To my relief, everyone, including Leo, was fine.
After he was examined by medical personnel, he was recommended to rest for the remainder of the day and to be monitored by Omar in case Leo displayed any alarming symptoms that would need him to be sent to the hospital. Leo claimed that it would be unnecessary, but judging by the rasp in his throat and obvious discomfort, Omar and I kept our observant skepticism.
Aside from him, in total, there were at least 4 other casualties: his stunt double, two extras, and lastly, Mitchell Sithe.
Embarrassingly enough, he ended up with a twisted ankle and a bloody nose. Not broken. Just bloody from when I swung at his face. He lied and told everyone that he got injured with his board while he was in the waves, leaving out any details of when I fished him out of the water and how he could've been the reason Leo would've likely died if I didn't jump back in.
In a way, it felt like a silent truce, given that if he did tell them, they would've had me punished for my physical altercation with staff and sent me out with Celise. Doesn't matter if it is for self-defense or not; according to the forms I have signed, it made it evident that the stars of the show hold more status and priority than guests and extras.
Yup, sounds like classic show business.
"Alright, everyone." Director Jimenez clears his throat as we re-group. "We will continue to film what we can on the shore, and a few of our night scenes, but we will not be filming anything with the waves. I repeat, we will not film with the waves."
Director Jimenez then explains that the surfing shots that Leo, Mitch, and Noah did not film will instead be done by their stunt doubles the next day, while everyone proceeds with the next scene to maintain the pace of the schedule. Tomorrow we are supposed to pack our things and move to the next location, where we will hike and film under a waterfall.
"Before we proceed, I want to take this moment to please give a round of applause to Stephanie for saving our dear Leonardo." He raises his hands in the air and claps them loudly for everyone to follow.
"You were so cool and brave for that, Stephanie." Delaware pats my shoulder, and Noah offers a high five. Georgia, attempting to be supportive in the eyes of the director, gives me a grimaced smile with perked corners of sheer disgust.
I try not to turn over to Leo, as there was enough awkwardness between us. He constantly avoided eye contact, and when we resumed filming on the shore, he would use every excuse to talk to everyone but me. If I didn't know any better, that man did not want me to save him.
"Omar, what is his deal?" I whisper into his ear as the cast films the last of the night scene. It starts off with all five of them discovering a trail of blood leading into the sea, and beneath a pile of wet sand by the shoreline is the murderer's weapon. The remainder of the scene is similar to that of Scooby Doo as they figure out a plan to discover who the killer is, and potentially the next victim. The main suspect is Leo's character, as in episode one, he had been framed for the first murder at West Coast University, but was eventually found not guilty.
This episode is designed to demonstrate to the audience that the killer is closer to them than they think, and to heighten suspense as it will be the first kill to occur outside of their University.
"I'm not sure," he replies, checking the time on his watch. They should be ending soon. "But I can ask him once he's done."
"No, it's fine." I dismissively wave my hand in the air and cover my mouth with the other to suppress a yawn. "I'll talk to him eventually. It's probably better if I don't do it tired. I'll be heading to the shuttles if you need me." I adjust the straps on my backpack and shake off the excess sand on it. I take out my phone and answer the handful of messages my brother and Beth had sent me, while I make my way to the designated area where the shuttles had picked us up. I recognize the driver and sit in my seat by the window.
I pull out my tablet and read an e-book I had downloaded ahead of time. Ironically, it was the sequel to the fantasy novel "Realms". I didn't realize I had fallen asleep halfway through the story until I felt a broad shoulder of a 6-foot man with the scent of a strong citrus cologne beside me.
I jolted right awake and was met with an apologetic Omar. "Sorry to wake you, Stephanie." He says in a soft whisper, trying to get me back to sleep, but I had already been shaken up.
"It's okay. Where's Leo?" I ask, rubbing my eyes, adjusting to the bus's harsh fluorescent lighting. They immediately blinked open when I felt a sense of hesitation in Omar's words.
"He's sitting with Georgia… the director wanted them to rehearse ahead of time and work on their 'chemistry' for the waterfall scene tomorrow." He quotes chemistry with his fingers, and followed it with a dash of sarcasm.
As he was telling me, my head turned across from where we were sitting, and there they were laughing about something Georgia had said. They waved their script in the air, and behind them were Delaware and Noah, doing the same. Mitch slept in the row behind Omar and me, drowsy from the painkillers he had taken. I thought I was bad, but he was completely out of it.
"Omar, be honest with me," I shift my gaze in his direction before Leo notices me staring at them. "Is the waterfall scene a kissing scene?" My words came out as what I hope sounded groggy to him.
He turns to me and slowly nods his head. I tell myself that it's fine, sulking further in my seat with my head against the window, trying to get a hold of my emotions. I questioned why I'm like this and how I will react with him tomorrow when they film.
As I slouch, I slip a sour candy in my mouth and mentally remind myself of the situation as though it were a new mantra. It doesn't matter how close we've gotten these last few months; this arrangement isn't real, and I have no right to act this way when I have disdained Leo up until we made up our contract.
This relationship is fake.
I hated Leonardo Ramero Vasquez.
No.
Not hated, hate. I hate Leonardo Ramero Vasquez.
Here I am, being a chess piece in a bigger game than I wanted to play. I'm sick of it. I thought I would be done with him by now. I told myself I wouldn't be affiliated with him, yet here I am being the biggest idiot on the planet. God, I sacrificed my steady career, and he gained from it. I lost, and he somehow won. He won again, and I am tired, stressed, and I can't believe I'm even thinking about him because I—
"Stephanie?" Omar taps my shoulder. I remove my headphones and place them on top of my shoulders. "Do you want some?" he offers me a spare bag of barbecue potato chips that he hid in his pocket.
"Thank you," I say to Omar, taking the bag from him.
We eat our potato chips and talk about small things outside of Leonardo. To my pleasant surprise, Omar and I had similar tastes. We both were obsessed with music, specifically pop, and were the eldest children in our families. We resonated on the weight it put on ourselves at a young age, thus leading to ramifications we experience in the future.
I have to admit, he was the highlight of this entire day, given everything that has happened. I almost forgot how frustrated I was at Leo until we finally arrived at the hotel parking lot, and I spotted Georgia's head on his shoulder with her eyes shut and his head on top of hers.
There was something about seeing them so comfortable and cozy together that made it feel as though all those protests Leonardo had towards the woman were nothing but bullshit.
What if he was using me to get her? A not-so-pleasant thought slithers through my mind, escalating a flood of several not-so-good voices.
It made me feel icky and felt almost too real, as I knew this rapport we had built was too good to be true.
He must be lying about Georgia.
That's why he brought me here. Not to use me as a fake date to get her away, but rather attract her.
It's why he was so uncomfortable with the idea of me saving him, when it should've her who he saw when he opened his eyes.
Yes, that's what's happening. The small evil voice persists like the devil, while my reasonable angel side tells me to call down and get the fuck out of this bus before I start making terrible life decisions.
As soon as all four wheels hit the pavement and the driver unlatched the door, I decided it was time to make my escape. It was either that or yielding to the innermost desires of ripping Georgia off of Leonardo while also lashing out at him.
Yeah no.
Let's not do that because I am tired, hungry, and delirious. I would rather let myself blow off some steam in my room than let it out inside this bus.
Without hesitation, I jumped over Omar, to which he asked what was wrong. I don't give him a moment to answer, and instead, quickly run out of the bus while the exit doors are wide open, knowing that the fluorescent lights that turned on would wake everyone up.
I was half- right as at the same time, Leonardo hears this commotion and bumps into Omar as he abruptly gets out of his seat. He scans the shuttle, disoriented from his nap, trying to find me, but by then, I was already inside the lobby, entering a fresh pair of elevator doors.
He tries to catch up to me, but I was quick with my timing as I held my shaky finger over the elevator button that sped up the process to shut the metal doors.
"Come on," I say under my breath, watching him run over to where I am.
So close.
Come on.
Almost there.
"Estrella," his echo travels through the center of the lobby and seeks refuge in the elevator as it takes me to the fifth floor. It took me a minute to come out of my shock as I gripped the handle beside the lit-up buttons.
1
2
3
4
And then came my floor.
I cautiously stepped out, feeling this tightness around my throat. I scan the opening to see if, by some bizarre reason, he caught the next elevator and made it to the floor first.
The second I realize the coast is clear, I race over to my room and lock myself inside the bathroom before Delaware comes to the room. I blast music from my playlist and hop into the shower to disguise anything that might give away my emotions, for if Delaware arrives, nothing would seem out of the ordinary. I would scrub myself to the bone and put on another face, where everything is 'fine,' and if she asked what happened, I would say that I simply needed access to my room to pack for tomorrow.
Yes, that would be my excuse.
It's just one of those skills you learn as a Latina with strict parents, so you can avoid them asking you "¿Que Te Pasó?" and give you something else to cry about.
Pretending was my talent.
Midway through my deep clean shower, as I sang out to "Is It Over Now" by Taylor Swift, I detected a gentle knock on the bathroom door, followed by Delaware's voice announcing that she was here and would start to get ready.
I yell over the sound to let her know that I am aware, and wash out what possibly is the 10th layer of body wash, and the 2nd layer of conditioner that I brought specifically to manage my hair type.
I stop the water, and as I dry myself, I pause my blaring music. The silence of it all was lethal as it amplified the replay of the last several hours in my brain.
How on earth did it all escalate so quickly? It's only been one day.
I raised my finger over my lips to apply a lip mask, and in that instant, I became aware that my lips had touched Leonardo's.
My cheeks immediately flushed, and I applied the remainder of my skincare to cool them down. I felt stupid thinking about that because my intention was never to lock lips with him; it was to save him. Yet, I couldn't shake the sensation off.
Would I count it as my first?
I never kissed anyone despite having a boyfriend in high school, as intimacy was extremely difficult with me.
It still is.
I avoided touch like the plague because with every stroke, pat, or even hug, the sensation of suffocation and pricks of pine needles would escalate and spread throughout my body. Very rarely would I enjoy touch despite craving it as wildly as the leaves do the wind in the fall.
This no one technically knew about.
Beth had a hunch as I told her that I wasn't really a physical or touchy person, and she respected it completely with no questions asked. If she were really excited or wanted to celebrate, she would ask if she could hug me. I appreciate the gesture more times than I could count.
Yet, the one time on the plane or the night of the event in Hollywood was not as bad as I anticipated, almost pleasant, and soft. It was patient with a hint of a lingering temptation for something more.
"Stephanie, are you okay in there?" I hear a hint of a growing worry in her voice, as though she had her face towards the door and her hand on the doorknob.
I quickly put my stuff away and opened the door with a half-fresh new attitude. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Her face brightens a little, but the crease near her forehead tells me the rest. "Okay," she grabs a few of her items as she too wanted to take a shower after me. "But if you need anything, I am here for you. Really. This industry can mess with your head if you're not careful."
I guess I didn't hide myself well as I would've liked.
"I will," I say, and together our heads turn at a vigorous knock at the door. Delaware thankfully still had yet to change out of her clothes, and together we walked closer to the door. From girl to girl, anyone knocking at this hour is hella scary, especially when neither of us ordered room service and aren't expecting anyone.
The knock grows louder, and the voice of an egotistical rockstar says, "Stephanie, I need to talk to you."
Who doesn't? Is what I want to say through the door.
Delaware immediately frowns and suggests that we ignore him, but with all the knocking and yelling he was doing, I figured it would be better if I told him off in person. Right before she enters the shower, she tells me to lock the door behind me if I end up chatting with him or Leonardo, as she knows that Leo and I would always have our nightly talks and have yet to miss one.
Though something tells me, tonight might be the first.
"Pipe down," I grumble, opening the door and meeting him in the hallway. I make sure to hear it click for Delaware's sake. "Someone will hear you!"
"I want to talk to you."
"And I don't want to talk to you, Mitch."
He flinches when I don't say his name fully, as it feels like a cord that once held respect has been cut.
"Hear me out, Stephanie. It's the least you can do after you almost broke my nose."
"Because you tried to stop me from saving Leo." I correct him, deepening my frown and crossing my arms over my chest.
"And that's why I have come here tonight. I want to apologize to you for acting like such a dick," he sighs, dropping his head with self-loathing and immediate disappointment. "I just didn't want you to get hurt."
"Mitch, go to bed." I raise one of my hands from my elbow and raise it to the temple of my head.
I want to sleep already. If this day goes any longer, I might just book myself an overnight flight and take my chances at the airport.
"Listen, normally, I try not care about what other people think about me. In fact, it's why I came here. I care what you think, Stephanie. When you told me about my old music-."
"Please don't do this right now," I immediately stop him before this conversation heads in a direction I think it's going. "I'm telling you one last time. My head hurts, and I want to go to bed. Leave Mitch."
"Five more minutes," he pleads.
"She said to go to bed, Mitch." his familiar voice thunders down the hall, sending shivers through my spine, causing the hairs on my arms to rise. "And get the fuck away from my girlfriend."
Never had I seen him this angry in all the years I have known him. Not once.
Mitch is about to get his ass delivered to him if he doesn't leave now.