Chapter 1-2
CHAPTER 1
The bright winter sun was dazzling. The intensity of the cold afternoon and the everyday bustling noise of this mediocre little town immediately became a welcome relief of normality to my senses, after being submerged in a dark room, watching both intense tragedy and human resilience unfold before me over the past two and a half hours. Napkins from the popcorn was all I had on to deal with the tears and wipe away the mascara that I just knew was streaking my cheeks and inevitably made me look like a broken panda, and then I tried to tuck the mascara-streaked napkin I had in my hand away without anybody else noticing.
I
wasn’t usually any kind of sap at
generic, formulaic Hollywood disaster films, but this one had rather managed to
hit a little closer to the heart than I had ever expected it to. Oh, not the
devastating plane crash or the outlandish pyrotechnics – I’ve
thankfully never had the pleasure. But the turmoil
of the film, the characters involved, the tragedy of the victims and the survivors
– all people you came to know well throughout
– had surprisingly overwhelmed me, this
time.
I was rarely moved by films, and I had to grudgingly put my reaction singlehandedly to the impressive, immense talent of the actors involved – particularly the three key leads powering the story, because it certainly hadn’t been the storyline or script, which had been barely more than a generic Hollywood stereotype of a disaster movie. Iconic movie megastars identical twins Sebastian and Caspian De Carr, along with their co-star – the sublimely beautiful Hollywood favourite Kate Whittaker – had somehow transformed a mediocre script and shallow characters into genuinely believable people in a heart-wrenching disaster movie that seemed, at first, to start out as an adorable romantic comedy. It shouldn’t have worked – but their characters’ relationships with each other made the decent into catastrophic disaster all the more shockingly horrific and poignant, and finally, the key to their very survival
The characters and story arc spun around in my head in a way that usually only books could do. Movies rarely impressed or moved me enough to analyse, break down, dissect, and understand all its components, and somehow, this one had done just that. Authors of books or creators of any written word usually didn’t have the luxury of having a third party bring their words to life for them – unless you maybe counted their editor.
The writer of this script seemed to have hoped for the best in writing what should have been drivel, but in the end was transformed into genuinely believable, even hard-hitting, words by three of the best craftspeople in film acting. Responses, unwritten physical actions and reactions, facial expressions, tone of delivery, silent reactions, all added to what the words had to offer – all so shockingly perfect and real, you couldn’t even question what they were saying.
On
paper, though, I knew it could not have possibly looked half as
impressive, and mostly empty, regurgitated drivel, and that the
predominant of writers would have to come up with things far more interesting
and deep for such a story to have worked in any novel they were writing.
Being
a lifelong obsessive bookworm and a newly-hopeful, aspiring writer myself, who
was smugly about to finish my second degree, so I this time in English
Literature, I always found books were a far more fascinating window into other
people’s worlds and imaginations than the film
industry ever did. After all, books were worlds of endless interpretation and
boundless escapism, from the insightful and sharp prose of Shakespeare to vast
extremeness of Hardy’s world of the Wessex countryside, and the
sweet tongue-in-cheek existence of Austen’s characters.
I actually loved it so much, it was the sole reason I had jacked-in a very financially stable career as a specialist contractor in IT data analysis and database architecture in London to study the subject seriously, and also the reason I found myself walking out into the rather depressing half-hearted, meandering streets of Willowfall-by-Bough, instead of the hustle-and-bustle of Leicester Square, which I missed dearly, still, even after three years away from living there.
Escaping
this mundane little town had once been my biggest achievement. Swapping its
mediocre existence, the frmfor the world of IT in London, I had become a
successful Database Analyst for many years for very good money. I’d had
the dinkiest little studio apartment I almost
liked and was very proud of – read: a small room with a
window, two kitchen cabinets with a sink and hotplate-oven combi thing, and a
tiny bathroom – in
Camden Town, and I’d had a good life. That was until the lure
of the written word became too great, and I realised I wanted to
desperately do the one thing that I was truly passionate about before I turned
thirty.
It
was one of the hardest decisions of my life, but in the end, I made it and
diligently managed to save up enough to pay for my English degree without
needing student loans – it was enough for a down-payment on your
average small house, or a small studio apartment in London, but I wanted to get
on with life afterwards, not have the burden of unnecessary debt around my neck
if I didn’t need to. So, instead of finding a
better place to live as I made more money, I paid my relative pittance for my
studio and saved everything up instead.
After a few years, I had more than enough, and I gave up everything to go and get my degree – which then brought me back here, to Willowfall, to study full-time, and temporarily giving up my other passion of working with computer systems for a semi-lucrative income on a steep upwards trajectory... and possibly my sanity.
The Bottom line? I loved books more than I loved computers, so I made that sacrifice for them. I loved the fact that in books every character lived in my imagination alone – each image and voice was unique to my own mind, and only I could see and hear them in this way, with no one else sharing these im ages or perspectives. In a film – this one and any other – it was simply a story told that you watched with a hundred other strangers who saw, heard and experienced exactly the same thing for the last two hours, and hardly the same. Sourprisingly, this one had pulled on heartstrings that were usually reserved for a really great novel – despite the fact it had been about a noisy plane crash with a death-defying ditch into an ocean in the dark night where, of course, all the ridiculously overpaid, albeit incredibly gifted, stars of the production had walked away from it, and the romantic pair – in this case, Sebastian De Carr and Kate Whittaker’s characters – bouncing off into the sunset with everlasting love.
In all honesty, the only reason I even went to see these films was from a misplaced sense of duty and loyalty to an old friend. Other than that, I really wasn’t generally interested in the whole Hollywood industry and what it egocentrically thought it had to offer. I didn’t even bother watching anything else each time I went to see one of these silly generic, predictable films and spent a small town fortune on tickets for a very uncomfortable seat. If only Willowfall-by-Bough had a decent theatre – I would much rather go and see a fabulous play anytime. Master Shakespeare and his cast of characters had a lot more to offer than some director of studio with a large production investment out in California.
Unfortunately,
my cinema companion and much-younger university friend, Melissa, had very
different ideas regarding the movie industry. As we walked back through the
town, she was bouncing along beside me, chirping away as to how much she had
enjoyed the film. She couldn’t stop talking about how fantastic she had
thought the headline stars, Sebastian and Caspian De Carr, had been –
rather to my irritation. The least said about those two incredible and flawless
Hollywood entities, the better. It’s best not to ask why.3
.
“They are so brilliant!” Melissa gushed with unrelenting enthusiasm
that only someone barely out of their teens could surely still muster, whilst I
unsuccessfully tried zoning her out. “You just forget they’re
not even real people – the characters, I mean. Sebastian De Carr
and Kate Whittaker are just such amazing
actors!”
“Especially since you really like Sebastian,” I teased with a wry smile, ignoring immediate
touchiness I felt at the mere mention of that man’s
name.
“So?” Melissa retorted, grinning inanely. “It
would be abnormal if I didn’t – the
man is insanely gorgeous!”
I
immediately sidestepped the observation. “Well,
Sebastian has always been a
good actor. Fooled everyone every time.”
“Oh my
God, that’s right – you knew them! It’s
really quite exciting, you knowing a real-life movie star,”
Melissa beamed. “You’re so lucky.”
What
the hell, Lisa?
I’d
been so busy sidestepping how gorgeous she though the man was, I veered
directly into the path of the biggest thing I needed to never, ever
mention.
My
lips pursed together grimly and I inwardly groaned. Lucky was the last thing I felt. Actually, it wasn’t
even on the list of things I felt. I
kicked myself for abhorrently stupid throwaway comment, bringing
attention to a fact pretty much no one in my current sphere of friends
or acquaintances knew about me, whatsoever. It was one of the things in my life
I really wanted to truly forget.
Amnesia should be a pill you could just take sometimes, not something randomly
bestowed on people who usually didn’t want it.
“Hardly lucky,” I
grumbled. “Is it really
that exciting?”
“It’s very
exciting that you went to school with Sebastian and Caspian De Carr! It’s like
such a huge claim-to-fame!”
I bit
my lip and smiled tightly at her, definitely regretting ever mentioning
knowing the De Carr twins whilst I had been in high school to Melissa. I was
also desperately hoping that it wouldn’t go any further – I absolutely
didn’t want
anyone else to know.
Without
warning, Melissa suddenly stopped at a shop, her attention clearly grabbed by a
magazine with a picture of the twins from the film on the cover. The caption
below made me inwardly wince when I saw it simply read, “No Crash Landing For De Carr Twins”, and
right then I immediately made a mental note to remind myself to never, ever
apply for Unfortunately,
the lack of writing talent hadn’t deterred Melissa from reading it, or buying
it. She excitedly picked up the magazine, and paid the young man behind the
counter, before shoving her nose in it and reading the article. I shook my head
in quiet despair at the woman’s delight and obsession with the home-grown
Hollywood idols. Of course, the hypocrisy was that I wished I could say I
couldn’t see the attraction – but
I couldn’t do that, because if I did, that
would make it probably be the biggest lie ever
told in all of history, ever.
The
problem was that ever since I had first seen Sebastian De Carr on my very first
day at Willowfall High School, I had been rather overwhelmingly smitten with
the boy in my class with the charming smile and sparkling blue eyes. He almost
immediately become the most popular boy by the end of our very first day – his
adorable good looks were already clearly obvious, and his genuine, fun-loving
charm and charisma left every girl who had any sense with a swooning crush on
him. Even as the years went by, Sebastian didn’t
lose that position, and he always had an endless trail of giggling and swooning
girls who always sent enough Valentine’s Day cards each year to rebuild a
Brazilian rainforest. He got away with murder when it came to the teachers, and
they also had to get used to dealing with scraping the jaws of teenage girls off
the floor because he had given them attention, a smile, or said something supposedly
swooning.
Yet,
despite the fact that Sebastian had no end of yearning admirers, he had –
strangely enough – attached himself to the mousy,
bespectacled, wild-haired, sensible book-geek of the class. Much to the
jealousy of all the other girls, he had taken a shine to me, and somehow
we had become best friends and completely inseparable by the end of our first
year at school. I admit, at first I completely wrote him off as the air-headed
pretty-boy who simply wanted a bland brainiac to copy homework from. But
somehow he almost immediately became my absolute and firm best friend, which
floored me – and everybody else – completely.
Unfortunately,
as time went on and we got older, that little smitten crush I had evolved, and
I ended up falling in love with him. I never mentioned to anyone, and always
hoped I had managed to keep it a secret from him, as the last thing I wanted
was to spoil our friendship by him finding out and having to let me down
gently, before never talking to me ever again. But that happened anyway when Sebastian
decided to leave for California in the name of his acting career when I was fifteen
and he had just turned sixteen, right in the middle of our GCSE years. Both he.
and his twin brother, had left for America and I never heard from him again,
leaving me devastated and heartbroken. That was actually over a decade ago now,
and most of the time now, I really would rather forget that I had ever known
him, let alone been in love with him. It was just better that way.
I hadn’t even
known what had happened to him, until he was in his first big film – he
was still sixteen and in a movie with a cast list that read like a who’s who
of Hollywood, and included a dolphin. After that, his face never left
the big screen, gossip columns, or the internet, and he was now firmly
established as one of Hollywood’s biggest names, along with his lovely twin
brother Caspian. And here I now was, going to see their films, just to see him
again. Possibly for personal torture, possibly because I was proud that they had achieved what they wanted – it
was rather hard to tell. The sad truth was despite it being over a decade ago,
and the fact I was definitely old enough to know better, I was still
smarting from the fact he had absconded without another peep, and had unwittingly
broken my fickle young heart whilst doing so. I hadn’t
forgiven him for it, and the even sadder truth was I probably really never
would. Despite everything else I had felt for him, he had been my best friend
and I had felt completely betrayed by him. I still did.
To my
dismay, I felt eyes well up as I thought about it all. I bit my lip as I forced
myself back to my present moment, which was being tortured by Melissa’s
chirping about the three stars and movie in question. Feeling very daft about
it, I pointlessly tried to push those memories back out of my mind as she
bounced out through the shop door with her magazine. She was flicking through
the pages and showed me the article on the cast of Flight 101. After spending the last two hours watching him on a
giant screen, the last thing I wanted was to see Sebastian again, even in a
magazine.
“Listen to this,”
Melissa went on eagerly. “This should cheer you up a bit. ‘Our very own home-grown Hollywood star, Sebastian De Carr, is
now to return to his hometown with twin brother, Caspian, and co-star Kate Whittaker
after promoting their latest blockbuster, Flight 101 in London. They will be taking a well-deserved
break and returning to their family’.”
The
breath was immediately sucked from my throat and lungs. I felt my blood go icy-cold
and a frozen chill shot down my spine at hearing those words. A stunned panic
started buzzing in my head as Melissa’s excited voice faded into obscurity, suddenly
feeling somewhere between overwhelmingly nauseated and horrified. This was the
news I thought I would never hear about my old friend – and being
delivered to me via a gossip magazine article, no less – bringing
cold dread along with it. The truth was that the one thing worse than seeing
Sebastian De Carr again would be to actually not see him when he was back in the same town – that
rejection just might shatter what little of my heart that was left, and answer
the question I really no longer wanted the definitive answer to – that
he really did never want to speak to me again.
It
was easy to pretend that he was too busy, or too far away whilst he was living
in LA, or filming in some exotic location, pr even in London for a premier. But
it was rather hard to deny when he was staying with his parents three streets
away.
The harsh truth was that it was very doubtful
he would actually want to see me again
– I knew that, really. But it wasn’t
like I needed it publically and officially confirmed.
He hadn’t been bothered before, so why now? Not now
he was insanely famous. Especially
now he was one of the most famous people on the entire planet.
Not a
letter, email or a phone call – not even a small postcard to say hello had
arrived since he had assured me he would call as soon as he got there. And it
wasn’t like my online footprint was non-existent
either – like everybody else, I was signed up to
everything that might be useful or interesting and I had even managed to Google
myself with easy success relative to social networking and blog sites. It was a
fact I had tried to ignore when it came to thinking about Sebastian, and
whenever it came to thinking about him, it seemed like the minute I tried to
put him out of my mind, he was back to fill it in again in some way or another.
Through
my internal panic, I realised Melissa was still talking and continuing to chirp
on about him. It really seemed like there never was going to be any way to
escape the shadow he had left in my life. And for that, I now resented him a
lot.
“You know, that’s
really so fantastic,”
Melissa was saying excitedly. “It’s
going to be really incredible to have a Hollywood star right here! It’s
really unbelievable, isn’t it?”
If
only it was so unbelievable.
I
sighed. Sometimes being a “mature” student amongst traditionally-aged ones
was irksome when their over-excitable, optimistic teenage side was still a part
of their personality, and the deep, dark cynicism of age hadn’t
kicked in yet.
“The only thing that’s unbelievable is your chirping about him,” I
remarked wryly, nudging her gently with my elbow. “It’s not a big deal. This is his home.
He should be able to assume he can come home and just have a normal life away
from that mayhem.”
“But he’s not just another normal person.
He’s now one of Hollywood’s biggest stars, along with Caspian. See,
look – it says so right there.”
Melissa
pointed to the quote on the page with an inane, teasing grin. But it was hardly
like I needed reminding. The rejection it had inevitably led to was
still as raw now as it had been when I was fifteen and he disappeared. And I
didn’t care if I was supposed to be old enough
to know better now.
I
firmly decided I was just going to make sure that I avoided anywhere he might
be, and hopefully I then wouldn’t end up accidentally bumping into him and
embarrassing myself. But, the reality was I did
actually want to see him. I missed him – more than I would ever admit to anyone,
especially him. I missed those nights we had camped out in his back garden in
the summer, eating chocolate-chip cookies and ice cream whilst talking all
night, and the races to school, and homework copying –
which he always got away with, even though I know all teachers knew
what he was doing. Even in interviews of his that I saw now, those same charms were
put on to get everybody eating out of his hand.
Everybody
except me, and to be honest, I always suspected that he had liked being friends
with me because I never swooned over him, fell for his charms, or let him get
away with anything. But it was hardly likely his famous ego could cope
with such nonchalance anymore, was it? Probably another reason to avoid him
altogether.
“Hollywood’s
biggest stars are coming here,”
Melissa rattled on with a ridiculous grin on her face. “Aren’t you
excited?”
I
threw her an unimpressed glance. “He’s also one of my oldest friends. I just can’t
think of him like that. He’s never going to be anything but my old
friend Sebastian who used to copy my homework because he couldn’t be
bothered doing it himself.”
“Oh,
my God! Yes, that’s right.
You are his oldest friend…” Melissa
suddenly had the biggest grin on her face I had ever seen. “And that
makes you the luckiest girl ever – and my bestest friend in the whole wide world! You have to introduce me when he comes!”
I
gave her a weak smile and didn’t answer. I didn’t
have the heart to tell her there would be no
chance of such a thing happening – mainly because the likelihood of my seeing
him was next to nothing, and secondly because hell would freeze over before I
voluntarily subjected Sebastian to the hyper-excitable chaos that was Melissa Weston.
I
took a tentative glance at the magazine article myself. It was all praise for
him, and accompanied by a page-sized poster of him posing with Caspian –
clearly a promo shot for the movie. Further on in the magazine was a two-page
poster of him with Kate, in a touching embrace, faces pressed into each other a
little. Whatever else had happened between them, or not as the case was, I still
felt that begrudging pride in him for getting what he had always wanted.
“Is he really twenty-eight?”
asked Melissa incredulously, and Lisa nodded. “That
seems so unlikely. He looks amazing, much younger.”
I
threw her a withering look.
“Oh, not that you don’t, or
anything,” Melissa amended quickly. She went back to
studying the magazine, or maybe more like hiding behind it. “You
don’t look old.”
Old? Twenty-eight was old?
I
glared at her, but said nothing. Melissa carried on reading and offering quotes
from the article as we walked. I tried zoning her out, hoping she would move on
to another stupidly pointless article about some other pointless celebrity’s
cellulite and this torture could finally be over.
Thankfully,
I was finally outside my parents’ home. I politely offered Melissa to come
in and join her, on the silent proviso that I knew she wouldn’t
actually take up the offer at all.
“I’m going to meet Cameron,”
Melissa answered, referring to her boyfriend. “He’s
meeting me at that Costa Coffee place. You know, I really don’t
understand the fascination with that fancy stuff –
coffee’s coffee.
So, I’ll see you later then.”
I
watched Melissa walk away for a few moments, hurrying off to get home in time
to get herself ready for her boyfriend. Not that she needed to look any better.
The woman had perfect olive skin, long and perfect jet-black hair, and big
brown eyes that were depressingly bewitching. She was lucky she had a boyfriend
as good as Cameron to run off for. He loved the ground Melissa walked on and
certainly wasn’t afraid of showing it in public – a
rare find in twenty-year-old mesmerizingly-stunning student that probably
should have been a model himself. Of course it would be Melissa that would get him. Someone like Melissa would even
have had no problem getting someone like Sebastian,
instead of ending up being friends with him. The geek never gets the prince, no
matter what those stupid storybooks tell you. The only thing the geeks get are
the books they’re written into.
Leaving
the image of a happy Melissa trotting off, I let myself into my old family home that I had moved back into three years ago
when I had returned to start my degree. It had been odd coming back to live in
my old house, in my old room, after living in my own rented apartment in London
for several years. Voluntarily giving up a well-paying career to finally follow
the dream that I’d had since I was young had been a hard
decision, but creeping up towards the big
Three-Oh, I couldn’t face myself knowing that even though I
liked – and was very good at – my job, it was not what I wanted to do with
my whole life. I had a quarter-life crisis at age twenty-five, signed up to the
university back home – as I couldn’t
afford to study full-time and live in
London, then swallowed my independence and my pride to go and live with my
parents again for three years. It had not been easy, but now it was all very
nearly at an end, and I was about five months away from graduating, I felt it
had really been worth it.
The
only big down side had to be what I always encountered whenever I walked into
the house in the afternoons. I managed to get myself in the front door, but only
to find my bratty little sister had left her school bag in front of it for me
to trip over. The lounge stereo also blearing her terrible music was already a
complete tip. The fact she was no longer in the room and was actually upstairs
instead didn’t seem to have registered the general
common sense synaptic leap that it was probably best to turn it off since you can’t
really hear it anymore, either.
I took
just one look at the room and groaned. My parents were not going to be
impressed when they got home from work. I really couldn’t
wait until the day I graduated and could finally leave this obscure little town,
and my parents’ house, for something of my very own, once
again. And some where that didn’t also house the human tornado that was
Jamie Ryan.
I
still couldn’t understand how, after fourteen years of
being an only child, my parents had managed to curse me with a little sister. I
loved Jamie, but now she was a teenager, she was nothing but an annoying
headache of pure chaos and attitude. It was a shame that my returning to the
family fold had coincided with the hormones, and –
quite frankly – there were times that she was lucky I hadn’t
thrown her out of the upstairs window.
“It’s amazing what you can achieve in fifteen
minutes when you’re still just fourteen,” I
grumbled irately, stepping over the junk littering the hallway. Somehow, I
managed to get to the stairs without breaking anything, and retreated to my room
to hide away for a few hours.
I
also had a lot of work to start getting done. Unfortunately, English Literature
didn’t study itself, and books didn’t
write their own essays and dissertations for you, either. Now, there was something actually useful they
could get the latest version of iPad to do to make people like me happy.
“Jamie!” I yelled over the loud music coming from
her room.
“What?” came her sharp reply.
“Turn that noise off downstairs and clear
your things before someone kills themselves!”
Jamie’s
head popped round the door of my bedroom.
“It’s a foolproof burglar trap,” she
retorted with a sarcastic smirk.
I
gave her a cold stare. “As if a burglar would want to come within
thirty miles of this place, with that noise blearing out of the window. Now,
please clear that stuff away.”
“I
think you just made my point for me.”
“I
think you should clear that stuff up before I accidentally let slip about the
time I had to come and get you when you got drunk and sick at your friend’s
sleepover,” I retorted darkly.
Immediately
shutting up and muttering bad words to herself about me, Jamie went downstairs
to tidy up her things. I sat at my desk and proceeded to organise everything
into a to-do list to get through. It was “Reading
Week” now – although the percentage of students actually reading anything was probably
in the single-figures – which meant I had a whole week to
reorganise my insane workload and get a whole lot of extra assignments done
before going back to scheduled lectures again. Fun, aren’t I?
No one’s ever accused me of being able to let my
hair down, and I’m not about to change that now. I’d
already made an impressive career out of it and I was still planning to get
that First to start off my next one. That was definitely all I cared
about, as it was that which was going to get me back out of the teensy little
town I was currently forced to live in and return to London, this time to be a
writer and not just a database analyst
and architect.
The
problem about organising the disorganised was that the list of work seemed to
become longer and longer. Then I also found two forgotten notes on random
Post-Its at the bottom of my bag, and I felt my head threaten to explode. Somehow,
even working up to my years in corporations with database fixes and coding, I
had never felt as stressed as I had whilst trying to complete this course –
probably because I didn’t care as much about their databases as I
did about getting my coveted First. So, for the sake of my sanity, I then decided
to leave the work and go downstairs for some food – if I
could actually manage to get into the kitchen. I left my mountain climbing gear
in my other skirt today.
“Jamie!” I yelled again. “I’d
like to get to the kitchen in one piece, if you don’t
mind!”
“No, I don’t
mind how many pieces you get there in.”
“Jamie…”
Jamie
came muttering out of the lounge and pulled a few things out of the way.
“Okay now, Mistress Wonderful?” my
baby sister snarked, the wonderful teenager that she was. “Got a
problem with doing it yourself?”
I narrowed her eyes at her. “I
wouldn’t if it were my mess. Now, if you’re quite through with the attitude, I’d
like to make myself some dinner.”
“Ugh!”
Jamie
rolled her eyes and walked away. I completely ignored her and went into the
kitchen. Before the lounge door shut, Jamie called out again.
“Make me some!” she
yelled. I didn’t answer.
“Why did my oh-so-wonderful-mother have to
bestow on me a bratty little sister?” I muttered to myself as I poked around the
fridge. There was nothing much in there, so I settled on taking out jam to make
toast with. Then I re-limed my phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen
and bopped along to the music whilst waiting for the toaster to do its job.
“Can’t you
turn that noise down?” yelled Jamie from the lounge.
“No!” I retorted. Talk about the pot calling the
kettle a hypocrite.
I sat
at the kitchen table with my toast and put up my feet on the next chair to read
my favourite and highly battered copy of Wuthering
Heights whilst nibbling. Unfortunately, I was immediately interrupted by the doorbell chiming. As there was a risk of Hell freezing over
if Jamie answered, I got up to do it instead. I certainly couldn’t
have that on my conscience now, could
I?
I flung my legs down from the chair, got up
and grudgingly wandered through the hallway to go and answer the door. When I
opened it, I was pleasently surprised to find Sally, my best friend of forever,
standing on the step, grinning up cheerfully at me. And for some reason, there
was a little dog sitting by her feet.
“Sally, hi,” I
smiled. It had been too long since I had seen her last, with us both being
rather busy. I knelt down to pat the little dog. “And
who’s this?”
“This is Nutter,” she grinned.
“I rescued him from the local shelter. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
“He’s beautiful,” I
cooed at him. I looked back up at Sally, her clear blue eyes sparkling with
delight. “What made you suddenly get a dog?”
“I’m frankly
rather tired of being in my dull little place all by myself. I decided that
until I can find myself a nice girl who actually likes me, too, the least I
could do is get myself a dog for company instead.”
Sally was an incredibly sweet, kind-hearted and
straight-talking girl – qualities that also made her a great
friend. We had known each other since we were in primary school, and had stayed
loyal, close friends ever since. She had also been close and firm friends with
the Dr Carr twins when we were in high school, and as culpable for getting us
into trouble as Sebastian was. Their relationship had been based on doing just that
and as much sassing as they could come up with, inducing eye rolling, shaking
of heads and laughter from me and Caspian.
I had
been sincerely touched when she admitted I was her “most bestest friend in the world” and
was the very first person she told when she decided she wanted to come out. I also
unabashedly supported her immensely whilst she had trouble about it with her
family. She was then there for me when Sebastian left, and we had become closer
friends as we got older and became adults together.
Despite the fact I had left Willowfall for
university to get a degree in Computer Science in London, and Sally landed
herself a job at the local hospital as a clinic administrator after we sat our
A Levels, we had remained faithful and staunch best friends – even
if it was hard to work to coordinate our schedules just to talk occasionally on
another basis other than with online messages and email. Sally’s
sporadic visits to London had been even more challenging. Even now, after
moving back to Willowfall, we had to work hard to coordinate our schedules, and
to see her this afternoon was a brilliant surprise. The puppy was an even
bigger and better one.
The
dog’s beautiful, big pathetic brown eyes were
staring back up at me, and I smiled down at it. It was a scruffy looking mutt,
a mongrel that seemed to have had husky in his DNA at some point in its clear
mix-and-match genetic history. I ruffled his soft coat while he tried to lick my
hand. Nutter gave a friendly yelp and nuzzled against me.
“Would you like to help take him for a walk?”
Sally offered, smiling warmly at me.
Glad
to have an excuse to get out of the house, I pulled on my coat, called to Jamie
I was going out]t, and stuffed house keys in my pocket, before following Sally
and Nutter down the driveway, glad to have a moment alone with the only person
I trusted more than anyone.
“So, how are things going then?”
Sally asked as we walked down the road. “I haven’t
seen you for a few days. Have you been busy with studying?”
I
shrugged. “Basically, that’s it
in a nutshell. But things are all right. I have a life of complete boredom and
constant study, but other than that it’s great. I’ll
have so much nothing to write about, that I’ll
have no problem getting work as a
freelancer once I graduate.”
“Your course involves reading books.
I can’t imagine it can possibly be that bad,” Sally retorted wryly. “You
love reading – you can’t possibly be bored.”
“I am spending nearly all my time glued to
my laptop trying to get a First,” I told her dully. “I’m
brain-dead and actually bored of reading
the same things over and over, and even writing now. I never thought that would
happen.”
“I know what you mean,”
Sally said sympathetically. “Some things just don’t
live up to expectations. You know, when I took that job in the hospital, I
thought there would be an abundance of intelligent doctors and caring nurses,
looking all sophisticated and glamorous. Instead, I got a dingy little office,
there were no cute doctors, and I see hardly anyone at all –
unless they’re boring old, fat men who have come to fix
my computer. That ER TV show should
be banned for misleading information.”
“And speaking of misleading information,
Sebastian and Caspian are supposedly coming home.”
Sally
looked across at me in surprise. “Sebastian and Caspian De Carr?”
I raised
my eyebrows. “Do you really
know any other Sebastian and Caspians?”
Sally
gave me a sly sideways glance. “They’re coming back?”
“According to a magazine article I was
unfortunate enough to read.”
Sally
gave me a sardonic smile and sorted derivatively. “Hm. I thought they’d
forgotten where they lived.”
“The article said they’re
coming back with Kate Whittaker, of all people, after promoting of Flight 101 in London.”
“When are they supposed to be here?”
“Soon, I suppose.” I
simply shrugged. What else was there to do
with that information? “But I doubt he’ll
want to see anyone from here again.”
“Of course he’ll
want to see you – it’s Sebastian,”
Sally said assuredly, seeing right through me like shined crystal glass. She
put her arm through mine and gave a sympathetic squeeze. “But
you’d think he’d
have said something.”
I
gave a hollow laugh. “He hasn’t
spoken to me in more than ten years,
why would he do so now?”
Sally
offered nothing but a compassionate look and said nothing. She was the only
person who knew about my secret crush on Sebastian, and how upset I had been
when he left. I was pretty sure she knew how deep my feelings had gone, despite
the fact I’d never expressly or explicitly told her. It was the only thing I had
ever refused to admit to her. But, in all fairness, I hadn’t
ever thought I’d needed to –
Sally could read me better than I could read a Jane Austen novel.
“Well, he didn’t
want to know me when he went LA, so he’s hardly
going to want to speak to me now,” I muttered with a sigh. “So
much for being best friends.”
“He’s young and he’s male,”
Sally remarked dryly. “You can’t
expect much from someone who falls in both those categories.”
That was the very moment Nutter decided to
pull hard on his lead to go and sniff
something or other on my side of the pavement. It sent me nearly over him, and Sally
right into me.
“What the— you
are definitely aptly-named, Nutter!” Sally
beReathlrssly laughed at his antics, whilst tugging him to her and onto her
side of the pavement again. She then put her arm around my shoulder and
squeezed it. “You OK, Lis?”
I smiled at her and shook my head at the
dog’s antics. “You
two are going to be quite the little team,” I teased. “You
already can’t walk in a straight line as it is!”
“All right, laugh it up little Bookworm,”
Sally grinned at me. “We’re going to be fine, aren’t,
Nuts?”
The dog had his nose to the ground.
Sniffing happily, tail wagging, and paying no attention at all to his new
mother.
“Dogs are strange,” she
then shrugged, before turned back to me. “Look, with this Sebastian thing... You
never know. I mean, he might come back here and fall head over heels for you.”
I snorted. “I don’t think so somehow.”
“Then why don’t you
try and find someone else? You’ve never had a real relationship with
anybody, and half-hearted attempts at dating don’t
count. Pining for him when he’s on the other side of the Atlantic and
never talking to you isn’t doing you any good. There must be
someone?”
“I’m not interested in relationships. With
anybody.”
The expression on Sally’s
face told me very clearly that she really didn’t
believe me.
“You can lie to yourself. But you can’t lie
to me. You’re not very good at it anyway – I
can see right through you.”
“So, you can see right through to my fickle,
broken heart?”
Sally gave me a sympathetic smile, warmly murmuring,
“Yeh, I can.”
I
stared at the pavement and Nutter’s waggling backside as he trotted happily
in front of us, his tail flinging itself about so much it was a surprise it
didn’t fall off. The cold wind had started
turning icy, becoming marginally stronger , and it felt like it was trying to
slap me out of my delusional stupor. Sally hadn’t
been too far off the mark with her remark about the fairytale ending she
suggested – I suppose part of me had always fantasised
about such a thing happening. But reality was not written by fluffy-fantasy trashy
romance authors with “a
guaranteed Happily Ever After” enshrined in their description, so there
was never going to be any such outcome for me. His returning in silence was
testament to that, if I had needed any further proof other than basic common
sense.
“So, have you seen the new film?” Sally
broke into my thoughts and made me blink my desolate musings away. I shrugged
nonchalantly
“Yes. Well, Melissa wanted to go see it and
Cameron obviously wasn’t going, since it’s not
superheroes, Star Wars, or other
geekland inspired blockbusters. So, I gave in and went with her.” And
wished I hadn’t. “It was
really good. He was good. They both were. They always are.”
“Good enough to see again with me?”
Well, I walked into that one.
“I suppose,” I
sighed. The thought of paying to sit through another two hours of him cavorting
with the gorgeously stunning Kate Whittaker was making me feel a rather petty
pang of twisting jealous nausea, but if Sally wanted company to see it, I wasn’t
going to deny her that.
By this time, we had also completed our
little round-trip about the area and we were back at my door. Nutter started
twirling himself around a lamp post and getting himself tangled, once we
stopped at the end of my driveway, and Sally gave me a hug to leave.
“Don’t forget to tell me when the guys are back,” she
said with a wink. “I want to kick their tight little backsides
for abandoning us for fame, fortune and Hollywood glory.”
“Come on, Sal, Sebastian’s not going to tell me he’s
back,” I told her straightforwardly. “He
never told me he was even coming home at all. He hasn’t
spoken to me for years. He’s obviously not going to start now.”
“Don’t assume things, Lisa Ryan. Being back here
might remind him what a nonce he’s turned into and make him change his mind.”
I decided to say nothing further about it
and just waved Sally and Nutter off. Then I went back into the house feeling
even more empty and miserable than I had before.
CHAPTER 2
The
first thing I did once I was back in the house was to try and get the man back
out of my mind, so I went to turn on the TV and watch something to take my mind
away from him. As Sod and his stupid Law would have it, the first thing I saw when the screen came
to life was a close-up of Sebastian’s face. It filled the screen as he answered
a question from the interview about making Flight
101. Just what I needed right now to make me feel even worse.
“Actually, it was really fun,” he
was saying, his easy and charming smile evoking a sad pulling on her heart. “When
the plane crashes, we’re on a model simulator and it got flooded
with freezing water when it was supposed hit the sea. I’ll
tell you, it’s not much fun running around when you’re
soaking wet. Kate really didn’t
like it – she doesn’t
like water much, and this didn’t make her feel any better about it!”
The screen cut to the three of them
sitting together, talking to the really beautiful female interviewer. Sebastian’s
cheeky smile played up to the interviewer, and the woman was completely taken
in and was openly flirting with him. Sebastian seemed quite happy for her to do
so, all smiling and smouldering at her with his easy charm on full-throttle,
and frankly I wished someone could just whack me on the head with a mallet and knock
the crazy out of it.
I so
did not want to be in love with him. The Big Problem was that, if I ever did
see him again, that just that fact alone was going to be a big problem. I was his old best friend,
a computer geek and boring English Literature student – hardly up to scratch against such
beautiful, exotic women who were quite ready to throw themselves at him.
“Dream on, Lis,” I
muttered to myself. “You’ve definitely got no chance now.”
I rubbed my face in desolate frustration at
my own stupidity, and scowled at the gorgeous, familiar, smiling one on the
screen. Refusing to watch the rest of the programme, I turned it off after yet
one more person announced that Flight 101
was to be the “biggest
hit of the year”, and I flipped over to a True Crime channel,
instead. At least something on there would be classed with an IQ higher than
the flirting bimbo, and they were definitely going to be having a worse
day than I was, so I watched that instead.
I booted up the laptop with a sigh and
tried to focus my mind on doing some actual work on the damned Dissertation
Thesis I needed to complete, which was mainly about dear old Master
Shakespeare. I had noticed that, whilst his plays were enjoyable to watch with
the RSC, he was rather a bugger to study – sometimes his characters were so involving
or entertaining, I kept forgetting to analyse them and instead just
carried on reading. So, really, I needed a lot
of concentration and hard work to get this paper about him finally finished. I had a decent main body, a mass of notes, and more
nicely workable paragraphs to incorporate into it, but I had been so far barely
able to draft an acceptable first sentence and introduction to my direction on
the set subject question, nor had any idea how to actually finish it off.
“Lisa!”
I groaned and hid my head in my hands. I
didn’t even want
to know what my little sister wanted next. It was no wonder, really, that my
parents both had hard jobs that kept them out at all times – our
mother was a nurse, father the area manager and key troubleshooter of a large
retail company. I didn’t want to be home with a teenage tornado
like Jamie tearing up the place, either. Yet, here I was. Unfortunately.
Jamie’s head
poked round the door as I lifted my head from my hands. “Can I
go out?”
“Only if you’ve done
your homework,” I immediately replied. I gave her a stern
glare and Jamie nodded to say that she – supposedly – had.
In fairness, though, she had never been known to lie; she was blunt and
straightforward, which was fairly reassuring to a certain extent. “Be
back by nine.”
Jamie
disappeared and then I heard the front door slam.
“Peace at last,” I
gratefully muttered to the empty room, and I went back to trying to do some
work.
I
yanked out my lovely Kindle tablet to read more of Shakespeare’s
text. Shoving my ridiculously unruly, super-long auburn hair – no,
not ginger! – out of my face, where it always fell when
it wasn’t tied up and tightly controlled, I put my feet
up on the footstool and leaned back to read more words of The Bard. I happily
tapped out a few notes on the laptop as I read, and occasionally having to yank
a pen out of my hair – I twisted them in there to make sure I
didn’t lose them – to
write a few other things into the real paper notebook on my lap, under the iPad.
I typed and scribbled on real paper, as well electronic, finding that using
both was better for my revision later on, arguing with myself about the values
of doubling my workload versus actually passing my degree.
As
always, I was quite cheerfully muttering myself and telling the walls about how
irritated I was. But despite that, I was always happy in my little bubble of
concentration, when my mind was chattering away to itself, working out what it
needed from the text and how it would work itself into the final draft. I never
noticed when the time was slipping away, flipping through different texts through
the Kindle to find what references I was looking for. Being able to have all
the books I wanted in one place that also allowed me to highlight the passages
and write notes on them as well, made me immensely glad I’d
held out on going to do this degree later on, so I would be able to have the
Kindle to work on.
I
was blissfully oblivious to anything other than focusing on getting those ideas
down on my iPad, since my notes were better off on there – things
written the Cloud was harder to lose or forget... A mistake I wasn’t
going to make twice.
OK... Three
times.
The shrill ringing of the house’s landline
phone suddenly chirped shrilly and loudly, making me jump violently and startling
me sharply out of my reverie. It immediately snapped my concentration levels, leaving
me staring at it in stupefied shock – nobody
ever called that anymore. Even the
spammers had given up in it a couple of years
back, and I still had no idea why my parents even kept it.
I grimaced, wishing I could flush it
down the toilet once and for all. Then convinced myself that I should probably
get up to go and answer the useless thing, because otherwise it more than
likely would never stop screaming.
“Peace
my arse – I
obviously spoke too soon,” I muttered dismally to myself, still utterly
oblivious to the amount of time that had passed since Jamie had left. “Sodding
persistent cold-callers – they all need to be thrown in a hole and
shot with a piranha cannon.”
Very reluctantly, I put down the iPad and
pushed myself off the couch, wandering over to the cordless handset, surreally
ringing on its cradle. Irritably, I scowled at it and poked at the green answer
button.
“Hello?” I barked impatiently, still expecting some
sly cold-caller or spam robo-voice on the other end, using a different spoofed
mobile number so that they didn’t classify as “unknown”.
“Uh, could I speak to Lisa Ryan, please?”
Taken
by surprise, I nearly dropped the phone. Who the hell knew I was here, that
would call on a number I hadn’t actively used in ten years? I frowned,
taken aback, and doubly concerned by the
slightly familiar voice – one I just couldn’t
place at that moment.
“Speaking,” I
replied cautiously. I couldn’t imagine who could possibly be calling me,
and on my parents’ phone. After all, I had a perfectly good
mobile and I never gave my parents’ landline number out to anyone – why would
I? It was pointless and arcane, and I didn’t really
live here anymore – it was only temporary and cheap
accommodation until I could finish with university and go back to London.
There
was a short pause as I waited with some confusion for my answer.
That
answer was not one that I would have ever expected.
“Oh. Hi, Lisa. It’s Sebastian.”
The world just stopped. I actually
even stopped breathing.
What
the hell...?
I
almost dropped the handset in true shock. It felt like the breath had been physically
punched right out of me. My heart started pounding in my ears so hard, I
thought I was about to either pass out or have a heart attack. Or maybe a
stroke.
Oh.
Dear. God. In. Heaven.
“Sebastian?” I breathed out, barely able to find my
voice in shock. I leaned my back against the wall behind me and tried to
control the feeling, screaming shock in my head.
“Um,
yes… Sebastian. From school? Sebastian De
Carr? Do you... Do you remember me?”
“Oh, my…” I
whispered under my breath.
I
barely noted he seemed to be rather nervous and rambling. I was too busy rubbing
my head in confusion, and wondering what kind of bloody stupid question that was.
I
also wasn’t quite sure that in fact I hadn’t
fallen asleep in front of my iPad, and that this wasn’t just
a very strange dream.
“Well… Ah… Yes.
Yes, of course I remember,” I managed to ramble out in a bewildered
staccato mumble.
I
quickly took a long, deep breath and managed to get myself onto the arm of the
nearby armchair to sit down. I also managed to scrape my jaw off the floor to
speak to him again.
“How...
Um. How are you?” I managed to ask, rather hoarsely.
“I’m... good,”
replied Sebastian uncertainly, that now familiar borderline American twang
coming through. “Good. You?”
“Fine.
Yeh. Fine. Absolutely fine.”
Well, that was certainly the biggest lie I
had ever told. Ever. I was so not
fine. I was everything but fine.
There
was now nothing but silence. It was
uncomfortable and screaming at me. So, I tried to make it go away.
“Where
are you?” I finally asked.
“Well,
actually, I’m... home. In fact, I’m at
my parents’ house right now.”
“Oh…”
I really
wasn’t
expecting that.
“I
didn’t realise you really were coming back,” I
remarked quietly, this time only half-lying. I honestly hadn’t really
believed he actually would return to
Willowfall. Ever.
The butterflies of panic and nerves were suddenly
starting to flutter more in the pit of my stomach – now,
it was finally starting to sink in that this was actually real. After twelve years, I was actually, genuinely talking
to my old best friend again.
“To be
honest, I thought I’d surprise you. And hope you’d
remember me, and want to hear from me again.”
“Oh,
don’t worry, I’m
surprised.” I found myself grimly contemplating the
irony and wondering how he could ever imagine that I wouldn’t want to hear from him. I had been waiting many long years to hear from him. “So, I’d ask
if you lost my number when you went over there, but you’ve clearly
answered that question now. But it’s been more than ten years since you’ve
spoken to me, so you can safely say I wasn’t expecting it.”
“I know,
I’m really sorry about that. In my defence I
did only find it in my old journal when I went back up to my old room. And I honestly have been really busy. And it’s
expensive.”
This
time I gave a harsh laugh.
“Since
when has money been an object?” I exclaimed indignantly. I then realised I
wasn’t just shocked
at him calling now. I was suddenly furious that he hadn’t
done it before. “A
phone call would hardly have put your
bank balance in jeopardy.”
“I
really have been busy,”
Sebastian repeated weakly, completely skirting the issue. “So,
how are you?”
“I’m
fine.”
Still such a blatant lie, but it wasn’t
like I was going to say anything else.
“What
are you doing now?”
I could still hear the uncertain tone in
his voice, and it sounded strange – given we were once inseparable best
friends who could virtually read each other’s
minds. Suddenly, it seemed we were forced into the reality that we had somehow
become adults who no longer seemed to know each other, and aware life had
changed a lot since we were kids running about together in school.
“I’m
about to finish a degree. What about you?” I immediately grimaced at the ridiculous
query. “Although, that’s
probably a stupid question, considering I can’t
move for billboards of some random plane flick that’s
apparently out now.”
“Just
open the internet, newspaper or trashy magazine, and you can even see the things
I haven’t done too,”
Sebastian retorted dryly.
“Congratulations
on Flight 101,” I
ventured to mention. “It’s really good.”
“Oh. Thanks,” said
Sebastian, sounding a little surprised. “You, ah...
You actually went to see it?”
“Yes,” I admitted
with embarrassment. “I’ve seen a few of your films actually.”
Of
course, I had seen all of them, many
times. But wasn’t willing to admit that much. Not yet.
“Why?”
I
felt myself redden and was thankful he couldn’t see
me. That was another thing I wasn’t going to tell him either.
“Well,
you used to brag about your wonderful acting talents, so I went to check out the
goods,” I answered flippantly. “So,
now I get to tell you you’re terrible with just cause, whereas before
I’d never really had any proof.”
“Thank
you,” retorted Sebastian good-naturedly. “Already
back to the good old days of insulting me. I’m
glad to see nothing has changed.”
“I
didn’t pander to your ego before, and I’m not
about to start doing that now,” I replied, aiming for nonchalant. But then the tone inadvertently slid off
somewhere and ended up in snide land. “I’m more than certain there are plenty of
other people who are willing to do that instead. There always have been.”
Who
did he think he was, anyway – disappearing from my life without another
word after being my best friend for five years, then thinking he could pick up
the phone and waltz back in when it suited him? Then on top of that, pretending
that an entire decade hadn’t lapsed in the meantime? Well, that
smarted – and showed blatant signs of typical
Hollywood egocentricity.
“Yeh,
I know, I have to admit that, too – many people just don’t
treat me now the way that they used to,” Sebastian seem to readily agree,
nonchalantly. “They’re too busy trying to either make a quick
buck out of me or sucking up so bad I don’t know where they end and I begin.”
“So,
that’s how fame and fortune is treating you?”
“It’s
like you’d never believe,” Sebastian
muttered, giving a slight sigh. “The tabloids are the worst. You know, it’s
quite funny when someone you haven’t met for evem five minutes thinks they
know more about me than I do. Like the other day according to the New
York Times, I’d slept with some actress. The thing is,
the closest I’ve ever got to her is watching her
commercials on TV.”
“More’s the
pity for her, I’m sure.” I
screwed up my nose and plonked my head in my hand. That hadn’t
meant to come out. He was bound to realise by that I was acknowledging he was
ridiculously lovely to look at. His ego didn’t
need that.
“Meaning
what?”
“With
their imagination, you’d think these people should be writing tawdry
romantic fiction,” I remarked, ignoring his question.
“It shows
how desperate these people are for a sellable story,” Sebastian
muttered.
“Or
just wishful thinking.”
“Anyway,
you didn’t answer my question – what
did you mean?” Sebastian asked again.
I
tried to breezily laugh it off whilst my cheeks reddened.
“Do
you walk round with your eyes shut?” I eventually answered him. “If I had
a penny for every girl who wanted you, drooled about you, lusted for you,
wished to be anywhere near you, I’d be almost as rich as you.”
“That’s
just not true.”
“Bragging
about just how rich you are now?” I half-teased.
“That’s
definitely not what I meant,” Sebastian huffed.
“Come
on, Sebastian, why do you think those films gross so much? Or why magazines
print posters of you and Caspian? Why do those people scream and mob you? And
why the hell do those stories get printed? It’s
hardly because you look like you could be Shrek’s
stunt-double.”
“Well,
I don’t know. I don’t question these things – I
just take the money and say thank you
very much, before I run away fast, so they can’t ask
for a refund.”
I
laughed quietly in amusement the mild attempt at modesty. “You
know damn well it’s because you look like a Greek god. If I
hear from one more person that they think you are the best thing in the world,
I’ll scream.”
“Well,
well, little Lisa,” Sebastian teased with mock surprise. “I’d say
you were jealous.”
I
almost dropped the handset again, for a second believing he was serious.
“No!” I
forced a surprised and mocking laugh. “Hardly. But I am tired of hearing it.”
“Yeah,
right.”
“Yes!
Clearly you’ve let it all get to your head.”
“If
you say so,” Sebastian continued to tease.
“I do.
Not everyone thinks you’re an idol to be worshipped. I’ve
known you too long.”
Sebastian
laughed lightly and then changed the subject. “So, I
take that you’ve heard of Kate Whittaker, since you’ve
seen the movie?”
I
raised my eyebrows in surprise at him mentioning her, specifically.
“Yes,
her name has come up a few times, whenever I get on the internet, or in every
magazine I’ve walked past,” I
remarked dryly. I screwed up my nose and pursed my lips at the mention of her
name, the images of her cavorting with him on the screen still vividly in my
mind after watching it just a few hours ago.
“Well,
she’s here too, and I’m
pretty sure you two would really get along great,”
Sebastian added, much to my surprise and unease. “Why
don’t you come round and meet her? She could do
with a girlfriend to talk to while she’s here, instead of just me and Caspian. You
could come over sometime… Or, you know, whatever you want. If you want.”
“Oh,
sure. No problem. I could do that,” I replied, quite blithely and without
thinking.
Then I did
think about it – and panicked.
What the hell, Lisa?
What was I even doing, blithely agreeing
to be a mega famous Hollywood A-Lister’s
girl talk chat-buddy? What in god’s name was I supposed to say to her?
Only
just then did it suddenly dawn on me what that ultimately meant – that
I would actually have to go and see
him again. The thing I thought that would never happen was actually happening, and it now seemed like I was
getting an invitation from him to meet
up and see him again.
Oh,
lord. What had I just agreed to? I couldn’t see
him again – especially with her – it
might just break whatever was left of my heart that still remained.
“Oh, OK.”
Sebastian sounded rather taken aback by the easy agreement he had received from
me. Then there was a pause. “Uh, Lis, I know it’s
been a while, and I don’t have a right to ask, but could I ask a favour?”
Oh, hell, I immediately thought. My
initial reaction was to tell him “no”
without even asking what it was – I felt nothing but dread at that tone. I
still wasn’t even sure that I didn’t
have my face in the iPad and actually dreaming it all. But the truth was my
heart skipped a little beat at hearing him call me the old nickname he had
given me once again, and I couldn’t say no.
Life
had suddenly become surreal with just a five minute phone call. Sebastian De Carr, Hollywood’s
Elite Megastar Actor, had just called me
out of the blue to ask me for a favour, and for me to meet Super-Megastar
Hollywood Actress Kate Whittaker. To keep her company, of all things, which
surely, was en “What
is it?” I asked my old friend – or was it former friend? – with
suspicious trepidation. Whenever he had asked for a favour in the past it had
never boded well, and that was obviously my first instinct now.
“I was
wondering – hoping – that
maybe you might come out with me, for a walk? Now. Well, whenever you’re
ready, I mean. I just wanted to go to a few stores, in the town. I’d
love to see you – we could talk more and—”
“And
you will get mobbed to death,” I immediately interjected dryly, a
horrified chill of dead crawling down my spine at the mere thought of being
dragged into such madness. I was only too aware what kind of effect that Sebastian De Carr would have on the
mediocre population of Willowfall town centre. It didn’t
matter who he used to be, he was now a very famous Hollywood film star, and
that was the only thing that would matter to them these days. My own health and sanity certainly wouldn’t. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not
subjecting myself to that. You want to be killed by being trampled on by the
masses, that’s your funeral. Don’t
drag me into it.”
“I
live here, and if I want to go out, I will,” he
said stubbornly.
“You don’t live here, you live in LA. You haven’t
lived here for well over a decade, and you are not just the charming schoolboy
the shop assistants loved and all the teenage girls liked to flirt with.”
Sebastian
huffed down the phone. “It’s still my hometown. I should be able to do
what I want in it.”
Sighing
in exasperation, I tried to push away the rising panic screaming away in my
head. “It doesn’t
work like that, and you really should know it.”
Sebastian
huffed again. Apparently not everything had changed in the last twelve years.
It sound so familiar to me it made me want to smile and cry at the same time. I’d
missed my friend every moment if everyday since the moment he’d
left – his voice, and even that little huff, were
things I thought I’d never hear again, and to hear them both was
some sort of balm to that wound in a way I’d admit to no one else but myself.
“Why
can’t Ms Whittaker go with you? Or someone
else?” I asked him. Someone – anyone – other
than myself.
“Are
you trying to diplomatically tell me you don’t
want to go?” Sebastian asked suspiciously. “Anyway,
Kate’s sleeping, Caspian is annoying and
somewhere else, and you’re currently not any of those, so I thought
you’d do an old friend a favour and come with
me?”
“And
clearly I’m just a big softy with a death-wish,” I
grumbled. Whilst a lot of things had changed in the past decade. My ability to
say no to Sebastian had apparently not. “All
right then, I’ll go.”
“Oh,
really? Wow, thanks, you’re great! See you in a few minutes then in
Bye!”
As
soon as I hung up on him, I lowered the handset in shock and stared at it still
clutched in my hand, unable to quite believe the last five minutes had really been
real. Every part of me seemed to be trembling from the astonishment of hearing
his voice again, and my poor nerves were now very much on edge at the
realisation that I had also just agreed to also see him again. Right now,
in just a few minutes.
After eleven long years of both desperately
missing and utterly resenting him, I was finally meeting him again.
The problem was I really didn’t
think I actually wanted to. This
time when I saw him he wouldn’t just be “my” Sebastian. He would be Sebastian De Carr, world-renowned famous Hollywood
superstar A-List actor. The man I saw on the cinema and television screens,
in the brightly-coloured magazines, entertainment news, front pages of anything
printed, and everywhere online.
Neither of us were fifteen anymore, but how much would he have changed? Would
there still be enough of the old Sebastian left to even recognise the boy I had
once been in love with and adored – or, in person, would he have morphed into
a stranger that I simply no longer knew? Despite the fact it had felt like I
had just had my old friend on the phone, I frankly didn’t
hold out much hope that was who he was really going to be now.
My
mind was still swirling as I picked up my own phone to call Sally, swiping
through to the number with shaking hands, taking controlled and measured
breaths to try and calm myself from completely being overcome with trepidation
and shock over what had just transpired, and was still ongoing.
It felt like a ghost from the past remerging
This wasn’t something
I could process on my own and I needed a sensible friend to help talk some
sense into me.
“Oh, my
word, what’s the matter? What’s
happened?” Sally’s first reaction to my panic was concern when
she answered her phone and heard my voice.
“Christ,
you’ll never guess,” I breathed
out, pushing my fingers through my hair, distractedly. “Sebastian
actually just called me.”
“Whoa,
he did?”
“Called
the old house landline, of all things. It was very lucky no one else – and
by that, I mean Jamie – was
home. I didn’t even recognise it was his voice.”
“There,
see, I told you,” Sally cheerfully replied, completely
oblivious to the internal war and panic attack I was suffering. “What
did he say?”
“That he
was back, and that he’s got Kate
Whittaker, of all people, with him. He asked me to go and surely endure
mobbing and screaming crowds by accompanying him into town. He clearly doesn’t
realise that jealous freaks will rip my
head off and I have no inclination to be all over the internet and social
media, under the banner of Mystery Girl
Seen With Film Star.”
“Oh,
so it was nothing much then,” Sally retorted flippantly, laughing. “Boy, do you know how to be dramatic, don’t
you? ”
I
snorted derivatively. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Amazingly,
Sally actually laughed at me. “Oh, definitely
not dramatic at all! And you said he
wouldn’t want to know you! Why would he phone you
up and ask you out – alone?”
I
scowled and rolled my eyes. “I’m going out to the shops with him, Sal, not
on a date.”
“Not
yet…”
“I’m going now,” I
said firmly. “I’ll go and see him and I will tell you what
happened when I get back. See you later.”
Sally
was still laughing as I hung up. Slowly, I got up from the arm of the chair I
was still perched on, and placed the handset that was still next to me back in
its charging dock on the windowsill. I then wandered across to where my bag was,
its contents were strewn across the couch and floor, and stared at it for a
second, wondering if I was really
going to do this. Even after nearly a decade, I was still dancing to Sebastian’s
tune, and I could almost feel the clock spinning backwards –
leaving me feeling like a fifteen-year-old hopeless geek again.
Somehow,
I had completely forgotten I had been a real adult, successfully adulting,
since I was twenty-one and out on my own after graduating from university in
London. Had impressed big corporate businesses and NHS bosses alike for
complex data handling contracts worth a lot to both me and them. Successfully
delivered virtually impossible success at a speed they – for
some reason – didn’t expect. Ran my own tiny home and my
enjoyable life well. Made my own decision to chase my dream of writing,
planned it all meticulously, and also done that just as successfully.
Yet,
somehow, with one damned phone call, I was regressed to being a child in
my parents’ house, rattling in my bones with stunned numbness
and confused by immense nerves, now I going to meet a ghost from my past that I
had thought of as long gone.
Utterly
dazed and wrong footed, I found myself repacking my giant satchel bag in a
reflective trance, returning my mobile phone, iPad and notebooks to it, feeling
guilty at packing them away so as to meet Sebastian the second he
clicked his fingers again. The work still needed to be done, and this was
supposed to be a much-needed study week. But I was finding myself trying to
convince my conscience that it was only going to be one afternoon, and that I owed myself closure so I could finally move
on from him. I almost managed to
convince myself that it was the right thing to do.
Picking
up my coat from the back of the couch where I had flung it, I pulled it back
on, threw the big satchel bag across my body, and went trotting straight out the
door before I had enough time to talk myself back out of it again.
I
kept walking quickly down the road and onwards, across towards his parent’s
house, striding purposefully enough to not overthink everything. Although it
was barely a five-minute walk, it seemed
to take forever – long enough for me to nearly turn back
five separate times. Nerves jangled somewhere around the pit of my stomach, and
with every step I took I wondered what on
earth I was doing. I knew I
should have just turned about, gone home and returned to Master Shakespeare and
my current life. Stupidly enough, I didn’t.
But
still, I hesitated as I turned the corner to make it onto the street where his parents
still lived. With a calming breath, I carried on, my head down and my heart
pounding in my ears. It was then that I suddenly realised, for some unfathomable
reason, I had not even given a single thought to how I looked before propelling myself out of
the house like my backside was aflame. It slowly started to dawn on me that I
was going to meet up with a massive movie
star who now resided in Los Angeles, with absolutely no makeup and my hair
in a major flyaway tizzy. I barely wore
any makeup in the first place as a norm, and had probably already rubbed off
all the mascara – well, what little I had bothered to put on
this morning – all over my face. It was my usual habit, because
it tended to irritate my eyes and contact lenses, which then made my eyes water
and made the mascara run down my face anyway.
The sad truth was that my looks were just
never anything I really thought about –
books, computers, Kindles and iPads didn’t care what you looked like, and it hardly
mattered what my appearance was when I all I did was go to lectures and
otherwise stay at home to work. The very least the university generally asked
for was that you were dressed and handed in your work on time, so, I rarely
bothered to put much of an effort, given the only thing messing around with my
insane hair and makeup did was waste my time when trying to get out the house,
when I had inevitably got up late.
Today was very different, though. Today
should have called for effort, no
matter how unnatural it was for me these days. I wasn’t
even wearing anything half-decent. My current attire consisted of my usual
basic uniform of a long, flowing black skirt, an easy short-sleeved blouse, and
a long, oversized cardigan under an old belted winter coat. Feet were happy in
their favourite worn-and-scuffed, traditional black Doc Marten boots. It was
hardly a work of glamorous fashion art, and the exact opposite of what Sebastian De Carr would be used to
seeing on the women he met now. Not that I ought to care. After all, I was only
going to put my old, ancient crush to bed once and for all.
No... Really.
I was.
Honest.
I pushed my maddening long, annoying hair
back from my face, just as the wind kept insisting on blowing the wild mood of
fluff that sat on my head absolutely everywhere, and for the first time I began
to realise the awful reality that I probably looked a complete mess, and immediately wanted to find a
hole to jump into.
Quite suddenly, I really cared about what I looked like –
quite possibly for the first time in my life. I didn’t even
have a ponytail band in my bag or pockets to tie up that unruly pile of
uncontrollable fluff on my head to make it at least look vaguely
presentable, especially now it was being blown all over the place. This was not the way to look when meeting an old–crush-come-best-friend-turned-hot-movie-star.
By the time I had completed this conversation of rising panic with myself, I was closing in on the once-familiar house. Then I made the mistake of looking up from my feet.
Immediately, the vignette around my sight threatened
to engulf it entirely in a hypoxic panic, as my breath caught in my lungs and
closing throat – because to my shock and horror, I was
looking up to see one-half of Hollywood’s biggest megastar duos walking towards me,
blond hair styled with wax and swept back, hands shoved into the pockets of a
long, heavy-looking black military coat of Cashmere that clearly cost more than
a souped-up power-horse PC, and long neck wrapped up in a black Cashmere scarf.
I
stopped in my tracks, a deer in headlights, and stared. I was entirely unsure
I was actually seeing what I thought I was – it felt like it should have been more of a hallucination, or
maybe a mirage in front of me. But then the penny dropped that he really, truly
was actually there and not a mirage, my
heart skipped straight into my throat –
Sebastian De Carr really was here, in front of me, walking
towards me.
I
nearly turned on my heel and ran away before he saw me.
Oh,
bugger, bugger, bugger, I
thought in nervous panic, just as he looked up.
Familiar and intense blue-green locked onto
mine and he instantly gave me that devastating smile that had everyone with a
pulse falling at his feet. He was even more beautiful than he looked in all
those silly pictures and the over-hyped films I kept watching him in. Memories suddenly
bombarded me of how beautiful I’d always thought he had been before, when
he had been my best friend, and how I had thought that mainly because I had known what a beautiful, genuinely sweet
and fun person he was above anything else.
For a moment I took a second to really
wonder if he had come back anything like that boy who had left that I had
loved.
Fighting the urge to flee as fast as my
feet could carry me, I forced myself to try to at least try to smile and keep
going towards him, feeling my legs slowly go weak with cold nerves as I got
closer. Unnervingly, I it was also becoming clearer with each step just how
much like the old Sebastian he still looked up-close –
which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. The last
thing I needed was to be in love with this stranger simply on the memory of who
he used to be. I also hoped – strongly
– that now wouldn’t be the time that I fell over my feet for
the first time in twenty-five years, since I learned to walk properly.
“Hey, Lisa!”
Sebastian cheerfully called out. He sauntered towards me the second he spotted
me, giving me a warm, musing smile that made my heart bounce –
which in turn then made me want to kick myself. “Wow,
you look… smaller!”
I
opened my mouth to say something nice to him, but then I quickly shut it as my
attempt at a smile turned into a scowl.
“Thank
you,” I grumbled instead, giving him a tight
smile and trying to calm my tingling nerves. I looked up at him from my rather
miniscule height and resented how much extra he seemed to have grown after he
had left. Unfortunately, my own height gene had run off to hide in a corner once
I had managed to scrape an inch over five-feet. “That’s
what every girl wants to hear. But I’m not smaller. You’re just
taller.”
I
stuffed my hands in my coat pockets as he grinned cheerfully down at me. He was
way over six feet tall, his blue eyes sparkling, his perfect blond hair shorter
and more styled than on that TV show I’d seen just before. He looked even better
than that, now he was standing right in front of me, and I looked back at him
nervously as he smiled warmly at me. I felt all those old feelings for him come
rushing back, nearly overwhelming me, but the one feeling that was stronger
than most was the one where I realised how much I had missed him.
“Hey,
you don’t have glasses now,” he
suddenly remarked, smiling wider. I noticed the American twang I had started to
get used to when he was doing interviews was not quite as strong and speaking
more like his old self. “I can see your eyes and face now without
having to steal them. You have contacts?”
“Yes,
and hopefully you won’t try and steal and wear those, too,” I
retorted dryly. The times he had stolen my thick glasses and put them on
himself, leaving me blind and stranded, had not been amusing in the least for
me, and he always used to tell me that he did it to see my “beautiful eyes and pretty face”.
However, I always believed that he used that excuse to steal them without me
hitting him too hard afterwards.
“It’s
nice to be able to see your eyes, they’re still really beautiful.”
I
threw him a withering look. It was the same old line, still.
“I
would hardly have changed them,” I
remarked dryly.
Sebastian laughed lightly and met my eyes
slightly bashfully.
“Got a
hug for your old friend?” he then asked, opening his arms out.
To be honest, I wasn’t
quite sure I’d heard correctly. But I then realised he hadn’t put
out his arms to fly, and decided I shouldn’t pass up what he seemed to be offering. I
smiled weakly and moved closer, and he put his arms around me. Something like
relief began bubbling in my heart as I realised that it meant I had not completely
lost my childhood friend, despite all that had happened in the eleven-year gap
since we had seen each other.
My
heart was thundering in my ears again as he pressed me up close, and I found
myself closing my eyes and giving a small sigh of relief as I leaned my head
against him. Even with the tick coat on, I also found out that body was
certainly not CGI special effects.
“You
know, you’re supposed to call your friends,” I said quietly into his chest. Sebastian
pulled away a little and looked down at me. He smiled and his charm had been
turned on to try and get himself out of trouble.
“I
really am sorry. I told you that,” he apologised again. He focused those intense
aquamarine eyes on mine imploringly. “Please forgive me.”
I
gave him my old Sebastian look and
snorted. “You know
that charm is not going to work on me.”.
“It never has,” he
answered pragmatically. That charming smile morphed into a pleased grin. “Worth
a shot, though, right?”
I
rolled my eyes. “Some things haven’t
changed.”
We
looked at each other for a moment, his grin to my wry stare. Sebastian broke it
after a few seconds, letting me go and started walking, with his arm immediately
going around my shoulders and drawing me both to him and with him, wherever he
was going.
“Look,” he
started again, with a sigh. “I know I should have called, but I really have been really busy, doing movie on movie. Good ones not to be
passed up. It’s really hard being in demand, you know.”
“I’ll
bet. It must be such a hard life.” I threw him a look of disbelief and shook
my head. “But then, I suppose you did all right for
yourself, really…”
I
looked up at him slyly as he pretended to be insulted by the nonchalance of the
sentence.
“Well,
I’m glad to be home now, to see my friends.”
“Friends
that you never called, wrote to, or even sent a postcard.”
Sebastian
shot me a pointed look. “Do you want me to grovel? I can do
grovelling, I’ve had lessons. I’ve
played grovelling before.”
I
snorted. “If you grovel, I want a genuine one.”
Sebastian squeezed my shoulders; I
assumed as a pathetic attempt as an apology.
“I
promise I’ll make it up to you. And anyway, it not
like you ever wrote to me.”
“I
didn’t know where you even lived, and it’s not like you go around publishing your
email address and phone number,” I snapped back irately, immediately
annoyed that he was trying to make out like it was my own fault and not his. “You can
write to me first. I’m not the one who left.”
The
words were out before I realised, surprising myself greatly at the sudden burst
of vehement anger that seemed to come from nowhere. Sebastian was immediately
hit by the vitriol in my tone and stopped dead, probably even more surprised
than I was, since I had never said even a really cross word to him the
whole time we had known each other.
I looked away as he pursed his lips and
rubbed his head, and it occurred to me that perhaps it was the first time he
had actually realised that I had cared a lot
about the fact he had absconded without a backwards glance. I inwardly groaned
at letting my feelings out and stared at the floor. Obviously, I had never told
him how much his leaving had hurt; I’d never had the chance. However,
neither had I admitted i was to
myself before now, meaning I left reeling by my own truth as much as he was.
Now, barely a few minutes after seeing him
again, it had come crashing out of me, and I felt guilty for it.
To
my utter surprise, Sebastian turned and pulled me into a bear-hug. Pressed up
against him, all I could do was continue to feel guilty and so remained quiet.
“I’m
sorry, you’re right,”
Sebastian said softly. “I got caught up in everything that was
there and was too busy having a good time to make any effort in keeping in
touch. And I should have made the effort. You were always my best friend, and I
didn’t bother trying, and I don’t
blame you for being mad at me.”
“I’m not
mad at you,” I mumbled into him.
Sebastian
pulled back and looked me directly in the eye. “Yes,
you are.”
“All
right, I was mad,” I
admitted. I pressed my hands against his sides, grasping his coat, and looked
up at him. “You were supposed to be my best friend and you hurt me when you never
bothered getting back in touch. You just seemed to clearly prefer to forget
about me and get on with your new life, but I was happy for your success, so I
decided that was more important. But I was, I am, hurt. You left – you did what you had to do to get the
success you have now, but you did not have to ghost me after.”
“It’s no
excuse, but it really did feel like there wasn’t
enough time to do the things that I should have done,”
Sebastian stated sincerely. “It was insane when we got there, never
enough time to catch your breath, even for a minute. By the time I had what I
felt like was at least some breathing space, I was too scared to write or try
and contact you. I’d left it too long.”
“You
called now, and it’s been even longer.” I
shrugged, tried to play off everything I felt as nonchalant. I struggled to
imagine anything scaring Sebastian,
let alone simply contacting me. He
was always confidence personified back then and most certainly was now.
“I was
right here - I wasn’t not taking a chance.”
Sebastian held my gaze fleetingly before glanced away and offered a self-deprecating
smile. “Was about the scariest thing I’ve
ever done, too.”
My
eyebrows nearly made it all the way up to the thick, overhead clouds. “To
contact me?”
“In
eleven years, anything could have
happened,” Sebastian replied, making sound as if it
were so obvious. “You could have left. Your parents could
have moved. Other.... things. So many possibilities went through my head, and
Kate pressed the call button before I’d even realised what she’d
done, because I was hesitating too much.”
I
felt a shocked jolt at the sound realisation that Kate Whittaker knew who I
was and had dialled my old home number for him.
“I’m
actually only here for my degree,” I let him know, trying to distract myself
from even thinking about her, and what he had just told me. “I’ll be
graduating by summer, then hopefully going back to London after. You’re
lucky you caught me.”
“London?
You were in London?”
“In
Camden, specifically.” Constantly having to talk myself out of
going to every big movie Premier he attended and living so very close to each
one.
“What
was in London?”
“My
life.” I shrugged. “I was
a computer geek, specialised in corporate databases and data analysis. But I
decided I really wanted to do a degree in English Literature and be a writer,
and I should do it sooner rather than later. I can easily go back once I’m
finished.”
“Wow,
that’s amazing.”
Sebastian smiled that smile at me again. “You really were always super-smart.”
“I
didn’t go and be a world-famous actor or
anything, but I did all right.” I offered a slight smirk to take the off
the jibe. He still met my eyes forlornly.
“Do you forgive me for that?”
Sebastian asked, sincerely. He looked down at me imploringly, and with some
shocked realisation, I realised we’d been holding onto each other our entire
conversation. “I will
make it up to you.”
I
looked back at him in quiet contemplation, keeping his gaze for a few moments. Then
I tried to smile as I decided I really had to try and let it go.
“If
you promise not to do it again, I will forgive you,” I told
him honestly.
“You
can have a definite deal there.” Sebastian returned the smile with clear
relief. He let then me go and offered me his arm instead. “Come
on then, let’s go and take a walk down memory lane.”
With
a side-smile of nostalgia, I slipped my arm through his – just
like we had back in our teenage days, and we wandered off to the miniscule
shopping area of Willowfall-by-Bough – which, in all honesty, hardly counted as a
shopping area at all. It was barely a few interconnecting streets with some
random high-street names and essential shops that together scraped together the
little town that there was. As teenagers, we had enjoyed hours of walking
arm-in-arm through the pathetic offering of shops and wandered around the
streets, just as we were now, whilst talking utter rubbish and enjoying finding
reasons not to do homework. The rest of the time Sebastian would be trying to convince
me to let him copy mine, so he wouldn’t get in trouble the next day for not
bothering with it.
After
years of doing everything together, it had come as a huge shock when I had
found myself suddenly alone, without my partner-in-crime. I had barely known
what to do with myself, but I was fortunate that Sally had been entirely dedicated
to helping me survive that first year without him, which was to be our last
year at school. After sitting our exams, we headed for the local college to sit
A-levels, to remove ourselves from the haunting shadows of the De Carr twins
and try to re-write ourselves a new existence without them.
Over a decade later, and here we were
again, in a strange déjà vu, recreating our past after both leaving and
returning to Willowfall again. We were doing what had done almost every day for
four years, and this time with a very big fundamental difference of being
successful professional adults and my companion being a worldwide megastar
celebrity.
This point was, unfortunately, driven home quite
clearly when Sebastian became the immediate talk of the town the moment we
walked onto the High Street. It was something so instantaneously obvious, I was
borderline cringing on their behalf as they gossiped and openly stared at the
real-life Hollywood star so inexplicably in their midst.
Walking
past the shops, I was really becoming increasingly aware of the open stares
of people as we passed them. It was getting to the point now where I was squirming
with self-consciousness and feeling inevitably judged on how we must have looked
together – making me wish all the more I had
refused to come out with him. Given I was hardly anywhere near his league, I
felt I had no place even walking alongside Sebastian, especially given I was in
my trusty old winter coat and multi-coloured fingerless gloves, unglamorous
long skirt, uncontrollably dishevelled and blown-about{ loose auburn hair,
half-grey and translucent complexion, and worn, scuffed, black Doc Marten boots
on my feet. I wasn’t even wearing any makeup.
The more they talked and stared, the more I
tended to want go and crawl in a hole until it was dark and I could sneak off
home, unseen.
The
worst offenders of the stares and sniggers were the teenage girls and young
women. I could clearly hear their whispered words and squeaks as they went past,
and I increasingly wished I had never answered that damned phone.
“Oh,
my God – that’s one
of the De Carr twins,” I heard someone say, in a loud stage-whisper.
“What’s he doing
here?”
“That’s him
from that film Flight 101!”
whispered another. “That’s Sebastian
De Carr. The Sebastian De Carr! Who’s that with him? Why is she with him? Does anyone know who she
is?”
Phones
were coming out. I heard camera snap sound effect noise enough times as we
wandered through. Phones being held up aloft, clearly filming. It was like a literal nightmare I’d
already had more than once, and I felt cold inside that I was actually having
to live through it, right now.
From
nowhere, I suddenly, felt my foot trap on something and I tripped and fell,
fortunately or not, right into Sebastian’s arms. Behind me, some snorted laughs and
somewhere there was a stupid giggle. I didn’t
need to watch it back on social media to know that, quite clearly, it had been
no accident.
“Are
you OK?” Sebastian immediately asked, looking down
with concern, whilst I quickly tried to right myself and back away from him.
“I’m
fine,” I muttered through tightly pursed lips,
trying to calm my rising anger and mortification at having being caught by him
like weak little damsel. At having to be that close to him.
I offered a grim smile as he helped me
properly back onto my feet. I also soon realised that he hadn’t let
me go and was still holding me up, hands on the top of my arms and holding on
firmly. Reddening, I pushed that thought away, because doing anything about it
would bring attention to it. Which would have been worse.
“What
the hell did I ever do to them?” I demanded hotly, breathing the words
under my breath, not even sure myself whether it was rhetorical or not. “In
all the years I’ve been here, I’ve
never been treated like that.”
My
old friend was still leaning forward into my personal space enough to hear me,
anyway, obviously looking far more intimate
than it was, which made me squirm, inside even more.
“Come
on, leave it, Lis,” he responded quietly in my ear. His
comforting tone turned darker when he added, “Don’t
rise to anything and ignore what they do. Trust me, there’s nothing else for it. It ends up so much
worse if you do anything else.”
I
dared meet his eyes at hearing that very unfamiliar tone from him. His
expression was set in a way I had barely seen before – not
outside of a playing a part on-screen.
Sebastian
moved to put his arm protectively around my shoulders and walked me away. I was
so annoyed by what had happened I almost didn’t
notice.
“You
are a hazard to my health, De Carr,” I grumbled, throwing him a glare. “And
you were saying before that girls didn’t like you. I think I beg to differ.”
“Obviously, here they’re
strange,” retorted Sebastian, and I rolled my eyes
at his theatrics. “Oh, here, let’s go
in to see this.”
He
propelled me into a retro-style music shop that sold vinyl records and CDs of
just about anything, and went to see the new releases on the shelves. Sebastian
looked through the CDs with interest, whilst I glumly stood next to him trying
not to be bored.
“Hey,
look, they have the soundtrack from Flight
101,” he suddenly announced, shoving it unceremoniously
in my face. I took it from him and rolled my eyes. I did not need to be
reminded exactly why I was getting the
Stupid Treatment and being tripped up in the street for social media giggles.
“Ugh!
Look at me there,” Sebastian complained, looking at the CD
cover over my shoulder. “Why do they always pick the really stupid pictures
to go on these things?”
I
raised an eyebrow. “I’ll bet you don’t think
Caspian looks all that bad”
“That’s Caspian, though,”
Sebastian muttered. “He looks fine.”
I
couldn’t help me giving a short laugh, and
Sebastian’s face looked rather bemused.
“What?” he
demanded.
“I don’t
know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you and Caspian
are actually identical twins,” I
remarked dryly. “I know you’re
not the sharpest knife in the draw, but you should at least work out that if
Caspian looks good then you’re bound to so you look exactly the same?”
Sebastian
shrugged and made a face. “That still doesn’t
mean I have to like these photographs.”
I
shook my head in amusement. “So, I take it you don’t
like any photographs of yourself?”
Sebastian
shook his head and I couldn’t help but wonder how one of the most
photographed people in the world could
hate pictures of themselves. I rolled my eyes at him, and he wandered off to
find something he actually wanted to buy.
When
he finally went to pay for his things, the woman on the counter gave Sebastian
a hard look and could barely take her eyes off him. Sebastian fidgeted uncomfortably
as she beeped through the barcodes and he almost had to snatch his hand away
from hers as they lingered for longer than necessary when physical money exchanged
hands. I tried to smile sympathetically as I waited for him to finish, then we
left the shop to look around some others.
“I
realise part of the positives of living in LA now is not just the weather,” he
muttered quietly to me after he escaped the cashier. “Nobody
there bats an eyelid at you.”
“Well,
you’re not in LA anymore, Toto,” I
retorted with a grimace. “I did
try to warn you.”
“I
suppose it’s not just the shops that have changed here
in ten years.”
“No,” I
said quietly, looking at him pointedly. “The people change, too.”
Sebastian
looked back at me. “I may have been away for a while and got an
interesting and high-profile job, but
I have not changed, my dear.”
No.
No he actually hadn’t, and for a little while, even after all
this time, it really felt like I had my old friend back, like he had never been
away, and I was very happy. It was something I thought that I would never experience
again. But the surreal quality of it was something that was not lost on me – it
may have felt like we had somehow travelled back in time, but the reality was
that we weren’t fifteen anymore and he was no longer “just”
Sebastian. The truth was that I had to accept the fact was the more I was with
him in public, the more I’d being “that mystery girl with celebrity icon and home-grown
Hollywood star, Sebastian De Carr.”
I was really beginning to wish I could just go
home and hide away in my iPad and computer, and return to the mundane normality
of my life, where Sebastian was more of a sad memory and not a hot megastar wandering
Willowfall High Street instead of Rodeo
Drive or 5th Avenue. However,
when we started wandering off towards home, I had to admit to the overwhelming
feeling of disappointment that my time with him was actually over.
We
arrived at our corner where we had always parted ways, the same as we had over a
decade ago, almost every day for over four years, and stopped to say goodbye out
sheer habit, before really realising we had even actually done it.
“I’ll
see you again sometime then,” Sebastian murmured quietly, offering a
weak smile. “Thanks again for coming with me. It was fun
doing this again.”
I
managed a smile of , and nodded, feeling a little awkward and saddened we were now
parting. Heaven knew if, or when, I would see him again now. At least I knew
now my old friend really was still my
friend, and that we’d managed to carry on where we’d
left off so quickly buoyed me, soothing a decade of hurt I’d
experienced since he’d left. Now my life could just go back to
ticking along as usual, and maybe that Thesis could finally get finished.
“OK
then.” I tried to sound nonchalant. I probably
failed, though. Only one of us had an army of Golden Globes and three Oscar
Nominations in their résumé, after all. “I’ll
see you around.”
I
shrugged and stuffed gloved hands in coat pockets, staring at the floor as I
turned to leave.
“Lisa?”
Sebastian’s uncertain
voice halted my action and I turned back to him with some surprise. I had
expected him to turn on his heel and walk away very quickly, with nothing but
regrets that he had asked to see me again. I met his eyes and he tried to offer
something that may or may not have been a smile.
“Would
you like to come and keep me company tomorrow?” he
asked, looking back with what could have been some hopeful uncertainty. “Everybody’s
going out and leaving me alone. We could catch up on stuff.”
I
cocked my head and raised my eyebrows curiously. Pushing away hair that was
blowing into my eyes, I tried not to look completely floored at the request.
“Why aren’t you
going?” I managed to ask, after I momentarily lost
my voice to shock.
“They’re
going to see Flight 101 and I really don’t
want to see it again.”
“Why
are they seeing it again?”
Sebastian
smiled. “So Mum and Dad can watch it.”
“Is Caspian
going?”
“Yes.”
Sebastian shrugged. “So, it’s just me on my own tomorrow. I didn’t
want to be home alone and bored if I didn’t have to be.”
“What
about Kate?”
I
had to ask.
“She’s
going with them.” Sebastian shrugged. “She
actually hasn’t seen it yet. She has so far refused to
actually sit through any of the premiers, because she doesn’t
want to hear what the audience has to say about it quite literally behind her
back. She never sits through any of her premiers, it seems.”
I
considered his request, pausing for a few moments to wonder what exactly I
would get myself into if I agreed to it. The likelihood was I was setting
myself up for more unrequited heartache with this man, and that wasn’t an
option – not now. On the other hand, I couldn’t
bring myself to turn my back on my old best friend, and his friendship had
always meant more to me than anything else. Eventually, it was loyalty that won
the argument in my head.
“All
right, then,” I reluctantly replied. “I’ll
come round tomorrow to keep poor little you company so you don’t get
all lonely on your own.”
There
was a slight half-second pause before Sebastian blinked. His eyes bore into
mine with some surprise.
“Really?
That’s great,” he smiled.
“They’ll be going out about eleven, so anytime
will be fine.”
About
a second later, that realisation of what I had just agreed to sank back in
again.
You’re
going to Sebastian De Carr’s house alone all day, my mind started immediately screaming at me. And you’ll
have to take your work, or that will never get in on time… It
really is like nothing’s changed. And he’ll
think you’re such an idiot… What
are you doing?
I
was smiling sweetly at him, forcing the mask whilst these thoughts raced
through my mind and panicked wildly.
“Fine,
then… Fine,” I mumbled, the panic monologue inside my
head carrying on by itself. “Right. Well, I’ll
see you tomorrow.”
After
saying goodbye, I walked home in almost a daze. My head was spinning as I
walked back home, still unable to quite believe that just like that I had
Sebastian back in my life after so long and I was less than twenty-four hours
away from spending a few hours home alone with him. The reality was that many
thousands of women and teenage girls would love to be in my shoes at that
prospect also swam within my head, and that was something I was very
uncomfortable with. Once again, I was back to realising he wasn’t the
same Sebastian as he had been before, when all I wanted was my old friend back
exactly how he was.
There was also the fact that it made me feel
worse, knowing that I would never get what I really wanted from him, and
spending more time with him would just probably end up breaking my heart more
each day I was with him. After all, that had been the original plans to meeting
up today. And perhaps at fifteen I could manage those feelings, but not now. I
was no longer a naïve child – I
was a grown woman and, unfortunately, one that was still pathetically in love,
and there was nothing I could do about that except be utterly miserable and
accept my fate to be and old, pining spinster. There also was no way of moving
on if he was in my life – after over fifteen years of yearning after
him, there was no way I would even look at anyone else as long as he was
around. Or maybe just ever.
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