“That’s a shame,” I tell her as I take her hand, “Aurora is a beautiful name. You should use it more.”
Her cheeks turn pink. Rather than the simple handshake she’s expecting, I lift her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles lightly before releasing her hand. And when I do, the pink in her cheeks shifts from a soft flush to a flame.
“Phillip Bauer,” I introduce myself.
She nods, “I know who you are, Lumi told me about you when you two were working together.”
“All good things, I hope?”
“Oh, no, absolutely awful,” Rory says matter-of-factly, startling me.
She pauses for a moment before laughing. “I’m messing with you, that girl doesn’t have a mean thing to say about anyone.”
Charles snickers and I laugh sheepishly. “She said you were a blast to work with,” Rory assures me, “And she had your last single as a ringtone for months after it came out.”
I’m actually deeply touched. That, I never would have guessed, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Lumi does kind of seem like that super-supportive friend type to everyone she interacts with.
“I’ll be right back,” Charles blurts and suddenly slips away in a rush, surprising us both as he vanishes.
“Well, Rory-“
“You can-“ she blushes and tucks her hair behind her ears, “You can call me Aurora. I-if you want, I mean.”
A slow grin spreads across my face. “Well, Aurora,” I correct, “May I get you another, perhaps less illegal, drink?”
Just because the girl makes me think all kinds of naughty thoughts, I’m not looking for that kind of trouble.
“Sure,” she follows me to the bar and I order Shirley Temples for us both.
She lifts an eyebrow in surprise. “You don’t have to stop having fun on my account or anything, I won’t be offended if you drink in front of me.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need booze to have a good time. Just some good company,” I give her a long, lingering look.
“Well, you’re in good hands, then,” she replies, tossing her long blonde mane and smiling flirtatiously.
Despite the cocky words, the flush in her cheeks betrays her and I know the words are having the desired effect, melting this sweet girl to putty in my hands. “Is that so?”
“Oh, yeah,” she assures me, nodding, “I’m a great time.”
“I believe that,” I chuckle.
The bartender slides our drinks across the bar and I pass Rory one of the glasses, holding up my own and offering it outwards to toast. “To good times.”
She taps her glass against mine and takes a sip. The expression that passes over her face is one of approval. “You know, I’ve never actually had one of these,” she admits, “It’s not bad.”
“You, a child actress, have never had the cocktail named after the most iconic child actress on the planet?” I ask, teasing.
She laughs. “Clearly I’ve been just horribly deprived.”
I shake my head, clucking my tongue at her in mock disapproval. “Shameful. You’ve got to pay tribute to the greats.”
Aurora, mid-drink, snorts and claps her hand over her mouth. “I never would have pegged you for a fan,” she muses.
“She’s a classic, everyone’s a fan of the classics, right?”
She tilts her head from side to side. “I guess to some extent, or they wouldn’t be classics.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” she says suddenly, “What about classic books? I mean, honestly, find me ten people who will tell you they genuinely enjoyed being forced to read Grapes of Wrath.”
“Valid point,” I acquiesce.
The smile that spreads across her face is smug, but even so, it sets a flame in my chest and I want to see more of it. “Come on,” she says suddenly, grabbing my hand and dragging me through the crowd.
I blink, surprised, but let her tug me. She’s surprisingly strong, considering how tiny she is, and I’m more than a little awed by her ability to move in those shoes.
My one and only experience wearing heels, after having lost a drunken bet with a buddy, I’d wobbled like a newborn giraffe. It had given me a whole new respect for women in shoes like that.
She drags me out of the ballroom out to the hallway, and I’m a little struck by the quiet when the doors fall closed. After the chaos and noise in the ballroom, the muted hall is almost eerily quiet.
“Easier to hide from my manager out here,” she explains.
“And all the better to hear you,” I add.
She snickers. “You sound like the Big Bad Wolf.”
“You scared, Goldilocks?” I ask her, my voice low as I reach out and twirl a lock of long golden hair around my finger.
Her breath catches. “W-wrong fairytale,” she says with a breathless little giggle, “You mean Little Red Riding Hood.”
“I know, the other just seemed more fitting.”
There’s a long moment of tension before I slowly uncoil her hair from around the digit and let her go. The spell broken, the two of us end up talking more, from our conversation about classics to our own favorites, and eventually to our own work.
Rory tells me about her current project and how annoyed she is that it’s gotten pushed back because of a last-minute recast. The guy playing her love interest had pulled out of the film last-minute, and it had set their schedule back weeks.
I tell her about the new album I’ve been recording and she listens with rapt interest.
“And this will be your third one, right?” she asks.
I nod. “Well, unless you count the EP in between.”
“Who does the songwriting? The lyrics and all? Is it all you, or are you working with anyone else?” she asks.
“It’s pretty much all me, but I’ve done some collaborative stuff with a few people.”
“How do you do it?” she asks, “I just-I want to, but I feel like that stuff just doesn’t come to me. Catchy choruses and rhyming…”
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” I tell her, shaking my head, “There are plenty of songs that don’t rhyme, and don’t worry about catchy, just write what you feel.”
Her brow furrows and she lifts her hand slightly before abruptly dropping it. She gnaws her lower lip a little. “Does that scare you?” she asks me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you put emotions onto a page and then record it for thousands. Isn’t it weird, letting people into your head like that?”
I blink, surprised. “To be honest, I never really thought about it as letting other people into my head,” I admit, “To me it’s always kind of felt like the opposite, like I’m purging anything overwhelming and just letting that shit out into the universe to let it go.”
She looks thoughtful for a moment. “But are you really letting it go?” she asks, “I mean, you’re making it into something permanent, and then when you sing your songs live at shows, isn’t that just like bringing all of that back to the surface and reliving it?”
It’s a good point, one that makes me think. I think about some of the sounds I’ve poured my fucking heart into, the ones that are basically my blood, sweat, and tears made into sound, and I think about what it’s like to play those on stage.
“No, I don’t think it’s like that,” I tell her, “It’s more cathartic than that. And there comes a point where it stops being associated with the memories and sort of evolves into something more, if that makes sense.”
“You mean like an individual song sort of takes on a life of its own, separate from whatever made you write it?” she asks.
“Exactly!” I exclaim.
It’s interesting, in all the years I’ve been acting and singing, I’ve never gotten questions like these. People want to know where the songs come from, sure, but not like this. They want the stories, the dirt, the gossip, whereas Rory’s trying to understand the process.
I seem to remember she’s done a handful of musical projects.
I guess maybe she’s interested in trying an album now? It’s not an unusual transition, as Lumi has clearly illustrated, and I’m kind of surprised she hasn’t jumped on the bandwagon before now.
The two of us keep talking, losing track of time standing together in the hallways, and the more time I spend with her, the more I want to. I want her to keep talking, to keep asking me questions.
“Rory!”
A male voice interrupts and I turn to see a man in a sleek gray suit approaching, an irritated look on his face. Rory swears under her breath. He makes his way over. “Griffin, I-“
“I’ve been hunting for you everywhere,” the man interrupts, “No one’s seen you in over an hour.”
Rory’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, what time is it?” she asks.
“It’s after eleven already.”
Rory gasps. “I’m an ass. I’m such an ass. Oh, man, I’m the shittiest friend ever, I’m so sorry, Phillip, it was great talking to you, but I need to go find Lumi.”
I wave off her worries. “Do what you gotta do. It was a pleasure to meet you, Rory, and I hope I get the chance to see you again soon.”
Her cheeks flush that delightful shade of pink again and the dark-haired man eyes me warily.
I can’t help myself, I give him a full up-and-down look and I can’t help but appreciate what I see. There’s a heavily muscled frame under that carefully tailored suit, and his grey-blue eyes glow bright out of a face that looks like it was carved from marble.
When my gaze meets his, however, those eyes narrow. This guy might be hot as fuck, but he is clearly not a fan.
So of course, some spiteful, shitty part of me wants to push this guy’s buttons a little. I reach for Rory’s hand and bring it to my lips once more, and I can feel the flutter of her pulse spike in her fingertips. “Until next time, then, Aurora,” I tell her, flashing her my very best panty-dropping smile.
The guy, Griffin, rolls his eyes, and I can see a muscle in his jaw twitch as he wraps his arms around the blonde’s shoulder. “Come on, Rory,” he mutters.
With that, he leads her down the hall back to the ballroom, and I can hear the beginnings of an argument being hissed between them.
I wonder briefly if the guy’s her boyfriend, but her response to his appearance makes that seem pretty unlikely. At least, unless they’re pretty rocky.
I have to admit, I wouldn’t exactly mind a shot with either one of them. I’ve dated my share of both guys and girls. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t fucking matter what you’re packing between you’re thighs. Hot is hot.
I’ve never officially “come out” in any sort of way, though, mostly just because I don’t care enough about labeling my identity to figure out what letter in the LGBTQ+ alphabet soup fits me.
But something tells me a shot with Rory is a lot more likely than her tight-assed buddy in the gray suit, and something she told me stands out in my mind. I pull my cell phone from my pocket and dial my agent’s number.
“Hey, Bert, how’s it going, man? Listen, I know it’s late, but I heard about this project and I wanna see if you can get me in for an audition…”
Chapter Four
Griffin
I could probably count on my fingers the number of words Rory’s spoken to me since the night of Lumi’s birthday party. After dragging her away from that Bauer guy, the two of us had argued the rest of the night.
Then the next day, she had disappeared into town with Lumi for the entire day. And when I finally saw her again, we’d been gearing up to fly home, and she spent the flight dozing with noise-canceling headphones.
I know she’s still pissed at me, and part of me feels guilty again, but then I think about the sight of her all cozied up in that empty hallway with Pretty Boy and I just lose my shit.
It’s not like Rory’s never dated before; she’s been linked to plenty of guys in her circle. But Phillip’s not exactly in her circle, and there’s something about the guy that immediately set me on edge. And he made no qualms about sizing me up, either.
That up-and-down look struck me as a challenge. What I wasn’t expecting was to be so struck by his looks, though.
It’s not like I can’t acknowledge another man’s attractiveness, and Phillip was undeniably hot. He’s got an action-star body paired with the kind of handsome, slightly boyish face that makes women and men alike swoon over him.
But regardless of his looks, he strikes me as the kind of guy who’s used to getting exactly what he wants, when he wants it, and I don’t like the idea of Rory being just another notch in his belt. So on the elevator ride up to the floor where our hotel rooms were that night, I’d told her she should stay away from him.
“Have you actually met him?” she’d asked.
“I don’t have to, Rory, I know his type, and I’ve seen his reputation.”
“Where? The same blogs and tabloids that you call “worthless gossip rags” when it’s my face on the cover?” she’d shot back.
She had a point, and she knew she had me cornered, continuing: “If you want to lecture me on drinking, that’s one thing, but don’t be a fucking hypocrite just because you’re pissed that I got away from you for a night. You don’t know him-“
“Neither do you-“
“AND, beyond that, you have no right to police my personal life. Since when do you care who I spend my time with, anyway?”
“It’s not about that, Rory, it’s about keeping you out of trouble,” I’d argued, “All I’m trying to do is protect you.”
“No, you’re trying to protect the precious “reputation” that keeps your checks coming in, because if I fuck up too badly and piss off the wrong people, I get blackballed and you lose your cash cow,” she’d snapped.
The words were like a slap to the face. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?” I had asked.
The elevator had dinged and the doors opened. Rory stormed out and I chased after her, hot on her heels, and grabbed her by the elbow. “Rory, tell me you don’t honestly think that. You know I care about you.”
Rory yanked her arm from my grip. “Every other word out of your mouth is to tell me everything I’m doing wrong, Griffin, what am I supposed to think? You treat me like I’m some out-of-control teenager you’re trying to corral instead of a fucking adult whose career you’re managing.”
“Why the fuck do I have to corral you, Rory?” I exploded back, “If you’re so grown-up, why do you still melt down like a spoiled brat when I try to help you?”
She rummaged around in her purse, ignoring my words, until she fished out her room key. She shoved it in the door and wrenched the knob open. I grabbed her arm again and this time she whirled on me, eyes blazing. “If I’m such a spoiled brat, why don’t you fucking drop me, then? If I’m such a nightmare and I drive you so crazy, why am I still your client? You’ve got others, right?”
“I didn’t say you were a nightmare-“
“You didn’t even have to come to this! You could have just let me have one weekend to celebrate my friend’s birthday, to feel like a normal fucking girl, but you had to tag along to babysit.”
“If you were so worried about celebrating Lumi, maybe you should have actually spent some of the party with her, instead of running off to throw yourself at Phillip Bauer,” I snapped, immediately regretting the words as soon as I spoke them.
I knew it wasn’t Rory’s fault, as party hostess, Lumi had to mingle with all of the guests, and I know Rory was disappointed by the lack of time she’d actually gotten to spend with the other girl. On top of that, Lumi herself had disappeared at some point in the party. But some bitter part of me just couldn’t resist another dig in the direction of the pretty boy asshole.
Sadness flashed across Rory’s face and her expression lost its hard edge. “Rory, I-“
“Goodnight, Griffin. If you’ll excuse me, frankly I’m exhausted from trying to live up to your expectations of me,” she pulled her arm from my grip again and pushed past the door, closing it
in my face.
I scrub my hand over my face and let out a sigh. I felt like shit for the things I’d said. Yeah, Rory could be kind of bratty and immature sometimes, but I know I was worse. And to be fair, she’s still young. She never really got the kind of childhood I did. Things were pretty normal for me, at least until I was about fourteen when my older brother had died.
Rory, on the other hand, has had a career since before she was old enough to tell people she wanted it. When I spent my youth chasing bugs and getting into trouble, she spent hers on set.
So how can I really blame her for acting like a kid sometimes? She never got the chance.
My phone chirps with an alarm and I realize I need to get going. I’m supposed to meet Rory after she’s done with the re-cast on her new movie and we’re supposed to be heading to dinner with the execs from a makeup line that wants Rory as the face of their new collection.
But with the way things are right now, I don’t want to just show up. I feel like I need a peace offering of some sort, and maybe then on the way to dinner, I’ll get the chance to clear the air with her.
So on my way to the studio, I stop off at the gas station and grab a tube of mini M&Ms (“Because the chocolate to candy coating ratio is so much better!” Rory insists) and a can of this repulsive marshmallow-flavored energy drink she adores.
Getting her hooked on energy drinks is about the most “bad influence” Lumi has been on her, and those two girls can consume enough caffeine to fuel a small country. Although I suppose enabling her isn’t any better, but it’s fucking killing me to have this wedge between us.
I’d never admit it to her face, but I miss her smile so much it hurts.
I pay for the sugar-laden olive branch and hop back in the car, feeling optimistic. Rory and I might argue often, but she seldom stays mad for long, especially when I cave first like this.
The studio security guy is one who recognizes me, so I get onto the lot with ease. I head for the building they’re in and make my way down the hall. I’m not totally sure which room they’re gonna be in, but I know it’s going to be down this way, and I’m a little early, so I figure I’ll just head down until I find her.
Dangerous Dreams Page 2