25. Sienna
Sienna
Iwake up the next day around noon, pour coffee for myself in the kitchen, and disappear outside before I bump into anyone.
The view is unlike anything I’ve seen before. The sky is clear, and the sun beats down into the valley. It’s gorgeous—the forests, the pond twinkling in the sun.
I inhale through my nose, out through my mouth. The air is crisp, and I love not having to share it with anyone else for a few moments.
I hike the rest of the way up the hill, entering into the forest. Birdsong fills the air.
Twigs snap under my boots as I venture deeper into the forest. A giant pile of wood is up ahead, an axe abandoned next to it. This must be where the guys store their firewood.
I smile to myself, but then realize why I’m out here.
To avoid them.
To take advantage of this beautiful place before it’s time to go back home.
A wave of nausea passes through me when I unpack what home means.
Seeing my nutritionist again. Facing the pissed costume designer. Learning my lines. Shooting a new movie and the immense exhaustion that comes with that.
I hate waking up at 3 AM. Sitting in the hair and makeup trailer for three hours is painful, and not just for my ass.
I’m not allowed to move. I have to sit still and read my lines.
If I’m lucky, I’ll be seated next to a friend.
But there’s only so much you can gossip about with producers and other actors present.
My life consists of 3 AM wakeup calls. Fourteen-hour days. Being on your feet all day, refilming scenes until the director is satisfied. And when I’m not on set for weeks or months at a time, I’m glammed up on the red carpet, acting. Again.
My feet are always killing me. The podiatrist I see says I need to lay off the high heels and start wearing sneakers. I’m sure she’s onto something.
But wearing sneakers is bad for my reputation.
I never wear sneakers. The only time I allow it is when I’m heading to the gym in a cute Alo set.
I continue walking through the forest. Weeds are everywhere. I spend most of my time tackling them and wading through blades of grass that reach as high as my hips. But it’s fun. I like the adventurous feel of it.
I sniff the air like a crazy person, taking in huge whiffs of pine. That has to be one of the best things I’ve ever smelled.
I come to a stop, waves of worry suddenly taking over my nervous system. What if I’m seen again? A team of paparazzi was up here just last night. There could be another one on its way right now.
I haven’t checked my phone yet today—just can’t bring myself to do it. Jules will have called for sure. She’ll want to arrange a meeting and do some damage control.
No doubt Knox and Cash will be plastered all over the news today. The camera team got plenty of footage to paint them in a bad light. Aggressive behavior. Assault. I can just see the headlines.
Since being up here, I’ve realized the worst types of aggression are actually very quiet. So quiet that people tend to mistake the good for the bad.
And what Knox and Cash did for me last night was good. Really good, nobody has ever stuck up for me like that before.
I press a hand on my heart. It feels heavy, like it’s taken over my entire body.
When I came here, I thought Knox, Eli and Cash were the hunters.
I was sure they were axe murderers. Why else would they choose to live a million miles away from the rest of the world?
You don’t decide to live on the top of a mountain, an hour away from grocery stores, for no reason.
But I get it now. The real world sucks.
The sun beams down on me. It feels so wonderful to be out here but it’s time to turn around and face reality.
I start back toward the cabin, wading through the long grass, ducking under branches. I take my time. There’s no rush. I’ve been moving at a breakneck speed for ten years straight, barely stopping to breathe. I deserved a break.
But that break has reached an end.
Maybe I can change the narrative like Jules suggested. It’s the only option I have left. I can’t stay here any longer. All I’m doing is stretching out the days to avoid having to say goodbye.
But that, in turn, will only make the goodbyes harder.
It’s time to go. Men tend to leave me first. I have to be the one to initiate it this time, to break the pattern before it breaks me.
Thankfully, the cabin is empty when I make it back inside. I finish slurping coffee and return to Knox’s room. I can’t believe I haven’t checked my phone even once today. It definitely helps to sleep in until noon.
Anxiety claws at my chest when I finally reach for my phone on the nightstand. I’m sick of feeling this way. I guess that’s why I need to flip the narrative and do something different.
“Be proud of your ass,” Jules had said over the phone. “It’s a good ass.”
I do have a good ass.
I open my phone notifications. There are so many that I go numb as I scroll through. Overdue meeting reminders. Texts and missed calls from Jules.
I navigate over to social media and watch the footage from last night. Knox is launching the cameraman down the hill. I watch in awe a second time as he brings the man off the ground, threatening him.
“Speak to Sienna like that again and I break your jaw.”
“Are you filming?”
The footage dramatically cuts out when Cash gets involved.
Everyone’s reposting the video, adding their two cents.
“I think he’s a gentleman.”
“Sienna needs to get away from these men right away.”
“Is this guy even human?”
“No. He’s Ironman.”
“Poor Sienna! They’re clearly taking advantage of her.”
“Someone needs to act on this.”
“Yeah. Get her out of there.”
As expected, people are trying to identify Cash and Knox, but they don’t seem to be having much luck.
I resume scrolling through my notifications, stalling when I see another message from Holden.
HOLDEN GRAY: Ring me when you get the chance.
My throat tightens. He has got to be kidding. I ignored his first message, just like he used to do to me all the time.
I used to text him throughout the day multiple times, and he’d leave me on delivered for hours. Fucking hours. It made me wanna bang my head against the wall.
I kept my phone on silent for that reason, so it’d be a surprise checking notifications, seeing if he’d replied. He never did. I’d get anxious checking.
And when he’d finally reply, he’d only give me one word. Two if I was lucky. But I didn’t care. I was too high on the dopamine, ecstatic that he had actually replied, to care about what he actually said back to me.
Funny. Now he’s getting a taste of his own medicine. Hurts to go hours without receiving a response, doesn't it?
I open the message thread and see that he’s messaged seven fucking times. Full sentences and everything.
Sure, I’ll give him a call. But I’ll only be able to tolerate the bastard with alcohol in my system.
I exit Knox’s room and enter the living area, raiding the cupboards until I come across some whiskey—the same bottle from when we played Never Have I Ever.
Holden wouldn’t dream of playing that game. Said it was childish and inappropriate—two adjectives that don’t really go hand in hand.
I’m sure he never wanted to play because he was so basic and didn’t want anyone to find out. Not like he had any reason to be embarrassed. Everyone in LA is bland. I was too before I came up here.
I unscrew the cap and almost choke when I smell the stuff. It’s like being hit in the face. Hell yeah.
I grab a glass and fill it up, taking generous gulps.
I missed out on so much fun when I was younger. While people from back home were getting drunk every weekend at parties, I was working my ass off. Sometimes, if I was lucky, Holden would give me one very diluted martini to sip on. But I was only allowed one and couldn’t down it.
“People are watching your every move, Sienna. You’re new to this industry. When you make mistakes and act out of line, people remember.”
What a sad, boring life…
That I now have to go back to.
I guzzle the whiskey, feeling a little optimistic. What if I flip the narrative completely? I go from being Sienna Lane, who can do no wrong—perfect body, perfect hair, perfect face—to a party girl.
How’s that for having some agency and taking control of your life? Ass out. Sleep with whoever you want. Getting drunk every weekend. No shame.
“Sienna?” Eli walks into the room when I’m in the middle of downing whiskey. He looks pointedly at the clock. “Isn’t it a little early for that?”
“Chill out, why don’t you? It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
“Have you even eaten today?”
“Nope.” I peer over the glass, checking out Eli. He’s shirtless again. And, damn, those muscles... I take another big chug of whiskey. “Has anyone ever told you that your abs look like a cheese grater?”
“Not exactly,” Eli smirks and shoves his hands into his camo pants pockets.
“Great. I’m glad to be the first.” Jesus. This alcohol is going straight to my head. I sit on the barstool and tilt my head to the side, assessing him from different angles.
He’s ripped, no matter what angle I look at him from.
So fucking ripped.
Heat gushes between my legs.
“If you keep leaning back like that, you’re gonna fall,” says Eli, walking closer. “And maybe stop drinking whiskey. Eat something first. We can all enjoy a glass after dinner, you know, when Henry’s asleep.”
“Ah.” I tap my nose, picking up what he’s putting down. “But I don’t think I can wait that long.”
Eli clenches his jaw.
“What if I want you to fuck me now?”
“Sienna.” Eli looks at me, raising his eyebrows. “C’mon, girl, no more whiskey. It’s not even dark outside yet.” He gestures out the window, the sky streaking red as the sun starts to set.
“Loosen up! Have some fun.” I hear the words, but my voice doesn’t sound like my own. How fucking strong is this stuff? I cling to the glass and take a breath. “I have a very important phone call to make to a certain someone. I needed a bit of liquid courage.”
“Is that all? Nothing to do with last night?” Eli levels me a glare. “Sienna,” he begins, “you know alcohol isn’t going to fix anything.”