Chapter Thirty-Nine - Becca
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The stage lights lift, switching to a bright spotlight that lands on my face. For a second, there’s only silence and then the entire audience erupts, their voices mixing together in a jumbled, indiscernible mass of confusion.
In the wings, the Starlight producers stare over their clipboards.
No one knew what I was planning to do today.
I’d almost expected there to be some sort of video approval process leading up to this moment, but no one had asked to review my footage before I submitted the final file.
Which I had done just moments before coming out on this stage.
I wasn’t even sure if I was going to go through with it until I filmed the final clip this morning in my hotel room. But now that it’s out, I feel lighter. That’s how I know I’m doing the right thing—even if it terrifies me.
“You’re quitting?” Lucky’s voice is strained, his face pale. “And dropping out of the competition?”
I nod, not trusting myself to talk. There’s still so much I need to say to Lucky, but I can’t do it here. Not on this couch with the world watching. Not when I’m finally free.
“Becca . . . I . . .” Lucky rubs at the back of his neck.
If this moment were happening at any other time, I might laugh at how dumbfounded he seems, but the amusement fades as fast as it comes.
My heart wrenches at the confused, unsure expression on his face.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but even now, I don’t know if things will ever be right between us.
“I can’t do this anymore, Lucky,” I try to explain.
“I don’t want to pretend that I hate you when the cameras are rolling, and I also don’t want to act like I’m okay with the way things are now.
I don’t want to lie or keep secrets just so we can win.
And it’s so much more than that. It’s like you said, I can’t run from the things that scare me anymore.
I have to face them. So . . . I think I should probably go. ”
I stand up slowly, wiping my sweaty hands on the front of my skirt. The other finalists are all staring, with the same, wide-eyed, expressions of disbelief.
“Wait.” Lucky jumps to his feet, trailing a hand down my arm. “Don’t go just yet.” His fingers leave what feels like tangible flames on my skin and hope springs up in my stupid heart. “There’s something I want you to see.”
Lucky waits until I sit back down on the loveseat before he calls out, “Mr. Dozer, I have something I need to say.” His voice, loud and clear, carries all the way to the back of the auditorium and instantly every eye is on him.
Mr. Dozer who has been quietly conferring with a handful of the producers in the wings, steps back on stage and gives Lucky a toothy grin. He still looks frazzled, but he’s at least attempting normalcy for the sake of the live show. “Yes, Lucky?”
“Well.” Lucky clears his throat. “Like Becca said, I think my video will speak for itself. Will you roll the footage?”
Dozer pales ever so slightly before swinging towards the audience. “Shall we watch Lucky’s video? What do you say?”
The crowd goes wild and Dozer gives the signal as Lucky sinks back down next to me on the couch.
“Lucky, what’s—”
“Shhh . . .” he whispers, indicating the screen with his chin. “You’re not gonna want to miss this, Holly G, trust me.” Then he flashes a smile so beautiful that tears prick the corners of my eyes.
The stage lights go down as Lucky’s video begins to play.
The footage is a little jumpy, more vlog style as the camera focuses on Lucky.
He’s outside, though I don’t recognize the surroundings.
It looks like he’s at a park, somewhere with biking and hiking trails.
The entire background is full of lush green trees.
Then a massive blue pick-up rolls into view, pulling a metal trailer behind it.
And perched on top of that trailer is an ATV.
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth. No. Is this what he wanted me to see? Lucky risking his life for a stupid video? I shake my head. I can’t sit here and watch this. I can’t. I won’t watch it. I’m tempted to flee the stage, but then Lucky reaches over and entwines his fingers with mine.
“Easy, Holly G,” he whispers. It’s the same thing he said when we arrived here in California. It was a lifeline then, and somehow it feels like one now. So, I take his hand and squeeze.
On screen, Lucky walks around the ATV, inspecting it. A tall man in a Starlight polo hands him a shiny black helmet. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“If you fall off the horse, you have to get back on it right?” Lucky replies, shoving the helmet over his head.
“Well, if you’re sure then.” The producer hands Lucky a clipboard. “You’ll need to sign this waiver. It’s pretty standard, but it absolves the competition and the Starlight agency from any blame should you get injured or worse.”
Lucky flinches but reaches for the pen and signs his name with a flourish. “Let’s do it,” he says directly into the camera lens.
Then the footage immediately cuts away to a different clip, this one of Lucky sitting on the bed in his hotel room.
“Twelve weeks ago, I was filming a live for my channel. There was an accident. Most of you know that, and you know it’s the reason why I didn’t make videos for a while.
But what you don’t know is that the injuries I sustained were pretty serious.
In fact, if things had gone differently, I might not be here right now. ”
Lucky launches into a detailed description of what happened the day of his accident, his injuries, and his recovery.
As he speaks, the footage cuts away and a new clip begins to play.
It’s the footage of his accident, the footage he’s been trying so desperately to erase from the public’s mind—and his own.
Lucky speaks about the lingering effects of the TBI and the nightmares as the horrific images from that day fill the screen. He even admits to the panic attacks, and all the emotional trauma he’s been dealing with since that day.
“I’m not telling you all of this so you’ll feel sorry for me or anything like that, I’m telling you so you’ll understand.”
The footage cuts back over to present-day Lucky in the park.
He’s sitting on the ATV now, and with a flick of his wrist, he turns the ignition and the 4-wheeler roars to life.
The Starlight official steps back, giving the ATV a wide berth, but Lucky doesn’t move.
He doesn’t accelerate or even inch the machine forward.
He’s frozen on top of the ATV, brows furrowed.
“Lucky?” The Starlight producer waves in his face. “You okay?”
Lucky still doesn’t move. For several more seconds, he just sits there with the ATV idling beneath him. Then he slowly removes his helmet and switches off the power.
“I can’t do this,” he says, tucking the helmet under his arm. “I’m sorry, but this was a mistake.”
The footage switches back to Lucky in his hotel room.
“I wanted to prove that Lucky DeLucca was back and better than ever. Selfishly, I wanted to give all of you something else to talk about—something that would make what happened to me just a blip on the radar. And when we were given this challenge, I thought, what better way to show people that than to do the same stunt that sidelined me three months ago.”
On screen, Lucky sighs, rubbing at the scar on his scalp. I give the real-life Lucky’s hand another squeeze.
“But someone I really care about told me something that’s stuck with me.
She said that there’s more to me than just my content.
That got me thinking. Why do I feel like I need to prove myself?
Are the number of views a video gets really worth my life?
For a long time now, my worth has been wrapped up in my platform.
I didn’t realize it before . . . but now that I do, I can’t stop thinking about it.
Everything I do is for the views, for the likes, for the validation that comes with it. ”
He lets out a deep breath. “But that changes today. I don’t want to be the old Lucky DeLucca anymore.
I was lucky enough to walk away from my accident, but I’ve still got healing to do.
On top of the physical symptoms I still deal with, there are emotional scars as well.
So, I’m going to find a good therapist to help me with those.
I want to make sure I’m getting the help I need so that both my body and my mind can get better.
As for my platform? Well, I’m not sure what the future holds, but I’m done convincing myself I’m only worth something if my follower number goes up. ”
The Lucky on screen pauses, offering the camera a sweet smile. I don’t realize I’m crying until real-life Lucky reaches over and gently swipes at my cheeks.
“This next part’s real important, Holly G,” he whispers in my ear, pressing a kiss to the bare skin of my shoulder.
I shiver from the touch, but manage to keep my eyes on the video.
“There’s something I want to address,” on-screen Lucky continues. “Not everything you see on camera is real—whether it’s a video on someone’s channel or footage from the Starlight Challenge competition. Or even the people on screen. But the kiss between Becca Evans and I was 100% real.”
Once again the audience is buzzing, their voices filling the auditorium. My face flushes, and Lucky’s thumb begins to rub against mine in soothing strokes.
“We wanted to make you believe we hated each other, but the truth is, my feelings for her are the most real thing I’ve ever experienced.
I want that to be clear. Becca,” he leans forward, looking the camera dead in the eye, as he speaks directly to me.
“I don’t know where we stand, but you are the most real thing I’ve ever known, and I meant what I said in Vegas. I just wanted you to know that.”
He leans back and rubs a hand down his face before he shrugs. “I guess that’s it. Thanks for everything, guys. It’s been a real ride. This is Lucky DeLucca, signing off.”
The screen goes black. There’s a beat of silence as the whole audience and everyone onstage processes what they’ve just witnessed. But then the moment ends and mayhem erupts in the auditorium once more.
Dozer and the producers are arguing back and forth, the audience members are going nuts, and the whole place sorta falls apart at the revelation bombs Lucky and I just dropped. It’s absolutely wild.
I find Lucky’s gaze in the midst of the chaos, and some of the tightness in my chest loosens as our eyes lock.
“I think we broke Vid Con,” I joke, smiling.
“Yeah, I think we did, Holly G. I think we did.” Lucky returns my smile and that fissure in my heart, the one I was sure would be jagged and aching forever begins to stitch itself shut. “What do you say we get out of here?”
“Don’t you want to find out who won the competition?”
“I already know who won,” Lucky says, standing up and then pulling me to my feet.
We make a break for the wings, never once letting go of each other’s hands. Tony stands a few feet away from the exit, his trusty camera sitting at his feet.
“Thanks for everything, Tony,” I say, leaning in to give him a hug. “I couldn’t have made my video without you.”
“I knew it!” Lucky points to Tony. “I knew that footage came from you.”
Tony just grins, unbuttoning his jacket to reveal and homemade shirt with the words #TEAMBUCKY across the chest. Winking at us, he grabs his camera and saunters away, whistling a jaunty little tune.
“You’re definitely going to have to fill me in on that one,” Lucky says, staring after Tony.
“I will, don’t worry.”
“Are you sure about all of this, Holly G?” Lucky turns serious, taking both of my hands in his. “I mean, it’s not too late to go back. Hell, with what just happened, I bet we could still win the whole damn thing. I know you need the money. For your mom and stuff.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s time I faced the problem with my mom head on.
I’ve already made an appointment with a family therapist back home, and I contacted a sponsor from the local AA chapter.
My mom needs real help, and I have to stop putting my life on hold.
I don’t have any idea what the next step is, but I’ll figure it out. ”
“Maybe you could take a photography class . . . or something.” Lucky gives me a knowing smile.
“I can’t believe you remember that.”
“When a beautiful girl spills her heart to you in the Arizona desert, you remember every word. Trust me on that one, Holly G.” Lucky kisses the back of my hands. “I know this wasn’t an easy decision, but whatever you do next, I know you’re going to be amazing at it.”
“Thank you. Maybe I will take that class.” I take a step closer. “And can I just say how glad I am that you didn’t get on that ATV?”
Lucky sighs. “I just realized that you were right. It wasn’t worth it. I don’t know if this means I’m done with content creation or just re-vamping, but I’m not going to be doing all that stupid shit anymore.”
The words wrap around me like a cardigan, and I let out a breath of relief. The fissure in my chest is nearly closed now, but there’s one more thing I need to ask.
“And . . . did you mean what you said in the video? About me? I mean, I heard what you said, but that fight we had—"
“Holly G,” Lucky stops me, pulling me closer. “I meant every word. What I feel for you is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Whatever my future looks like, I know you’re in it.”
Tears well up in my eyes, and Lucky quickly wipes them away. “I hope those are good tears?”
“Definitely happy tears.”
Lucky kisses me then, his lips parting mine. Everything else in the world fades away, as he grips my hips, pulling me closer. I press up on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. The smell of him is intoxicating, the taste of him even more so.
We kiss until we’re breathless, our hearts pounding when we pull away. Lucky’s face is all lit up like a Christmas tree, and I can’t stop the big dopey grin from spreading across mine.
“You know,” Lucky drawls, giving me a devious look. “They haven’t exactly asked for these back yet . . .” He pulls the keys to Clementine out of his pocket. “Should we take the old girl for one last spin?”
A wild bubble of laughter erupts from my throat, my heart full and bursting.
“Absolutely.”