Chapter 12Eden
12
Eden
T he trailer door creaked open, and a sleek Prada heel came into view, followed by a long, perfectly toned leg in a cream-colored, fitted ankle-length skirt. The rest of her stepped out, wearing a matching high-neck, sleeveless top that practically screamed quiet luxury. Ingrid moved with the kind of grace that could shut down a runway, looking every bit the part. Eden couldn’t help but think this dingy trailer—serving as their makeshift green room before the festival—had never seen anything quite so glamorous.
"What's up, losers?" Ingrid's low, sultry voice filled the room as she stood before Eden and her band. Jeez . Ingrid was a visual shock, her beauty almost painfully striking. Her long, glossy blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders as she flicked off small black sunglasses from her face.
Eden couldn't help but notice Beck stiffening next to her on the couch, his fist clenching until his knuckles were white. Maybe Eden should have given him a heads-up about Ingrid's impending arrival. It had been four years since he had seen her, but the unfolding scene was simply too entertaining to pass up.
Eden had successfully persuaded Ingrid to join them in the green room before the festival performance. Eden had fed Ingrid so much lo mein that she had slipped into a semi-conscious food coma. Then, while they lazed on the couch, Eden had gently floated the idea of Ingrid coming to the green room, and much to her shock and awe, Ingrid had casually said, "Fine." The bottom line was that it had somehow worked, and that was all that mattered.
Having Ingrid step into the green room felt like tempting fate, maybe even risking a tear in the space-time continuum but Eden was willing to take the chance. She cared deeply for both Beck and Ingrid and just wanted them to find some kind of closure, something to help them finally move forward.
It was clear they were both stuck in the past—Ingrid couldn’t seem to hold down a steady relationship, and Beck seemed to avoid dating entirely. Eden couldn’t remember a single time he’d brought a girl backstage. While Finn and Reef engaged in various and diverse romantic pursuits, Beck remained noticeably uninvolved. The sound of Finn and Reef barreling toward Ingrid like a couple of overexcited puppies snapped Eden out of her thoughts.
"You look like a hot therapist, all put together and shit! Psychoanalyze me, baby!" Finn exclaimed, hugging Ingrid.
"That sentence alone is a sign to get a real therapist," Ingrid responded with a laugh, shaking her head over his shoulder.
"Is Ingrid Dubois living and breathing in the green room right now?" Reef said, rubbing his eyes and blinking rapidly as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"Your eyes do not deceive you. I am here, and surprisingly, it's not against my will. I was sick of sitting in Eden's house alone like a rich widow." Eden wanted to say that being a widow would require a long-term commitment, which Ingrid hadn't had in a long time. But she held her tongue, not wanting to poke the glamorous but bitey bear.
"Welcome. Help yourself to our assortment of snacks," Reef said with a slight bow, gesturing towards his stash of snacks.
"Thank you, sweetness," Ingrid replied, patting his cheek softly. Everyone knew Reef offering his snacks was the ultimate sign of his affection. Finn and Reef returned to their seats on the smaller loveseat.
Beck seemed to vibrate in his seat next to Eden on the three-seat couch. There was palpable tension in the air as if he were ready to bolt at any second.
"Beck," Ingrid said, her gaze shifting to him. Her tone was dismissive as if he were inconsequential, yet her eyes traced him slowly, taking in every detail. Ingrid appeared totally unbothered, but Eden, knowing her best friend, detected the telltale sign of her anxiety—the perfectly manicured fingers tapping on the outside of her legs.
"Ingrid," Beck replied in a rough voice, his hands still fisted. His eyes drank her in thoroughly, like a man dying of thirst, as if she were an oasis in a stretch of endless desert. His gaze lingered on her tapping fingers, and his lip twitched slightly. The silence hung heavy, each beat stretching the tension a little further.
"Did the temperature just drop in the trailer? Or just me?" Finn interjected with a small, roguish smile. Shit stirrer.
Ingrid, unperturbed by Finn's comment, flipped her glossy honey-blonde hair over her shoulder and strode to the only available seat on the couch—next to Beck. Eden held her breath, observing with a mixture of interest and concern as Beck visibly tensed further. Ingrid sat gracefully, throwing one leg over the other in an elegantly composed manner. The air in the trailer grew denser.
Her skirt rode up slightly, exposing her calf. Beck's eyes fixated on the revealed skin as if it were 1890, and her ankle was the height of scandal. Meanwhile, Ingrid's gaze zeroed in on Beck's forearm, her eyes narrowing slightly. Eden couldn't help but find their interaction reminiscent of a scene from a Victorian romance novel.
"New tattoo? Did you go to Bali to find yourself?" Ingrid remarked with a dismissive sniff, her attention apparently more captivated by her perfectly manicured nails. Reef nudged Finn with his boot, prompting a light chuckle from Finn.
"It's been four years. There's a lot you need to discover about me. Maybe rediscover," Beck retorted, his posture easing as he settled into the back of the couch. His arms spread over the top, and his legs stretched out.
"I'll leave the rediscovery to some other poor soul. I saw everything I needed to see," Ingrid scoffed, her gaze meeting his with a steely determination. Beck responded with a smile as if taking her insult as a compliment. Eden had to smother her own smile at the exchange.
"Okay, Marco Polo. You had a great time discovering me the first time," Beck said with a smirk, clearly enjoying the conversation.
"No, I don't know if I did. Unfortunately, it wasn't very memorable," Ingrid replied, feigning a pout over her full lips.
"Keep telling yourself that, and maybe one day it will be true," Beck retorted with a smile. A knock interrupted the back and forth, and the trailer door opened slightly.
"Come in!" Eden shouted, eager for a distraction as Ingrid and Beck's banter felt basically like foreplay. Ronan walked through the door, a slight smile playing on his lips when his eyes met Eden's. Her heart jolted at the sight. Be still, foolish heart.
"Impeccable timing, Mr. Murphy," Eden said with a smile.
"I've been told I come at the perfect time," Ronan replied, a playful grin dancing on his lips. However, his expression shifted to a slight grimace when he realized the unintentional double entendre.
"Hopefully, not quick. No one wants premature ej—" Finn began, but Eden's phone started ringing, mercifully cutting off his words. Small blessings, she thought.
She glanced down and spotted Quentin's name on the screen. She had a few minutes before the show started and hadn't spoken to Quentin in a while.
"I have to take this quick," Eden said as she held the phone up with a small smile. Ronan's eyes fell to the screen with a tight smile and a nod as he busied himself with his equipment.
"Hey, what's up, Quentin?" Eden said as she walked to the exit of the trailer.
"Ed! Greetings from the Gold Coast of Australia," Quentin's voice sounded perky over the phone.
"What time is it for you?" Eden asked, still struggling with the time difference. Quentin had been in Australia for weeks filming the next installment of his superhero movies, and she still didn't have a clear sense of the time there. Frankly, she barely knew the time in her current time zone.
"7 AM, just doing some push-ups with a kangaroo. Then shrimp on the barbie for lunch," Quentin replied with a hint of sarcasm.
"Really? I've seen some videos of some beefed-up kangaroos." Eden remarked, recalling a video she had seen of a kangaroo with massive muscles. It was intense .
"No seas tonto," Quentin chuckled in Spanish. “Don’t be so reductive.”
“You started it, fool.” Eden said with a laugh. "How is filming going for you?" Eden asked, idly pushing a rock with her boot.
"It's good, the same old stuff. A lot of running and jumping. Saving the universe," Quentin said, his tone devoid of enthusiasm.
"That all sounds exciting, but you sound bummed by it," Eden observed, her eyebrows furrowing.
"You would think so, but I think I'm ready for a change. I'm thinking of having my agent submit me for more dramas. Less action," Quentin shared quietly as if speaking it aloud would alert the world.
"Wow, that would be awesome. You are an amazing actor. You would do great," she responded genuinely. She meant it; he was seriously talented. He had a gift for infusing emotion into his roles, even his more superficial roles.
"Thanks, Ed. I am seriously proud of you for doing this documentary. I know it's out of your comfort zone, but I know it will be good for you," Quentin's voice softened.
"Thanks, Quentin. I think so, too," Eden whispered. It was shaping up to be very good for her in more than one way. She was broadcasting her story and hopefully helping people while learning about herself. Slowly but surely, opening herself up again.
"So, how is the interview going?" Quentin asked.
"Honestly, not bad. I really like my documentarian. He's... great," Eden said with an involuntary sigh.
"Eden Percy! Did you just girlishly sigh?" Quentin asked with a laugh. Oh god, had she? How humiliating .
"No!" she said quickly but paused. "Okay, maybe," she admitted, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment.
"You wanna bone your interviewer. That is extremely interesting," Quentin said with a smile in his voice.
"Try not to sound too excited about the predicament," Eden groaned, massaging her neck wearily.
"This is a major development, Ed. It's been ages since you showed interest in anyone." Was it a big deal? She didn't want it to be a big deal. But he was right. She hadn't genuinely liked someone in a considerable amount of time.
"It's no big deal. It's just a passing crush. It'll fade. I just need to see him doing something cringe-worthy, like chasing a ping-pong ball or something," she retorted. Her mind flashed back to her freshman year in college, replaying the image of her crush, Kevin, frantically chasing a runaway ping-pong ball at the beer-pong table. She shuddered at the memory; it had the power to extinguish any budding crush. Just ask poor Kevin.
"Okay, wow. The mental image of a grown man chasing a ping pong ball just hit me, and I got a wave of revulsion," Quentin remarked. He quickly added, "Are you planning to use the Lake Tahoe house this year? I'm wondering if I should have my cleaner turn over the bedding before you go."
"Yes! I would love to go again this year," Eden responded eagerly. Two years ago, she'd established a tradition of retreating to Quentin's cabin in Lake Tahoe. There, she would hole up in solitude to write new music. Eden's personal songwriting retreat and Quentin generously let her stay at his place.
"Sounds good. You know the code to get in," Quentin said casually.
They hung up, and Eden went back inside, intent on rounding up everyone to make their way to the main stage for their set.
"Beck move over, you are hogging the couch." Ingrid's voice carried over the trailer. Eden looked up quickly to see Beck still lounging, his leg propped up and covering all the seats. Ingrid was sitting on the edge of the couch as though touching Beck's leg would lead to instant death.
"Don't act as if you don't love it. I remember a time when you would beg me..." Beck's words were abruptly interrupted by a loud grunt. "Ouch! You are super strong for someone so wispy," Beck exclaimed, rubbing his right arm while Ingrid smirked in triumph.
Eden sighed at the sight. All was right in the world. Ingrid and Beck were back to teasing each other. It was a sight for sore eyes.
Eden spotted Ronan on his knees, rummaging in his bag. She walked over to him, and as he looked up, his green eyes seemed to pierce through her. At that moment, she couldn't help but appreciate how good he looked on his knees.
"They love to hate each other. It's like Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy but with the added fun of smartphones and advanced medicine." Eden whispered over the bickering pair on the couch. Ronan's lip turned up at her comment.
"Let's go, kids! Time to dominate another show," Eden declared to the group, clapping her hands together.
"Yes, Mommy," Finn playfully responded as he stood up from his seat.
"Gross, Finn," Eden teased, crinkling her nose at the remark.
"There is definitely something Freudian there," Ingrid muttered as she stood up from the couch. “Therapy, think about it. It does wonders," she whispered to Finn with a smirk as she stood next to him.
"Single file because clearly, you are a bunch of numbskulls, and I need to lead you to the stage like a group of kindergarteners," Eden instructed, taking charge and positioning herself at the front. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught Ronan's entertained smile. He appeared genuinely entertained by the antics, and for some reason, she couldn't help but feel pleased about it.