First Comes Like

by Alisha Rai

  “Jia?”

  She covered up her pain with a bright smile. “That’s me. Too much.”

  SOPHIA WEPT PRETTILY on Hudson’s shoulder. “I swear, I didn’t mean to do it, baby.”

  Hudson gazed down at her with anguished tenderness.

  Off to the side of the shot, Dev stifled a yawn. Devastating news in his old serial had required a cut to every single face in the scene, which meant one didn’t get a break. No one was paying attention to him here, so long as he hit his cues.

  Speaking of . . . Dev straightened when the two separated and slapped a smirk on. “She’s lying, Chase. You know it and I know it.”

  “You need to back off.” Hudson thrust his on-screen love behind him.

  “Or what?” Seriously, or what? They needed to toss a good evil mother-in-law into this mix. Everyone on this show was relatively nice, cheating aside.

  Cheating wasn’t the worst thing someone should be able to do to someone on a show. No, that was a new bride washing her husband’s laptop with dishwashing detergent in a misguided attempt to disinfect it.

  He understood if such camp was out of place here, but it would be nice to liven this up with something.

  Hudson took a threatening step. “Or I’ll show Dominic the proof about your little side hustle.”

  “Cut.”

  Dev relaxed. Hudson walked over to him. “Good take, man. Let’s hope they got it so we can finish up early today.”

  It was only ten, but they’d been working since three in the morning. “Let’s hope. Sorry I kept screwing up on that last scene.”

  “You okay? You usually nail things on the first take.” They walked to the shade, out of the studio lights.

  Dev grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it. He did usually nail things on the first take, but then again, he was rarely so . . . what was the word? Bored? “Yes, I’m fine. The script is . . . it doesn’t feel natural to me yet.” Plot aside, he felt underused. He’d thought he’d be a lead in this show, but the more they filmed, the more apparent it became that his role was to act as a dark foil and prop up the golden star.

  It was one thing to be sidelined for the sake of the show, but it was another to be sidelined for a boring and bland hero.

  Hudson nodded sympathetically, his blond hair catching the light. “You should talk to the director. I doubt they’ll rewrite, but they may take your thoughts into account. You’re really killing it, though. The character feels multifaceted.”

  Dev didn’t tell Hudson that he’d already given the writers’ room some notes, and they’d shot him down. Then again, the director might be more willing to consider his concerns. “Thank you.” He glanced around. Their director, Fred, was sitting under an umbrella. He looked like he was busy with the computer he held in his lap, but there was no one else currently bothering him.

  “How’s everything else going here?”

  Dev refocused and gave a faint smile. “Well, thank you. My niece is adjusting to school.” So well that Luna had a sleepover scheduled tonight with a new friend. Dev thought it was fast, but she’d been more excited than he’d ever seen her, so he’d zipped his lips.

  “And you?”

  Him? He was . . .

  Happy. Dev blinked. It had been a while since he’d been happy. Simply texting Jia was better than dates with other women. How had it only been a couple of weeks since she’d come into his life? Perhaps it was all the extracurricular time he’d spent watching her videos, but it felt longer. Like he knew her. “I’m doing great.”

  Hudson clapped him on the back. “Good. Hey, listen, would you like to come over for dinner next week? My wife’s a great cook. Bring a date, if you’d like. And your niece, of course; she might like my daughter.”

  Dev was touched. Hudson might be a bit conceited, but he was kind.

  A date. Of course, there was only one woman he wanted to date. “I will, thank you.”

  “No problem. I’ll text you the address.” He jerked his chin toward Fred. “Looks like Fred’s free. You might want to catch him now.”

  Dev nodded. They said their goodbyes, and then Dev made his way over to Fred. He felt vaguely nervous, which was odd. He’d always merely had to raise an eyebrow on any set and the director had fallen over himself to help him.

  These nerves were good. If he was going to be self-sufficient, he needed to actually be self-sufficient.

  “Fred?”

  The smaller man blinked up at him through his thick glasses. “Dev! My man. You’re killing it.”

  “Thanks. Sorry for all the takes today.”

  Fred waved his hand. “We got it finally, and that’s what counts.”

  “Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” Fred got to his feet. “Walk with me, I gotta get something from my car. Is anything wrong?”

  “It’s my character.”

  “What about him?”

  “I feel as though he’s . . .” Dev hesitated, looking for the perfect English word. “One-dimensional? As a villain. All we know about him is that he’s cheating. He has no identity outside his relationship with Chase.”

  Fred nodded. “Yup.”

  Dev raised an eyebrow at that ready agreement.

  “You’re playing the hell out of him, though.”

  “I . . .” This was confusing. “You want him to be a one-dimensional character?”

  Fred stopped and looked up at him with sympathy. “Why are we all here, Dev?”

  “On this planet, you mean?”

  “Nah. On this set.” Fred jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Hudson is here to score the E for his eventual EGOT. I’m here to direct a big-budget TV tearjerker of a show that’ll give me enough money that I can pick and choose future projects.” He pointed at Dev. “You’re here to make a splashy debut in Hollywood. Do you know how we all do that?”

  “Create a fun television show that people find exciting and interesting?” Dev suggested.

  “No. We do it by reinventing the wheel. Handsome square-jawed white guy with marital and friendship problems is the wheel. The rest of us are the oil that keeps that wheel running. No offense.”

  “None . . . taken?”

  Fred patted Dev on the chest. “You deliver your lines as best you can, buddy. You probably won’t get an Emmy, but we’ll get enough attention that you’ll get some amazing future roles. Consider it paying your dues.” Fred checked his wristwatch. “Now I don’t know about you, but I could really use a big lunch. You’re welcome to join . . .”

  “No, I’m good.” Dev watched his director saunter away.

  You don’t seem happy.

  He narrowed his eyes. He was happy in the country, yes. He was happy being away from the brunt of his family’s fame. He’d even be happy paying his dues, given his latent guilt over how easy it had been to start his acting career, compared to other struggling actors.

  But no, he wasn’t happy with this particular show.

  There was nothing he could do, though. He couldn’t see them killing off their foreign villain for no reason. Not when he had some name recognition that could help them on the way to the Emmys.

  Emmys for them, but not him, as Fred had so cheerfully explained to him.

  So what if you’re unhappy? What’s the other option? There wasn’t one. When he’d spoken to his former costar yesterday, he’d been hit by a wave of homesickness, but for the show and the family he’d built there, not for the place.

  Into the box go these feelings as well. You are happy and grateful to be working. All you wanted was a fresh start. You got it. Don’t complain.

  Dev shifted. He was simply tired from the long night. He’d go home or to his trailer and take a nap, and then everything would be fine when he woke up.

  To busy himself, he checked his phone as he walked to his trailer. Jia hadn’t texted him yet today, so he sent her a good morning text.

  Hi. What are you up to?

  He paused, the dopamine hit from her immediate reply making him dizzy
. I just finished shooting. What about you?

  I need to get out of the city, so I decided to take a road trip. I heard there was this place that was good for photography. I’m at the studio packing up my stuff.

  His fatigue vanished. Disappearing for the day sounded like a dream. How long had it been since he’d gotten in a car and driven far away? Had he ever done that?

  Only, he couldn’t go on a road trip with Jia. That wouldn’t be proper.

  You’re so boring. Live a little. What century are you stuck in, anyway? Like unmarried people don’t hang out in private all the time.

  Rohan’s voice was too loud in his head. He supposed he was being overly conservative. He had indeed spent private time with his single female friends in the past. Jia was different.

  Because you are interested in her.

  He rubbed his ear. This revelation wasn’t that earth-shattering. Obviously, he was interested in her. He’d bought a serum on her recommendation last night, for crying out loud, and he didn’t even know what a serum was.

  However, even if he did want to come, how did one invite oneself to a road trip? What was the etiquette for that?

  Want to come with me?

  His smile was slow. Yes.

  It’s like two and a half hours away. But we’ll be back tonight.

  That wasn’t a problem. Luna wouldn’t even be home till tomorrow. Sounds good.

  Cool.

  He thought for a second, and imagined going on a road trip in her cramped little Beetle. Can we take my car?

  Chapter Fourteen

  JIA HADN’T planned on hitting the road today, but Ayesha’s words had so burrowed into her brain, she’d feared if she didn’t leave soon, she’d pace her room for hours and then grow even more anxious when she didn’t get anything done.

  It was a bonus that Dev had been able to come with her. She’d felt a little shy at first, getting into his car, but he’d quickly put her at ease, telling her about his costars and Luna’s first sleepover.

  Between the warmth of the car and the low hum of Dev’s radio, Jia dozed off at some point. She jerked awake when a phone rang.

  She stirred and looked over at Dev. He’d told her he’d come straight from set, but she would have guessed as much from the eye makeup that he hadn’t quite wiped off all the way. The dark liner on his waterline made his eyes pop even more than usual. “Is that you or me?”

  He glanced at her. He’d reclined the seat and drove one handed, the other elegant hand resting on his thigh. The midday sun made his skin glow. “You, I believe.”

  Jia hunched over and dug through her purse to find her phone. The text was short and to the point, from Harley. Hey girl! Sorry I haven’t been in touch yet, but I wanted to let you know that I gave your name to Ronny from MakeOut. She was asking if I’d like to head an inspired line. That’s not my thing, but I thought it might be yours! She seemed excited, she’s heard of you before. Anyway, giving you a heads-up in case she emails. Good luck!

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Jia ruthlessly throttled back the surge of excitement. This could mean nothing. Makeup companies had approached her before, and it had always been a bad deal, one where she didn’t get any creative control or they simply wanted to slap her name on a terrible product.

  None of the companies had been as big as MakeOut, though. This executive could still not even contact you. Jia typed back a heartfelt thank-you to Harley for passing on the opportunity, and put the phone away. This was excitement or disappointment for Future Jia to deal with, not her. “How far are we?”

  “We’re almost there.”

  She scrubbed her eyes. “I am so sorry, I didn’t realize I slept for so long.”

  “That’s okay. It was a pretty scenic drive.”

  She swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand as surreptitiously as she could. Had she drooled? It was one thing to fall asleep in his car, it was another thing to drool. “I meant to keep you company and switch off driving, though.”

  “Again, no worries.”

  But she’d missed the view, and she didn’t mean outside the car. Today was another casual day for Dev, in those drool-worthy jeans and an equally sexy gray long-sleeved ribbed Henley. He wasn’t overly muscular, but the clinging knit material emphasized his lean body.

  Jia tore her eyes away. She’d been thrilled he’d agreed to this trip—she had wanted to run away, but she hadn’t particularly wanted to be alone—but she’d been surprised, too, given his concerns over propriety. It felt way more intimate to sit in a car with someone for hours than to sit across a table for drinks. “I’ll drive on the way back.”

  His lips curled up. “We’ll see how late it is.”

  “It shouldn’t be too late.” Jia looked out the window, some of her earlier excitement coming back to her. The scenery was flat and desolate, like they were going into no-man’s-land. Which they essentially were. “I have to take a bunch of photos, record a video or three, and we can head back with the raw footage.”

  “Tell me about this place.”

  “Oh right. I forgot you hopped in your car with very little information.”

  He chuckled, and the low, rough sound scraped over her nerve endings. “I did. That level of impulsivity is unusual for me.”

  “Stick with me, kid.” Oops, did that sound too much like a command? “Bombay Beach is a ghost town. Or, like, there’s only two hundred people or so left living there. Artists come every spring and turn the remaining homes and signs and stuff into art installations. I think it would make a really cool feature. I figured you could wander the town while I work a bit on the beach, poke around.”

  “It’s my pleasure. I could use a break from everything as well. So you don’t need me to play cameraman?”

  “I have a tripod, but if you’re going to volunteer . . .”

  A big brown sign came up on the right, and Dev slowed and turned his signal on. Jia snapped a quick photo as they turned onto the road. They passed a hotel and general store; both parking lots were empty. “Let’s go to the water first,” Jia suggested and pointed straight down the road. The place was laid out like a grid, according to the articles she’d read, about a dozen streets and cross streets filled with decrepit and decaying trailers and homes interspaced with vibrant installations.

  Dev drove up the incline to the beach. “Glad we brought my car,” he murmured, and she couldn’t take offense at the slight to her eyelash-decorated vehicle. Her baby wouldn’t have been able to make the climb.

  He pulled right onto the beach. There was no sight of anybody for miles, and no other cars there. Jia was so eager, she scrambled out before he could open her door and inhaled the air. “Smell that?”

  Dev got out more slowly. “It smells like . . . a small body of water.”

  “Yes. I love it.” A thrill of excitement went through her. This wasn’t her usual content, but there were only so many ways she could talk about fashion and beauty. She rounded the trunk, which Dev remote opened for her. Jia rummaged in her camera bag. “Okay. I’m going to go get some test shots. Do you want to walk around the town?” There wasn’t a single car that she could see, or any sign of life. On second thought . . . “Actually, why don’t you stay close.” She was lucky that she’d always lived in friendly areas. She was wary of any place where she might stick out until she verified that it was safe.

  Dev gave her a haughty look. “I doubt anyone would touch me.”

  Ah, to be so confident. “Sir, that level of protection only works when you’re in a place where people recognize you or your name. I’m not sure how many of the two hundred people in this town are watching foreign soap operas.”

  He gave a slight dip of his head in acknowledgment. “May I stay here?”

  “With me?” That gave her a thrill. He wouldn’t be the first person to watch her work, but he’d be the first one she noticed while she was working. “Ummm, sure.”

  “I have a script I need to read, for next week’s sh
oot.” He reached into his bag in the trunk and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “This will keep me busy.”

  “I feel bad you came all this way to read.”

  “I like reading. I mostly wanted to get out of the city with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.” He met her eyes.

  She was struck with a sudden wave of shyness at his blunt honesty, and she wanted to lower her gaze, but she couldn’t. Instead, she cleared her throat and grabbed her tripod. “Well, in that case, enjoy your reading. I’ll be right down there, closer to the water.”

  Jia stopped a few steps away and turned around. Dev was watching her, she was gratified to note. “I’m glad you came with me, too.” And then before she could succumb to her nerves, she hustled away.

  IT WAS A good thing Dev had brought the script with him. Not because he was reading it, but it was good camouflage for observing Jia.

  He’d watched almost every YouTube video she had up by now—hundreds of them, thank God they were relatively short—but watching her shoot one was a whole new experience.

  She’d set up her camera and sat with her legs folded on a beach blanket. Behind her was an empty doorway someone had erected on the sand, framing the water. The wind caught the tail end of her long head scarf, and it flew behind her like a flag of yellow against the deep blue sky. Her blousy shirt was the same shade of sunshine, and her shoes matched. The colors flowed over his brain, soothing any ragged neurons and synapses.

  He stretched his legs long. It had been a long time since he’d sat idle somewhere, not counting work. It was calming here, with Jia not far away and the still water. There were installations in the water, too, a mailbox and a swing set.

  He contemplated the swing, and the way it reflected on the water. It made him sad, that swing. Perhaps because there was only room for one person, not two.

  They’d had a swing set when he was a child. His parents had set it up in their backyard. It was weird, their house had been small, but Dev’s world had felt bigger then. There had been no expectations about what careers they might enter, no press salivating over their missteps or triumphs, no one pitting brother against brother on metrics that didn’t matter. He’d pushed Rohan on that swing. If he listened carefully, he could hear his little brother squealing with joy.