up his drink, he sips through the straw until a crackling noise can be heard. “Next round’s on me.”
17
Dee
Sweating my ass off on an eight-mile hike was exactly what my restless mind needed. The lava flow was amazing. Being so close as it bubbled and oozed over the track gave me a weird sense of power and control. It was proof that you can get close to the fire without getting burned.
Me, Sadie, Jayden and a few others are going to finish the day at a restaurant in town, so as soon as we get back from our volcano adventures, I jump in the shower. Getting clean feels like heaven, and I lather my body with the coconut body wash provided by the resort. After I dry, I lather myself in lotion and swap out my hiking gear for a long, flowing skirt that ties at the waist, and a crop top. I feel free, but not in a dangerous way. I’ve just decided to stop being so hard on myself.
I slip on my sandals and head downstairs to meet the others, but knowing I’m about twenty minutes early, I head out to the patio to watch the sun dipping toward the horizon. The sky is painted yellow and purple, and as I pull out my phone to capture the moment, the gentle strumming of a guitar drifts through the air.
I crane my neck to see where it’s coming from, walking around to the side of the patio. Down on the sand, I spot the source of the sound. Sitting on a sun lounger is a man, and he’s wearing a bright pink matching Hawaiian shirt and shorts. As he plays on, I can hear his voice, but I can’t see his face.
I quietly make my way down the steps so I can get closer. I’m not even sure why, but suddenly I’m just drawn to him. Like he’s the Pied Piper and I’m powerless against the beautiful sound coming from his mouth and fingers.
I’m about to sit down on a chair a safe distance away when he turns and I get the profile of his face.
It’s Xavier.
My mouth drops in shock.
I’ve heard Xavier’s music a hundred times, and this is nothing like the electric guitar and belting that I’m used to. It’s soft… delicate in a way that feels intimate, like he’s sharing a secret that he’s never told anyone.
I don’t want him to think I’ve snuck up on him, but I can’t move, either. I’m fixated on his voice, on the way he gently strums the strings. The song is not familiar, not a cover and not anything he’s ever played before. I’m struck by how relaxed he seems… how lost in this moment he appears.
Until he looks up and sees me standing there.
Fuck.
Normally when I catch his eye, it’s followed by a smirk or a cheeky grin. Probably an inappropriate sexual innuendo. But now he seems startled, and he puts the guitar down, scratching the back of his neck coyly. Walking away now would be weird, so I make my way over to his sun lounger, smiling in a tight line.
“I wasn’t creeping on you,” I say. “I heard music and wanted to know where it was coming from.”
Now that I’m in front of him, I get the full extent of his ensemble. Wow.
“Nice outfit.”
He chuckles, dipping his head. “Yeah, Vik made me. I think I’m warming up to it, though.” He stretches his legs out, digging his heels into the sand and smiling at his shorts like he and them share a private joke. Something’s different about him. This isn’t the wise cracking guy making jokes about bathroom sex or pulling ridiculous pranks to get under my skin. It’s like he’s shed his outer layer, and I’m getting my first glimpse of the man inside.
“What was that song?”
He shrugs. “Nothing, just something stupid I wrote in high school.” He plucks at one of the strings, and I can tell it isn’t really stupid to him.
“I can imagine you were a nightmare for the girls back then, too.” I smile, sitting down on the other sun lounger. “Breaking teenage hearts with those chords.”
His smile fades, and he nods at the sand. “Pretty much.”
I observe his expression. “We’ve never talked about life before the film. What were you like at school?”
“Just basically what you said.” His mouth downturns as he inspects his calloused fingertips. “I was a musician, grades weren’t great, never committed to anyone… I was just having fun, being a kid, I guess.”
My eyes narrow. There is something forced about his nonchalance, like he’s reciting lines instead of speaking from memory.
“Did you know I have a party trick?” I ask as he finally looks me in the eye.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it never fails, either.” I tilt my head to the side. “I can always tell when someone is bullshitting.”
Xavier’s eyes focus on mine, intense and curious. “Is that right?”
I’m sure he’s going to brush me off, but I raise my eyebrows, testing the waters. He looks out to the ocean, squinting against the setting sun. I should just go back inside to meet the others, but just as I’m getting up, he turns back to me.
“Okay, I’ll play your game.” He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, interlacing his fingers. “High school for me was… torture.”
I frown. Not the word I was expecting him to use.
“You know the band geeks? Yeah, I was one of those.” He’s smiling, but I can see a glimmer of pain in his eyes. “With the braces and the acne to match. It was tragic.”
I laugh good-naturedly. “Somehow I can’t picture that.”
“You mean because you’re used to the handsome creature in front of you?” He looks up and smiles crookedly, his blue irises sparkling. I roll my eyes and he laughs, looking back at the sand. “I’m kidding… but no, school wasn’t a great time for me. I mean, I had a couple of friends. Mainly Jack, who’s still my best friend now… my only friend, really…”
His face turns serious.
“My dad was a real softie, a great guy. Every
one loved him. He taught me that if I liked a girl, I should woo her. ‘Be a gentleman’, he would say. ‘Be sweet, girls like to know they are appreciated’. So… I would write songs. And I would practice them around the school yard.” He laughs once, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You can imagine I was an easy target for the cool kids.”
The sun is kissing the ocean now, and he stares into it, his eyes watering. From my own experience, I can translate what he means by ‘cool kids’.
Bullies.
“I actually did get a girlfriend, though. And I was really happy. She liked me even though I was a dork and made me believe it was okay to be myself. I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world to be with her. She was smart, pretty, creative. But like everything… that didn’t work out for me either.”
His jaw hardens, like he’s stuck on the part of his memory reel that’s difficult to watch. I almost want to reach out and touch him, but I don’t want to spook him. I want to hear the rest.
“Eventually I realized I had to play their game to survive, to succeed. I realized nice guys did finish last… and I didn’t want to keep losing. I sure as hell didn’t want to keep getting beaten up. I started dressing different, lost the braces, my skin cleared up, and I became a different person. I came to LA as a rock star, signed with my label, and made myself something. I wanted to prove to all those people in high school I was better than them, that I was important, that it meant something to be Xavier Black.”
He diverts his eyes to mine. “And you want to know what happened to the people who made my life hell? What they did when I rose to fame?”
I shake my head, transfixed on his pupils… on the tension between his eyebrows…
He sniffs, shrugging. “They found their soul mates… got married, built homes, had kids… While I was proving myself to them, their lives went on. They moved on.”
The way he says it is like he’s only recognizing this for the first time. A silence falls over us and I realize something.
I don’t know this man at all.
The breeze picks up and ripples through my long skirt, exposing my skin to the nearly disappeared sun. It flicks through his black hair, and I watch as it sways back and forth.
He clears his throat. “So anyway, that’s why I almost laughed when you asked me what I knew about acting.” He stands, picking up his guitar. “The truth is, I’ve been putting on an act nearly half my damn life.”
He pulls the guitar strap over his shoulder and slides his hands into his pockets.
“But why stop now, right?” He smirks, but this time, I don’t believe his confidence.
I let him leave… almost feeling bad for making him divulge his painful past to me. This doesn’t feel like the kind of thing he confesses to many people. But as he walks past, headed for the resort, I turn around and lean against the back of the lounger.
“Well, before you transform back to the douchey rock star, can I just say something?”
He stops and faces me.
“That guy? The one who lets his guard down and doesn’t have that whole bravado thing going on?” I smile, resting my chin on my hands. “I hope he makes another appearance, because I could actually be friends with that guy.”
The side of Xavier’s mouth curls up and he presses his lips together, nodding. And then he walks away, leaving behind a trail of footprints in the sand and about a thousand thoughts running through my head.
18
Xavier
I expected to wake up with a hangover, but not the kind you get from drinking alcohol. The kind you get from oversharing, and it comes with waves of embarrassment and remorse. But when I open my eyes early the next morning, I don’t feel that way at all.
My day with Vik was already great, way better than I thought my first day in Hawaii would be. I thought I would hit the brewery, go for a swim, and maybe end the night in a tiki bar by myself, watching everyone else have a good time around me. But what I got was a day of laughs, and sharing… and friendship.
And that wasn’t even counting my conversation with Dee.
When I saw her standing there, I felt naked. Like one of those dreams where you go to school and realize your junk is exposed for the entire world to see. And it’s cold. Real cold.
After she called me out on my horseshit story about being some high school heartbreaker, I considered just going inside, but after the way I felt talking with Vik I thought… why the hell not? Being honest for a change not only felt good, it felt liberating.
Only now it’s weird. I feel more nervous to see Dee than I did the day after we had sex. Sure, she had me inside her that night, but this is more exposing.
I feel seen.
The sun is only just warming up by the time we reach our shooting location—a small clearing amongst the jungle trees. Vehicles can only go so far, so we go the rest of the way by foot, disturbing nature’s wildlife in the process. Chickens rustle, mongoose dart, and Jayden even spots a wild pig a few feet away. Naturally, Emma complains the entire time. I’m surprised she didn’t demand to be escorted via silk mattress carried by four muscular men.
I want to walk with Dee, but I still don’t know how to approach her after yesterday. ‘Hey, it’s me, that guy who told you his pathetic little sob story yesterday’. I don’t know if we are friends or if she will be back to her sassy roots. So I keep a clear distance, walking next to Vik instead.
“Let’s set up,” Katherine says. She looks like an employee out of Jurassic Park, with khaki shorts and shirt tied at the waist. I don’t know what she got up to on our free day, but I would bet that is wasn’t anything fun. That woman works while she sleeps.
“Okay, Xavier, you’ll be here.” Katherine walks to a spot nestled under some ferns. “Crouched low to the ground.” She marches a few feet away into the open. “And Vik, this is where you’ll have Emma, hanging unconscious over your shoulder. Dee, can you make sure talent is ready to go?”
They did my makeup and hair at our unit base outside of the jungle, but rather than risk tearing my costume, I walked to the location in my regular clothes.
“Back to black,” Dee says, ushering me inside a makeshift changing area and nodding at my outfit. “You know, I kind of miss the pink.”
And just like that, there is no tension, no weirdness.
I grin. “You might see it again, if you’re lucky.”
Dee laughs and closes the fabric door.
Two hours into our jungle shoot, everyone is sweating their asses off and looking forward to the next location. As we close in, you can tell we’ve reached it by the ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ of the crew.
A huge waterfall appears before us, and the closer we get to it, the mistier the air becomes.
“We’ll need to set up downwind of that spray,” Katherine notes to George, all business.
We’re shooting a scene where I walk in on Emma, going for a swim at the base of the waterfall. I’m meant to be transfixed by her, but I honestly can’t wait to get this scene out of the way. Sword fighting is a bitch, but I would take it over these awkward scenes with Emma any day.
Once the crew is set up, I get in my starting position and we block through the scene. Emma’s her usual, flirty self… playfully hitting my shoulder and touching me at any chance she gets. I’d find it flattering if there was an ounce of sincerity behind it. But I learned my lesson with Willow. Getting dumped as a teenager when I was being myself sucked, but the women who chase the status and the rock star image are worse.
I wanted to believe Vik when he said there were good people out there, relationships that would fulfill me rather than tear me to shreds. But when enough years go by without it, you question if it actually exists.
Real love.
Nothing in my life felt real… not my looks, not the people I’d surrounded myself with, not my career… nothing felt genuine.
Until yesterday.
I woke up a different man today. A man that had a tiny amount of faith restored. Faith that someday, I
could be myself again, and I’d actually be accepted. There was nothing worse than wearing a mask to fit in all this time, only to have the world drag you, anyway.
But I had Willow and a few others to thank for that.
Once we wrap the scene, the crew is free to cool off in the water. Emma is standing on a rock, running her hands down her long, wet hair and attracting more than a few pairs of eyes, but mine are elsewhere. I spot Dee, over on an inconspicuous mossy landing, edging toward the water with her bare feet. Her hair is pushed back with a band, she has sweat stains on her shirt.
And she is beautiful.
She leans forward, cupping water in her palm and bringing it to the back of her neck. As the water runs down her spine, I can feel the sensation just by her expression—eyes closed, calm, relieved. She scoops the water up and splashes her face. And as the water drops from her full lips, she smiles. And I realize she’s looking at me too.
We’re back at the resort in time for sunset. I planned to have a shower and relax in my room, but when Vik got wind of that, he rounded me up and forced me downstairs.
There’s a spot on the beach with a campfire and huge branches of beach wood, smoothed by the saltwater over time. There’s about ten people down here, including Dee. And suddenly I don’t feel so bad about being made to come.
“Beer, Xavier?” Jayden asks, holding out a can.
“He doesn’t drink beer. His career relies on teenage girls drooling over his shirtless photos,” Vik says with a friendly chuckle.
“I’d love one,” I say, shaking my head.
Sadie is sitting cross-legged on the sand, picking the strings of a ukulele she borrowed from the resort. She’s making sounds, but not an actual melody.
“Do you play?” I ask, sitting on the log behind her. Of course, I’d rather be sitting next to Dee, but my mind is telling me to give her space. It was nice yesterday, when she came to me.