Chapter 5
14 weeks later
“How the fuckdid you let this happen, Aires?” My father slammed another dumpster fire article about me on the table in front of him.
All hell broke loose these last couple of months since I was arrested for possession of an illegal substance. In order to avoid jail time, his lawyers were able to work out a plea deal where I was court ordered to a ninety-day rehab stint, a shit ton of hours in community service, and mainly paying out hundreds of thousands in fees that my old man would hold over my head for eternity.
News spread like wildfire in a forest, and there was no hiding from it. It was all over social media, and the press ate me alive, basically burning me at the stake. The last three months were a giant blur of NA meetings and therapy. Although my treatment center was the best money could buy. It was essentially a high-end resort where I played tennis and hit the gym like a madman.
It was still painful to be somewhere I didn’t need to be.
My agent, Thomas, held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. “I’m handling it.”
“You’re handling it?” I scoffed out in a snide breath. “If you were handling it, then I wouldn’t be on the front cover of every magazine with the headline ‘SPIRALING’ in big, bold lettering!”
“Don’t yell at him, Aires.”
My old man brought my attention over to him.
“It’s not his fault you’re a fuckup.”
I leaned back into my chair. “Sticks and stones, Dad.”
We were in his office, sitting at the long rectangular table in the center of the massive and lavish space.
“If you’re bed-hopping ways weren’t enough of an eyesore, now we’re dealing with you being labeled a drug addict.”
“I told you, it’s bullshit.”
“It’s bullshit they found you with five illegal pills? Is that bullshit? Because the invoices from me having to save your ass yet again haven’t stopped since I paid your bail to get you out of jail.”
“I told you I’d pay for it.”
“So it looks like your family doesn’t care about you?”
“That’s right.” I viciously nodded. “I forgot what matters to you is what strangers think.”
“Aires… do not give me your woe-is-me bullshit. Do you have any idea how lucky you’ve had it? How many people would kill to be born with your life of privilege?”
It was the same speech every time.
Glaring at my agent, I chimed in, “Why are you standing there with your dick tucked between your legs? You should be out there doing damage control.”
Thomas sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m trying.” He inhaled another deep breath before dropping his hand to look at me. “Whether it was today or two weeks from now, the headlines will change. We’ve discussed this several times. These reports shouldn’t have come as a shock to you.”
He was right. It’d take time to soften the blow of how the press was treating me.
“You need to relax, alright? I’m handling it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been caught in a scandal, Aires, and we both damn well know this isn’t going to be the last.”
I shook my head, narrowing my eyes at him. “I can’t help the fact that women love to make up stories about me to the media.”
“Well…” Thomas adamantly nodded. “Maybe if you stopped fucking them over, they wouldn’t have a reason to make up stories about you. I know, crazy concept and all.”
“Or maybe”—I nodded at him, fully aware of where he was going with this— “if they stopped thinking they could change me, it wouldn’t feel that way to them. I make no secrets of who I am, Thomas.”
“I’m just saying it’d be great if you kept your dick in your pants for once.”
I shrugged. “I don’t pay you to have an opinion on where I thrust my cock.”
Dad cleared his throat, interrupting. “Let’s make something perfectly clear, Aires. We don’t give a rat’s ass where you stick your dick as long as you don’t get caught with your hands in the cookie jar.”
“How many times do I have to apologize to you?”
“As many times as it takes for it to stick in your thick skull. The women are petty scandals. If the press wants to talk about your bed-hopping ways to sell magazines, then so be it. This”—he lifted the article—“is attacking your character and credibility, and that’s the narrative on every single cover story.”
“They’re going to write what gives them sales, Dad. At the end of the day, drama makes money. I know that, and so do you. I’ll fix it, okay? Don’t I always?” Shifting my glare to Thomas, I asked, “What do you have for me?”
In whatever way, shape, or form, he always came through with the best contracts, the best contacts, the best of the best. He fought for me and with me, being my biggest ally since he’d become my agent at the start of my career.
No matter the situation, I knew he always had my best interest at heart. The press didn’t mind their own damn business on a normal day, let alone on an occasion like now, when all eyes were on me more than ever.
Reporters talked shit and ran their mouths, saying this was the end of my career, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. I had more money than I knew what to do with, so I could retire if I wanted to. This had nothing to do with money and everything to do with the fact that I could come back from this.
I’d prove everyone wrong.
“Now you’re talking my language,” Thomas informed.
Before I could ask him to elaborate, the familiar sound of dress shoes connecting on the hardwood floor shifted my eyes over to the office door. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by seeing the renowned movie director B. Night walking into the room.
I cocked my head to the side, confused.
“Aires, I’d like to introduce you to?—”
I stood. “I know who he is.” Walking over to him, I shook his hand.
B. Night greeted, “Pleased to meet you, Aires.”
We shook hands.
“Likewise.”
After we sat down, B. Night was the first to break the silence. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“Not exactly,” I replied, trying to figure out what was going on.
“Time is money, so I’ll get right to the point.” I never expected him to add, “I’m here to make a movie.”
I jerked back, even more caught off guard than I just was. “You want to make a movie with me?”
“I definitely have my work cut out for me when it comes to you, but yes, I do. I’m here to do what I do best, and that’s making a top-grossing film with the actor capable of filling the role.”
“Are you patronizing me?”
“No,” he coaxed. “I’m merely stating facts.”
“Aires…” Thomas warned in that tone that pissed me off.
B. Night nodded to me. “How about I talk to you in terms you understand?”
“By all means”—I gestured to him—“continue.”
“Alright.” He stood, walking around the room as if this was an episode of The Sopranos. “My next box office hit will be a dramatic, romantic love story, titled”—he spread his hands out theatrically—“Say You Love Me. I want tears! I want suspense and agony! I want viewers on the edge of their seats just waiting for that first kiss. The angst and turmoil of being apart all those years, but now they’re stuck on an island together?—”
“An island?”
“Yes!” he shouted. “After you run into each other at the airport, it’s been ten years since you’ve seen each other, but fate”—he snapped his fingers—“has brought you together!”
“Alright…”
“But then,” he dramatically exclaimed, clapping hands, “the same flight that you’re on crashes!”
I’d worked with passionate directors before, and in my experience, it made the movie better.
“You’re the only two that survive, and now you have to fight for your lives, but it’s hard to fight the eternal love you will always have for each other.”
“Sounds like quite the plot,” I remarked. “What drove them apart to begin with?”
“They were from different worlds, they wanted different things, and they were young, but now… now they might die, and it brings them closer together because they never fought for one another before.”
“Sounds awfully familiar,” I whispered under my breath.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”
Before I could ask what he meant by that, he vividly added, “The plane crash will be of epic proportions, and no expense will be spared. I want fire! I want catastrophe! I need complete and utter destruction as you’re plummeting to your deaths from thousands of feet in the air, praying you’ll survive, and then once you’ve given up hope, the plane crashes into the water! BOOM!” He slammed his fist down on the table, making me jolt a bit.
“As you”re struggling for your next breath, trying to survive, you remember that the love of your life is on the same flight with you, so you begin screaming her name, desperately trying to find her. You’re covered in blood from your wounds, and your chest feels like it’s on fire as you try to swim for your life and hers. Until finally! You find her!”
I listened intently, seeing it all play out in front of me.
“The impact knocked her unconscious, and you have seconds to get her out of that seat belt before the plane explodes. Except you can’t get her seat belt off, and time is against you…” He paused for a moment. “You’re fighting with the belt, screaming profanities for it to unbuckle and trying to keep both your heads above water as the front of the plane catches on fire. You can’t leave her! You won’t! You’d rather die there with her than ever be apart again!”
My eyes widened.
“At the last second, you tear off the seat belt and immediately clutch her to your chest before supporting her limp body on top of yours as you swim backward out of the water and onto the sand. Once you’re able to walk, you carry her out of the water as fast as you can, and the second you’re out enough, the plane explodes behind you. BOOM!”
I jolted again.
“A huge, monumental explosion!”
“Wow.”
“And this is how the movie will start. This will be my greatest accomplishment,” he professed, sitting back down. “We’ll begin production in Australia in about two weeks.”
“You don’t want me to read for the part?”
“No. I have full confidence you were born to play Samuel. We’ll be moving fairly quickly, and filming should wrap in about two months from the start date. The release will be on Christmas Day. I want the holiday crowd not to know what hit them.”
Unable to process what was happening fast enough, I sat there in disbelief.
“Numbers don’t lie,” B. Night boasted. “Before your stint in rehab, you were on your way to becoming the top-paid actor, and I want to be the one who gets you there.”
I arched an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”
“Aires.” Dad intervened. “The man is throwing you a bone. I suggest you take it.”
Despite the director singing my praises, my father didn’t give a shit about it. What I accomplished never mattered. Nothing was ever good enough for him.
“People love a good comeback story, and I want to be a part of yours. It’s really that simple.” B. Night laid the contract on the table. “You’ve always been a very private actor, and I respect that about you. Your fans, your diehard ones, they don’t really know who you are. At least not the man behind the screen. I think it’s time you remind them what you’re made of.”
I was eagerly waiting for the other shoe to drop. There had to be a catch. No doubt about it.
“Your fans will love to feel like they’re part of your life outside of your movies. Not only have they been with you since your Kids Club career began but now they’ll also be a part of your second-chance, epic comeback. Fans love to feel like they’re a part of something, and with this journey we’re about to embark on, we’ll make movie history and win every award.”
My mind was spinning. It was a whirlwind of emotions until he slapped me with the plot twist. The one I was never predicting.
“You wanted a catch?” He nodded. “You want to make this movie with me?”
“Of course,” I declared.
“Great.” He smacked his hands together before dropping his atomic bomb on my head when he hit me with the ultimatum. “We can make this movie together on one condition. I want your Kids Club colleague to play your love interest.”
My stomach dropped. “Bailey?”
He smiled wide. “Absolutely.”
“Have you pitched?—”
“We have to her team.”
“And?”
He eyed Thomas and my father as he shared, “They refuse to allow her to work with you.”
“I see.”
B. Night slid the contract across the table. “On top of your legal issues, you have a short fuse and often let your temper get the best of you.”
“I always warn the paparazzi to get their cameras out of my face before I react to their incessant stalking.”
“It’s their job to have their cameras in your face,” Dad bit. “The day reporters don’t harass you with their cameras in your face is the day we have a bigger problem than you and your rage.”
“They always seem to catch me on a bad day.”
“Every day is a bad day?” Dad ridiculed.
Redirecting my gaze to the director, I questioned, “If her team has said no?—”
“It’s now your job,” Thomas stressed. “To make them say yes.”
I shook my head. “How the hell am I supposed to make that happen?”
“You two used to be two peas in a pod.” Thomas stood. “Use your charm, your memories, use your dick if you have to… just get her team to agree.”
“A love story within a love story,” B. Night remarked. “I can hear the box office gold now.”
I didn’t have Bailey’s number, and I hadn’t spoken to her since the night I got into all of this trouble for her. I knew how her management worked. If anyone could convince them, it would be her publicist Capri Locke.
Growing up in this business, I learned to keep my friends close and my enemies closer. This mentality wouldn’t be the first time to save my ass. Capri’s fiancée, Elias Sinclair, owed me a favor.
So it was now or never.
The phrase “everything happens for a reason” meant more to me at that moment than ever before.
Maybe you could call this fate.
Maybe you could call her my destiny.
Or maybe, just maybe, she was…
My soulmate.