7. Aaron
SEVEN
AARON
“Cut!” The director’s voice breaks through my concentration on staying in character and I let the mask fall, allowing Aaron to break through again now that he says we're done for the day.
A hand slaps my back in congratulations at nailing the scene in one take, earning us the early quitting time, and I smile at the crew members who have crowded around me as they take back the equipment and props they need, leaving me to head back to my trailer and get out of wardrobe and back into street clothes in relative peace and quiet.
My eyes scan the set for Gem; she’s usually on standby with my cell, a protein smoothie and updates for me on where the rest of my life stands. I find her against the far wall with Alex, assistant to the gods and lifesaver of this whole damn show. She hasn’t started coming my way, so I make my way over to her and try not to grumble internally about the inconvenience, because this is probably the first time it’s ever happened, and I don’t need to be a total prick about it. See? Famous people. They really are just like us.
Their conversation comes to a rapid close as I approach, and she hands me my smoothie when I’m close enough to take it from her.
A mouthful deep and she passes me my phone while saying, “Your girlfriend says you can try anal tonight.” I’m coughing, spluttering, and green stuff is coming out of my nose by the time I realize that’s not really a text I got while I was filming, but the damage has already been done. Gemma and Alex are absolutely cracking up while I attempt to remove goop from my nostrils.
Gemma is wiping tears from her eyes as Alex holds her stomach, her head still thrown back, both of them still. Fucking. Laughing. “Oh, you shoulda seen your face, kid. Priceless. If last night didn’t get you in the back door, I dunno what will, Stone.”
“What happened last night?” Alex asks, attempting to sober up, but I can see wetness in her gleaming chocolate eyes.
“He let his girlfriend beat him at mini golf. He scored, like, double what he usually does.” She singsongs the word girlfriend like we’re in eighth grade again.
“And?” Alex asks. “Did it pay off?”
I shoot them both a dirty look, but can’t help the smirk that comes out after a second or two, and I know they know it did. I am super competitive, and there’s not much in this world I’d trade winning for. Last night might’ve been an exception. Worth it. Well, mostly.
“Ugh,” Gemma scoffs, kicking off the wall she’s been leaning on and starting to walk away. “I don’t wanna hear about it.” She waves a hand over her head as she walks away, whether in dismissal or disgust, I can’t quite tell.
Alex’s eyes trail her retreating form for a moment before she looks back at me.
“So,” she starts off. “Romania, huh?”
“You heard?”
“Gemma told me.”
My eyes drop to the floor, where I kick the ground for a second before getting back to her.
“Yeah. It’s a small indie flick, but it’s giving me a chance to showcase something I never have before.”
“I’m happy for you,” she says, and it sounds like she means it. “You’ll be back before season five kicks off, obviously?”
“Way before. I’ll be back in late August,” I confirm. Midnight Empire is contractual obligation numero uno for me.
She shakes her head at me. “You and your summer projects. Can’t just take a break like most of the cast, can you?”
“At this point in my career?” I scoff. “That’d be suicide. I gotta max out every chance I have until I can take a break without it ruining my momentum. Gimme five more years.” I shoot her a grin that wins over most casting directors.
“Can I ask you something else?” Her voice is almost wary, and I arch my brows, feeling the need to defend myself already.
“Shoot,” I tell her.
“You gonna be okay with Gemma dating?” Thank God I hadn’t taken another sip of smoothie, because my nasal cavity couldn’t handle another infiltration like before. Instead, my eyes widen and I look around for something else we can discuss. Anything else. Because what the fuck .
“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I be?” Recovered. Hardly even noticed the panic in my tone. So smooth.
We start walking across set toward the various dressing rooms and the exit to the trailers, and she answers, “Because she never really has before.”
“Yeah she has,” I start. “There was Eduardo?—”
A flat look from Alex has me stopped in my tracks.
“What?” I ask her.
Somehow her expression alone intensifies to the point I feel like a fucking idiot, and I backtrack. “I mean, she dated Eduardo a while back.”
“Sure,” Alex humors me.
“Wait.” A thought hits me. “Why are you asking me this?”
I’ll never understand how someone can communicate so much with so few words, but Alex has a way with her face that simply no one else does. It’s probably the super power she uses to keep our shoots running on time, under budget and on schedule. I am one hundred percent positive our producers and directors would all be absolutely miserable without her. A look or two from Alex and all of us, whether cast, crew, or randos, we snap the fuck to. The girl is magic, I dunno what to say.
So when she looks at me like that , I realize she’s telling me more than I’ve understood and it hits me.
Gemma is seeing someone.
And I didn’t know.
“Who—” I clear my throat and try again. “Who is she dating?” Why my voice sounds like gravel and ice, ask me later. No time to ponder that now. She told Kayla no just last night. She lied?
“Spencer Schafer.”
“The prop guy?” My voice definitely just shot up an octave. But what, am I just supposed to be okay with some random guy who’s probably just using her for sex? Has she even vetted him? What’s his background? What are his skeletons? I harbor serious doubts that he’s good enough for her, and my suspicion must be showing through my single question because the look I get back…it tells me a lot.
“Yes, Aaron. The prop guy.” Her dryness would even be enviable to Roy freaking Kent, but I’m not feeling charitable right now. I’m fucking pissed that everyone has kept this from me. How long has this been going on? Is this the guy she thought I was when we were on the couch the other morning?
“Since when?” I think that came out as a screech.
“Their first date is on Saturday, actually, if it’s even your business.”
“Of course it’s my business! She’s my best friend.”
“Is that why you waited almost two months to tell her about Kayla?”
I don’t ask how she knows about Kayla. Gem has obviously been confiding in Alex instead of me lately. And now Alex knows she has me cornered, but she doesn’t wait for me to answer her.
“Look. She’s a good girl, he’s a good guy. She deserves some happiness, to focus on her own life and not just be wrapped up in Aaron’s World twenty-four-seven. Don’t fuck this up for her. Let her try to have a good time for once.”
“A good time? Is that what he thinks she is?” The accusation in my voice rumbles out, clear as day, and I see a couple of stray crew members scurry away from me out of my periphery. I’m surprised I can see anything at all outside of the sheer red taking over my vision right now. I don’t even care what I look like, but it must be a sight with the way they are fleeing the scene.
She pauses mid-step to roll her eyes and toss her head back, that wavy black hair flowing behind her as she does. She’s not gonna distract me with her beauty right now. Not that she would. I’m beyond positive I’m not her type. But she’s the kind of understated gorgeous that could be any guy’s type. And I’ve seen her use it to her advantage. Not gonna work on me today though. She snaps her gaze back on me, and we resume our walk toward the trailers.
“He’s a good guy, Aaron. Let it be.”
“How the fuck do you know?”
“Do you think I would’ve set her up with him if he wasn’t?”
Wait a damn minute.
“YOU fucking set them up?”
She throws her hands up in the air and then puts them on her hips, popping one out as she stops walking once again to glare at me.
“Make up your mind, Aaron.”
“Huh?”
“Do you want her with a good guy? Some random guy? Or with you?”
My stomach flies into my throat, and I can’t get the denial out fast enough. “Obviously I don’t want her to be with me, or some random schmuck who’s using her. But who is this guy? Beyond props? How do we know he’s going to be good for her? What’s his deal?”
“Have you met Spencer?”
My defensiveness is fully locked in place, now. “No, but half of this crew was on the last show y’all did together and I’ve definitely heard him mentioned a bunch.”
“You’ve probably heard that he’s insane with prop design, he is as resourceful as it comes and can make anything look realistic on-screen, even with no advance warning. How he’s sincerely every prop director he’s ever worked with’s favorite person. He’s also sweet, genuinely hilarious, and you may even have heard that he’s good in bed.”
The good news is my stomach is no longer in my throat. The bad news is, it’s now in my asshole.
She continues without batting an eyelash. “It’s all true.”
“Isn’t he old ?” It’s all I can come up with in response, and even I know it sounds weak.
Her scoff is borderline condescending and I have to remind myself she’s not someone I want to piss off on this set. I physically bite my tongue to keep from going off any more on the subject, and try to take this time to analyze why the fuck I even care.
Shouldn’t I be happy she’s going to date someone decent? As her friend, aren’t I supposed to cheer her on when good things are happening to her?
This visceral response inside me is anything but happy for her, and I need to cool my shit before I pull a dick move on Gem next time I see her.
Speaking of, where did she go? I need to know what’s going on with the film schedule, my upcoming travel, the other offer I was waiting on for another project for the year after next, and some errands she was getting done for me.
“He’s twenty-eight.” Before I can formulate anything offensive she speaks again. “Just like me .”
Ugh . I hate when I can’t win with these two. I finally glance at my phone to see what I missed while we were filming and see that I have a string of messages from Kayla, now that I’ve given her the green light to text me freely since our relationship is no longer on the DL. Messages which Gemma surely saw, considering she knows my password and handles two thirds of what comes into my phone for me.
Kayla ??:
Hey sexy ??
Did you talk to her?
Will you let me know when it’s done?
Great. No chance she didn’t see that, and I’m sure she has questions. There’s only one her Kayla would be texting me about, and we all know it. Apparently I need to talk to Kayla even more about Gem, but it’s hard to explain how interconnected we are without giving the wrong idea. We’re together all day most days, she’s who I depend on for so many things in my life, like my food, shopping, venting, relaxation, and even my business decisions.
Would Kayla understand that Gem has had a key to my place since I got it? That as my assistant, she holds my phone for me over half the day and she answers most of my texts and emails for me? That she orders everything I buy, including my furniture, underwear, and even sometimes gifts for the girls I see? I realize that our relationship would look inappropriately close to most, but it’s just that we’ve shared everything in life since we were about thirteen, and that’s never going to change. At least I hope not. She’s the only one I trust with anything personal in my life.
Forcing some distance in between us now, starting with getting the key back from her, is probably necessary to keeping a healthy relationship with my girlfriend and my friend-slash-assistant as we evolve and age. But I don’t want Gem to think I don’t want her in my life. I just need to balance keeping them both in my life.
Alex has already dismissed me, seeing me engrossed in my phone, and I exit the building and head into my trailer, deep in thought. I know relationships—especially in my line of work—aren’t always easy . There’s probably not a girl out there who wouldn’t feel insecure about how much time Gem and I spend together, how close we are. It’s probably only fair to my girlfriend that I make more changes on that front, right?
I open the trailer door to find Gemma sitting on the couch, her feet propped on the coffee table. When she hears the door swing open and sees the shafts of sunlight come into the small, artificially lit space, her eyes meet mine and I know. She knows exactly what Kayla was asking for with those texts.
She reaches into her pocket without saying a word and pulls the single key out, clearly having already removed it from her key ring. Her eyes never leave mine as she slaps it down on the coffee table in front of her with a flat hand, before she stands and makes to get out of the trailer.
“Gem,” I say softly.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says quietly, her throat sounding slightly obstructed.
Her head faces the ground and we both don’t have words for what this means for us. The divide this is creating between the bond we’ve shared since I got to Atlanta. Since I started this life.
I clear my throat and try again. “This doesn’t change anything.”
A sad, almost sarcastic half smile appears on her face, and she looks back to me. “Everything is changing.” She sounds so sure, yet so quiet, chills break out along my arms. “But it’s okay. It’s for the best.” Her hollow tone doesn’t do much to convince me there’s any truth in either of those last statements.
Her eyes meet mine again, and she gives me a little elbow bump in greeting as she walks by and out the door. Like she’s trying to reassure me . And for some reason, I feel like the next time she walks through there, everything really will be different. And I don’t like the way that feels one bit.