Silver Screens and Broken Dreams (Echoes of Us #2)

9. “It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.” — Vladimir Nabokov

Dylan

O ne Hour Earlier

“Kevin?” I slammed my coffee down on the small chrome metal bistro table outside the boutique little coffee shop over the road from the studios. I thrust the morning newspaper into Hailey’s hands forcefully. “Fucking Kevin?”

“I mean, let’s not jump to conclusions, babe.” Hailey attempted to smile but ended up grimacing as she took in the clear evidence printed in the morning paper in her hands. “Okay, well, I guess they aren’t exactly conclusions when it’s right there to see.”

We’d been broken up for so long that I was mentally kicking myself for letting this affect me the way it was currently. It was as if my blood had both turned to ice, whilst fire bloomed under my skin, making me want to lash out and tear Kevin’s gorgeous fucking face limb from limb. I yanked the newspaper back from Hailey’s loose grip and stared at the picture once more. There he was, the man who said he would love me forever, with his arms wrapped tightly around Kevin’s back, his tongue forcing its way into that stupid, fucking pretty mouth. His eyes closed and a clear joy was on his face. Well, fuck him.

“I feel so stupid,” I lowered my head into my hands and stared aimlessly at the table, “I knew.”

“What do you mean, sweetie?” I felt her hands rest gently on my bicep.

“I knew there was something there between them.” A sad smile played on my lips. “That day I saw them at the party. I allowed myself to believe what Austin was saying to me. It can’t have been true, though. Look at them.”

“Oh, Dylan…”

“No, it was my stupid fault for believing him.” I laughed, the sound not even convincing to my own ears. “He left me for a reason. It just turns out there must have been more than one.”

“We don’t know the whole story.” I could see the desperation on her face, trying to find some sort of salve to ease the burn that was currently scorching itself into my brain the more I looked at that damn photo.

“I don’t even want to know.” I shook my head and shrugged.

“Dylan…”

“No Hailey, I’m so tired.” My shoulders felt so heavy, the burden of my heart and all the emotion currently pounding in my brain becoming overwhelming. “I’m so tired of missing him. I‘m so tired of judging guys I meet with an unrealistic expectation of a love that turns out never even existed in the first place. I’m so sick and tired of making excuses for him, even to myself, to justify that he screwed me over for the greater good.”

On a roll, I didn’t even stop as she tried to interject, “Hailey, I would have given up the world for that man. I would have sacrificed everything and followed him wherever he wanted to go. The problem is that he didn’t want me. He wanted the life he has, more than the life we could have made together. So yeah, I am so fucking happy for him. He achieved all the success that he dreamed of.”

“You don’t need to be noble with me, hun,” she smiled.

“Do you know something? A part of me always thought that he would come back for me one day when he was ready. I thought he would sow his wild oats or whatever and realize that we had something special because I am so certain that we did. Or I was certain, at least.”

Hailey looked uncomfortable, shifting in her seat.

“What?” I prodded at her leg with my shoe.

“Babe, you know I love you with all my heart, but I also think of him as a friend, too. I have been keeping in touch with him, as you know, but every time I do, he just tells me how much he misses you and how much he still loves you. He knows he fucked up, and he just wants another chance with you.” She looked down at her clasped fingers, trying to avoid my stare.

“It certainly looks it,” I scoffed, once again setting the newspaper between us.

“I don’t know what he was thinking.” She shook her head, plucking up the picture and examining it in great detail. “It makes little sense.”

“Well, when you speak to him next, just let him know I wish him well, but after this, I am sure that I don’t want any further contact with him.” I knew in my heart that this was mostly true. Whilst I was certain I wouldn’t be able to trust myself currently in the same room as him, I knew I wanted to be over him.

I needed to be. My mind plucked an image of Spencer out of thin air.

“Listen, I'm going to use the ladies’ room and then I’m going to get us a couple of mimosas as it feels like that kinda morning,” she smiled, gesturing at the image of my ex kissing my former rival.

I took in a deep breath, hoping the intake of air would somehow cleanse my now-tarnished morning. Being stabbed in the heart would do that to a guy. It was always such a chore to get back to normal when your world had shifted off its axis. When something you always thought to be honest and true turned out to be bullshit. It was almost as if you couldn’t believe the world could still turn when your life as you knew it would never be the same. As I watched people pass by the coffee shop, either on their way to work, shopping or simply just taking in the New York morning, I wondered if he had been cheating on me with Kevin all that time. He'd always been so insistent that he couldn’t just keep Kevin out of his life because of his relationship with Kyle. If he had truly loved me and valued our relationship, then surely he would have done anything to keep our relationship safe and strong. I bit back a bitter laugh because I already knew the truth. I wasn’t important to him. He'd left me for a job.

I watched a young, slim, handsome guy, who couldn’t be older than twenty-one, grasp the hand of a much beefier dude with tattoos who looked about thirty, across the table from him. The younger guy picked up a phone from the table and flipped it around to take a selfie of them both. It was not him that drew my eye the most, though, it was the look of pure adoration and love from the older man. His eyes never strayed from his partner’s face as the other man slipped his arm around the wide-set shoulders and grinned cheesily at the camera. He turned the phone around to look at the picture and smiled.

“You didn’t look at the camera!” the younger guy squealed happily.

“I was looking at the sexiest man I’ve ever seen,” the older man crooned, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“That’s sweet baby, but I was also in the picture, so let’s try that again,” he laughed.

“Wait! Send me that one,” the man sighed.

“Don’t worry babe, the way you’re looking at me in that picture, that one is going into my private collection.”

I stopped watching them as it began to feel rude and intrusive. Also, I was getting way too jealous watching the man’s thick thighs pressing up against his boyfriend’s slender leg, and the way the muscles of his forearms bunched under the skin as he dragged his man close to his side.

Once again, unbidden, thoughts of Spencer assaulted my memory left and right. Spencer had made no qualms about showing his interest in me during the entire run of filming, right from that very first day. It had been small things at first, like when I had asked him to come to watch the scene he had just filmed on the monitors. He had sidled up next to me, leaning across my shoulder, his hand resting on my lower back. He’d breathed across my lips as he nodded along to the notes and suggestions, whispering in my ear about how much he appreciated my input. I’d had to cross my legs to smother down the roaring boner solely his proximity had given me.

Another time he'd brought along Chinese food to my trailer in the lot of the studios. He had said he wanted to discuss the upcoming episode as it dealt with some difficult issues of drug addiction and mental health. We'd spent a good thirty minutes discussing the scenes he was concerned about. The talk had then shifted to his childhood. He had grown up in foster care, his mother had been addicted to drugs and was in and out of jail because of a string of petty offences. He said he didn’t remember her much as they'd taken him into care when he was five years old. He had bounced around group homes and various foster placements until he'd aged out of the system. After being scouted by a talent agent one day whilst walking dogs along Santa Monica beach, his life had changed overnight. He'd told me about the work he did with local children’s charities and how inner-city children in affluent cities tended to be forgotten because of the public’s belief that the city would take care of its own.

“I like how you have written the kids in this scene.” Spencer ran his thumb across the page, like it was special to him somehow. “These kids are just like the ones I grew up with. They aren’t opportunistic, violent, or grifters, but just kids who have strong attachments with each other. Their own little community.” The episode focused on one of the older teens on trial for the murder of a foster mother. The scene dealt with the cops viewing the teen as a monster, ungrateful and spiteful. Taking out his frustrations with life and the system on the one person who had bothered to look out for him. We'd depicted the teen character as being harsh with the other foster children, telling them to keep their mouths shut or else. Nico Amore had dug a little deeper, to find that the foster mother was part of a child abuse ring and was selling access to the people in her care. One night, as she was trying to drag one girl from her bed, the girl fought back and bashed her over the head with a lamp.

“The ending is poignant as fuck,” Spencer sighed. “The older guy refuses to let her take the blame and confesses.”

“Well, he says in an earlier scene that he thinks she is the smartest one out of all of them, and he thinks she will do great things and help the others to do great things as well.” I watched as Spencer’s smile turned melancholy. His shoulders tightened as he stared down at the words on the page.

“I don’t want to mess with your process, but does the kid have to be arrested at the end of the episode?” he sighed finally. “Every time I read it, it just makes me so sad.”

My heart melted a little as I watched this strong man’s soul bleed for fictional people whom I'd invented. I could make light of the situation and point out that these people didn’t exist, but I could see that this was personal for him and he was trusting me enough to be vulnerable in front of me.

“I understand what you mean.” I reached across and squeezed his firm forearm. “The problem we have is that the girl pulls away from being dragged down the stairs. She runs back to the room and grabs the lamp. She then lashes out and hits the woman on the back of the head as she is running down the stairs. In real life, this is not a clear-cut case of self-defence.”

“I know,” he shrugged. “It still sucks, but I guess this is what is going to make this show a success. You get us to feel about these people. They aren’t just two-dimensional cameos in an episode.”

“Well, I mean I guess…”

“No, Dylan.” Spencer turned his arm over from where my hand was still resting on his, sliding it down until his hand linked with my own. “You’re really talented and I’m so honored to be a part of what you’ve created.”

The air shifted around us. I felt the energy intensify and crackle as warmth bloomed around my neck, creeping up to my face. My gaze moved from where our hands were connected, up his arms, and chest to his face as he stared into my eyes. My gaze darted down to his mouth, those luscious lips that just begged to be savaged by my own.

“I know you want to keep things professional between us, Dylan,” Spencer breathed. “I’m trying so hard right now to respect your boundaries, but I’m telling you it’s one of the hardest things I’ve had to do.” His hand tightened around my own.

“I’m struggling to remember why I thought professionalism was such a good idea in the first place,” I admitted, struggling to catch my breath. Everything about him overwhelmed me. The spicy citrusy smell of his cologne clung to me even after he has gone. His piercing dark stare, those wide shoulders and tree trunk legs — everything about him made me want to wrap myself around him and tear the clothes from his body.

We had completed a scene two weeks earlier where Nico had walked out of the shower naked, only to catch his co-star and TV police partner in his kitchen helping himself to leftovers. They had shot the scene on Spencer’s naked back. I’d had to watch from the video village as a very naked Spencer had paraded through the set with only a modesty sock separating him from the rest of the cast and crew. I’d had to excuse myself from the set and take care of business in the bathroom, so I was able to stay professional and focus on the rest of the scene.

“Just tell me it’s okay,” he sighed, “tell me you want me as much as I want you.” I felt him tug me towards him. His thighs parted as he manhandled me between his impressive legs. “Tell me, please.”

“I want to,” I breathed, “I really want to. I’m just not sure.”

“I just want to kiss you." His hand sneaked around my waist, squeezing my hip. “I need to know if it’s everything I’ve been dreaming it to be.”

It was all too much. Like an elastic band reaching a breaking point before it either snapped or sprung back on itself, I could feel my resolve do both. “Oh, fuck professionalism,” I gasped, grabbing him by the back of the neck and pulling him sharply towards me.

“I think I left my purse in here!” Natalie shouted as the trailer door burst open. I pushed my chair back swiftly, away from our embrace. My wheels on the chair slid too quickly, making me tumble backwards out of my chair. My face pressed into the laminate flooring, I stared up to see a bemused Spencer and Natalie peering at me from above.

“You look a million miles away.” Hailey’s return startled me as she settled back in her seat, sliding a tall champagne glass filled to the brim with orange goodness towards me.

“Just lost in my thoughts,” I shrugged.

“Well, they must have been some nice thoughts,” she smiled, chewing her bottom lip. Laughing at my blank stare, she leaned across the table. “You had the same look on your face as you had that time when we saw Jason Momoa coming out of that changing room at Macy’s.”

“Just thinking,” I laughed.

Sheepishly, she slid her phone across the table towards me. “Okay, don’t hate me, but I did a thing.”

“What the hell did you do?” I snatched up the phone and sighed as I saw Austin’s name at the top of an open message thread. “Hailey!” I groaned loudly.

“Just read it before you kill me.” She sipped her mimosa, eyeing me carefully over the stem of her glass.

I stared down at the phone and read.

Me: I mean, it surprised me, to say the least, that you have a boyfriend. But Kevin? Come on, man.

Me: Anyway , I just wanted you to know that ‘he’ has seen the paper and he told me to tell you that he wishes you guys well. He definitely doesn’t want any contact with you, so please just honor that, yeah?

Me: I love you Austin, but you sure know how to make a bad situation worse. Whilst Dylan might not be happy, he is on the road to being happy.

Me: Contact me anytime you want. We will always be friends, but please leave him alone now.

“Hailey!” I gasped, looking up from the phone.

She waved me off and pointed back at the screen. “Read on!”

Austin: Please, you have to believe me. It was a huge misunderstanding.

Me: It was very clear Austin.

Austin: I know it looks bad.

Me: It looks how it looks. You’re single. You can hook up with whomever you want.

Austin: I only want Dylan. You know that.

I cursed myself, as for a fleeting moment, I believed him. For a split second, I wanted to press the dial button, forgive him for everything, and run back into his arms. My brain was my friend; my brain remembered everything he promised me. It remembered every time he was in my arms and told me it was just me and him, against the world. Forever. It also remembered him walking away and tearing my heart out as he left. Well , fuck him. I continued reading.

Austin: I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but Kyle has been under a lot of pressure from his management company about his public image and is trying to land a couple of big names. We went out and got very drunk. I was sadly, lonely and upset and somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have wanted some comfort from a friend. So I kissed him.

Me: Kevin?

Austin: No, Kyle. the guy in the picture is Kyle. He told the photographer he was Kevin, so that his management company wouldn’t get on his case.

Me: This is all messed up.

Austin: You’re telling me, babe.

Me: I’m out with Dylan at the moment. I'll speak to you later yeah?

“So what if it was Kyle?” I shrugged, sliding the phone back across the table towards her. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“It doesn’t?” I caught the sad look flitting across her face before she schooled it into a small smile.

“Hailey, I’ve wasted so much of my time worrying about him, taking care of him and then crying over him, waiting for him and eventually getting over him.” I took a sip of my drink. “I can’t go through that all again. No matter what Austin believes, we were never destined to be together. If we were, he wouldn’t have left me for a paycheck.”