Chapter 21
The next morning, the cryptic post makes so much more sense.
A picture surfaced late last night, after I’d gone to bed, of Bailey and River kissing.
They’re sitting on a couch, wearing the same clothes from the party photo—I only know this from a fan breakdown Tessa sent me with the pictures side by side—their eyes closed, lips locked.
The narrative right now is mostly excitement. Posts of fans screaming, jumping up and down, some even crying. There are, of course, some naysayers who keep asking if this is real and not some manipulated photo.
Luke and I are cautiously optimistic on the drive over to the studio this morning.
It’s his turn to drive, since I did yesterday, and I have to say, I enjoy being chauffeured.
I love not having to navigate traffic, and it also means I get to wear my favorite short-sleeve white blouse today—the cuffs are tight, and it’s annoying to drive in.
“Do you think this is real?” he asks as we drive down Olive, heading toward Silverline for a day full of shooting season four. He’s got his jacket off and hanging in the back seat, and the white shirt he’s wearing is perfectly ironed.
“It’s definitely real,” I say. “Bailey wouldn’t just kiss River for a photo op. But it might not be real in the sense that they could’ve just been caught up in the moment.”
Luke nods, keeping his eyes on the road. “That could be worse,” he says.
It’s true. We saw firsthand how heartbroken the fans were when everyone read into River’s statement about Bailey and thought there might be a reconciliation—and there wasn’t.
So we asked them to meet with us before shooting starts, just to get a read on what’s going on and to prepare for whatever might be coming.
I’m trying not to get too excited, but if this is some kind of reconciliation, this could fix everything. This is what the fans wanted all along.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re inside Bailey’s cozy trailer, River and Bailey sitting together on the small couch while Luke and I take the chairs pulled up across from them.
“We’re not sure what it means yet,” Bailey says, her hand in River’s, fingers intertwined. She’s half Elora right now, dressed in a robe, her hair curled and hanging down her back, her makeup ethereal looking with soft pink-and-purple eye shadow.
“I think it’s a start in the right direction, though,” River says, looking at her in a way that’s hard to miss. He’s also been through hair and makeup, pointy prosthetic ears poking through his long blond wig and a delicate filigree crown on his head.
Honestly, they both look a little ridiculous to be having this serious conversation right now.
The kiss, as it turns out, was real. I figured that, knowing Bailey.
Things came out at the party that they hadn’t previously talked about.
It was a bit of a truth-telling night. River thought she’d dropped the blind item, which she didn’t, and Bailey thought the cheating rumor was true—and it wasn’t.
All of it layered on top of a breakup that had already happened.
Everything finally came out, and one thing led to another.
And then the kiss happened, and the internet went wild.
Tessa keeps sending me posts. It’s actually crazy how deeply fans are invested in this.
“And you have no idea who took the picture?” Luke asks.
Bailey shakes her head. “It was stupid of us to kiss at the party like that, but I didn’t think anyone was around.”
Every once in a while, her newness to the industry shows. Anyone else would know there are always cameras everywhere. River would definitely know that, but I’m guessing he was just caught up in the moment.
“What should we do?” Bailey asks, looking at me.
It must be so hard being where she is—this place where things are fragile with her and River, tentative but hopeful—and having to do all of it under the watchful eye of the public.
I look at Luke before looking back at her. “I don’t think you should confirm or deny it.”
“Yes.” Luke nods. “Let the fans do what they’re going to do.”
River looks at Bailey and smiles softly, and she gives him a smile back. Honestly, it’s so adorable that if this doesn’t work out—if Kaelric and Elora don’t get their happy ending—I, too, am going to be mad.
And it’s not just because I’ll have to pick up the public pieces if it doesn’t. But that’s also part of it, so I’m really rooting for these two.
There’s a knock on the door, and a woman holding a clipboard peeks in, telling Bailey and River they’re expected at wardrobe.
Luke and I leave the trailer, walking toward the set where we’ll sit in what they call “video village,” watching the monitors and keeping an eye out for anything we can share online.
I’m assuming Victoria will want us to keep doing what we’ve been doing despite the recent turn of events. If anything, it’s more important now that we lock in this version of the story before anything else can take over.
We sit side by side in director’s chairs, a monitor in front of us. Luke actually picked his chair up and moved it so he was closer to me. I’m assuming so we can make commentary while watching the action.
But also, it’s making me feel a little sweaty. Or that could just be the temperature in this room.
“I’ve never been on set before,” I tell him. “Have you?”
He nods. “A couple of times. But nothing this big. Once was for an Ella Abbott video.”
I chuckle. “And how was that?” I’ve seen most of her videos. They are usually over-the-top productions.
He gives me a sour look. “She was writhing around on a bed with a huge python, lip-synching to a song about how she wished some guy wouldn’t have cheated.”
“Makes perfect sense,” I say. “He’s a snake.”
Luke raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Do you know that I just got that right now?”
“No, you didn’t,” I say, reaching out and grabbing his forearm without thinking, feeling the tight muscles under his shirt.
“I swear,” he says, and I burst out laughing.
Someone yells, “Quiet on set!” and I cover my mouth, still laughing, my shoulders shaking as I lean back in my chair.
It’s then I realize I’m still holding on to his arm, and I quickly let go.
“You’re gonna get us kicked off the set the first day, Archie,” he says, leaning over and whispering in my ear, and my arms are instantly covered in goose bumps.
“Shut up,” I whisper back.
“Action!” a voice calls out, and Luke and I lean toward the screen in front of us, arms touching.
On-screen, the five members of Kaelric’s family—the Vireths, all with their long, straight, shiny hair and pointed ears—and human Elora gather around a table. It’s a feast to celebrate Kaelric’s return after he fought a terrible battle in the Eclipse court.
That’s how season three ended, with the audience not knowing if Kaelric survived the war.
I can’t believe I get to sit and watch spoilers for my favorite show being recorded right in front of me.
“You fought hard, Kaelric,” his father says, his voice deep and booming.
“We’re so proud of you,” says his mother.
Luke leans his head toward me. “I can’t believe this show has such a huge fandom,” he says in my ear.
“Shhh,” I say to him. I don’t want us to get in trouble. But also, I want to hear this.
“Cut!” someone yells, and the actors relax while they wait for the crew to adjust some lighting.
I sit back in my chair, feeling slightly irritated. I want to get to the good stuff. Although we’re only in the first episode, so I doubt much will happen. Still, I can’t wait to hold spoilers over Sam’s head tonight. I signed an NDA, so I can’t let her in on the secrets.
Someone yells, “Action!” and I’m leaning toward the screen again, watching with rapt attention.
“Oh my gosh,” Luke says in my ear. “You’re totally into this.”
“What?” I shake my head. “No, I’m not.”
“You are. You’re a moonbeam,” he says.
“Sunbeam,” I correct him.
His eyes widen. “I knew it.”
Crap.
“Shut up,” I snap.
“This is the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
I eye him. “Even over our clients potentially getting back together?”
“So you admit it,” he says.
I close my eyes for a beat. “Yes, I’m a fan. I’ve watched the entire show.”
What I’m not going to tell him is that I’ve watched it three times.
He leans even closer, his mouth right by my ear. “I bet you look good in pointy ears.”
I punch him on the leg as he laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking.
He keeps teasing me, making comments here and there as we watch.
“I don’t get it,” he says, leaning back in his chair when they’ve called cut and the actors are getting touch-ups and costume adjustments.
“The show?” I ask him.
“Yeah, what’s the appeal?”
“You’re coming in for the fourth season. There are three seasons leading up to this one, and it’s hard to get the full picture like this—with all the stopping, and without the special effects.”
“I still don’t get it.”
I tilt my head to the side, fixing him with a glare. “You know what? I’m going to make you watch the entire show.”
“Oh gosh,” he groans, swiping a hand down his face.
“That’s right. You’re going to come to my house and sit on my couch, and we’re going to watch it.”
“Will there be Chinese food?”
“I’ll consider it,” I say.
The corner of his mouth pulls upward. “It’s a date.”
I look away then, feeling my cheeks heat.
I walked right into that one.
He nudges my shoulder. “Look at them,” he says, pointing toward Bailey and River standing just off set.
River says something, and Bailey laughs. He places a hand on her waist, drawing her in a little closer. It’s an easy, familiar kind of closeness—the kind that doesn’t feel like it’s being thought about at all, like it’s simple.
Luke leans in toward me. “This is going to be good for our careers, you know.”
I turn to him, blinking. “What?”
“Having this one under our belts. People will talk,” he says.
I nod slowly, because he’s right. If we manage to come out of this unscathed, it’ll do a lot for both of us.
I glance back at Bailey and River, still standing there like the rest of the world isn’t watching.
And then they’re called back to set, and the moment is over.
Luke kept mocking the show while we were watching them film, so to punish him for his crimes, I’m making him start season one tonight.
It’s very much not a date, because he’s sitting on one end of the couch, and I’m on the other, plates of Chinese food on our laps.
I’m calling it a work meeting, since he should probably know more about his client’s show than he does. Which, at this point, isn’t much. It took them nearly the entire day to film the celebratory dinner scene.
“What’s your plan for me if I still don’t like this show when we’re done?” he asks.
“I’ll probably have to rat you out to your client. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of him when he comes back to Harrow & Finch.”
He chuckles, shaking his head, a forkful of orange chicken in his hand.
“Are you ready to have your socks knocked off?” I say, directing the remote toward the TV.
“I think I’ll be keeping my socks on,” he says, looking down at his feet.
He’s wearing the T-shirt and joggers that he let me borrow. It kind of worked out perfectly that I still had them, because he wouldn’t have had time to go home and change and come back—it would’ve cost him at least forty minutes with traffic.
A part of me didn’t want to let him have them back. I didn’t tell him this, but I may have slept in the shirt a couple of times. It’s a very nice cotton.
I threw on a T-shirt and a pair of yoga pants while he ordered food, and then we settled in on our opposite sides of the couch. For a work meeting, it’s feeling a little too domestic, to be honest.
And kind of . . . strange.
But that’s not going to stop me from making him watch this. We are in too deep now. I pull up the show and press “Play” on the first episode of season one, the theme song for Kingdom of Flame and Moonlight filling the room.
Luke—because he can’t help himself—makes snide comments and jokes during the first episode, so much that I have to pause and rewind more than once. But by the second one, he’s hooked.
When the credits roll at the end, I turn off the TV with the remote.
“Hey,” Luke says, his head popping up from his side of the couch, and he nudges me with his foot. We’re stretched out now, our legs meeting in the middle. “Aren’t we going to watch the next one?”
“We have to be at the studio in the morning,” I say, yawning.
“So what. It’s not like we’ll need a lot of energy. We’ll probably just sit around and watch them film another table scene.”
“No,” I tell him. “Tomorrow is a fight scene.”
“I’m sure they’ll find a way to make that boring too.”
My phone beeps on the coffee table, and I grab it to see who’s texting me. It’s a message from Tessa.
Tessa: This just posted
I click on the link she sent, and it takes me to a post from You Oughta Know.
“Oh no,” I say, sitting up.
“What’s going on?” Luke asks, sitting up too.
“You Oughta Know made a post.”
I scoot toward the middle of the couch, and Luke does the same so we can look at my phone together.
“Dearest Sunbeams, I’m afraid we’ve all been played,” she starts in her nasally voice, a picture of Bailey and River kissing behind her.
“It’s come to my attention that this entire breakup between Bailey Lockhart and River Rhodes has all been a publicity stunt to get us to keep our eyes on the show—a PR move if I’ve ever seen one. ”
“What?” I say to my phone screen.
“Let’s start with the timing of the ‘breakup,’” she says, using air quotes, like a brat. “Was it a coincidence that it was announced just as the release date for season four was revealed? I think not.”
I look at Luke and shake my head. It was a coincidence, actually.
“Then the blind item comes out, written by someone who knows exactly what they were doing.”
She reads the blind item before moving on to the PR war that she claims was “designed to keep the fans engaged and talking about the show,” and goes on to say that the behind-the-scenes content that Luke and I have been posting was a “drip feed to keep fans invested.”
“All leading up to the cast party, that ‘private event’ that somehow had a photographer nearby? Give me a break,” she says.
“And, Sunbeams, then a picture shows up of our beloved stars kissing, just as the show was about to start filming, making it obvious what’s been going on all along: a blatant PR stunt.
As for me and mine? I won’t be watching the next season.
Join me, and let’s show them we won’t be played.
Until next time.” She blows air kisses at the camera, and then it’s over.
“It already has ten thousand views,” I say.
Luke cusses next to me. A whole string of words that would never be allowed at Harrow & Finch.
I don’t know what to think or say right now. I might be in shock.
It’s a solid angle, honestly. Not true—it would be impossible to pull off a stunt like that—but it lines up just enough to look real. And once people decide something looks real, it doesn’t matter what the truth is.
This is so bad.