Authors Note: I own nothing. No ownership rights to Beverly Hills 90210.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The ocean, waves crashing, it is the best sound to wake up to. For nearly three months it's stirred me a wake, and I had loved it. It had transformed me into a morning person, well a much earlier morning person. Getting up walking the beach as the sky gradually becomes light, even the mornings after my most exhausting days on set I'd still wake as the sun was getting ready to show up, hinting it was coming and I'd rush to the sand. Today was no different except for waking up almost on the edge of the bed, waking up and putting clothes on while Josh smiled at me from the bed.
If he took note of the position I woke in he didn't say anything. He had grown used to me needing space to sleep, searching out the coolest part of the bed in my slumber to get comfortable. The house had air-conditioning and while on his second trip home that summer, the first trip he had completely resided with us in the beach house, we had turned the aircon up full ball on our fourth night- it hadn't helped. He had made comment the three days before, casually at first that snuggling wasn't my thing and he thought it would be. Brandon had heard on day two. He wasn't thrilled with the sleeping arrangements, but he had caught himself sounding like Dad on his first and only ever protest- he wasn't thrilled, thought he never made comment again once he heard the similarities between our father and him. When he had overheard in the kitchen Josh's observation he laughed and said Care Bear was definitely a clinger in her sleep.
The Care Bear nickname had led to him sharing how I often came into his bed in the middle of the night as a kid carrying Mr Pony and in my Care Bear pyjamas. It happened when I got scared, heard a noise or just got lonely- so he laughed and said most nights. It was a sweet story, a story that had Andrea looking at my brother with the gooey eyes that the two had begun wearing around each other since week two of our summer. Sharing a space with my brother and him with her, without the news room and competition that had always marked their friendship, travelling to the club each day for work together, essentially they had begun living in each other's pocket and neither seemed to find the space too confining. Not confining at all, evident by the end of our first month when Brandon had all but moved into her room. Josh didn't look at me with the same gooey expression on hearing the story, though it wasn't till later that he asked again about the sleeping distance.
We fell asleep curled up near each other, usually with nothing much on, and by the end of the night I was often on the edge clinging for dear life to stay on the mattress. He didn't hog the bed, he didn't chase me in his sleep pushing me there. He was the type of guy that woke pretty much in the same position he went to sleep in. It was me, in my sleep I moved away. At first I had put it down to his heat, he was a warm sleeper. We tried just a sheet- it didn't work. We tried the air conditioning at a number of settings- I woke with a sore throat, the producer's weren't happy. Eventually, he had just accepted that I was no longer a cuddlier; he assumed I had grown to like my own space. Maybe I had. Though I think he assumed it was nearly a decade ago that I had begun the transition, I didn't correct his thinking. Remnants from my time with Dylan or the scars that had formed from it were not his favourite topic of conversation.
He was absolutely still supportive, and lovely, but he had I think at times felt he was getting the short straw with me. He was missing out on a few things he really wanted because of my scar's from a relationship past. I knew it wasn't fair, but even knowing it and not liking it, didn't change how my body subconsciously reacted in my sleep, or how I wasn't so eager to say I love you as constantly as I once had. I now said it rarely. I did love Josh. I loved him and trusted him, I just didn't feel the need to be so vocal anymore. It was like how I loved him, it was a quiet love, a kind love, it wasn't a scream from the rooftops or in the middle of a large crowd at the Beach Club love. It was… mature. I think that's the word for it.
There definitely was a lot of maturity. I understood his crazy travelling and seeing pictures in surf magazines of him winning a heat or placing in competition surrounded by girls in bikinis. I understood and didn't get nervous or jealous. When his flights would get canceled and he'd have to go straight to the next stop on the circuit instead of coming home or one of his sponsors needed him to do some promotions in between, I understood. The summer I saw Josh as a welcome little surprise gift, I grew not to expect his arrival but enjoyed it when it happened. He wasn't as zen about it. He'd call every night, even if he mainly spoke to the answering machine, or Brandon or Steve- my film schedule was unpredictable. When we did catch each other he'd be frustrated at weather delaying flights, at demanding sponsors, he'd even taken to being angry at the competition organisers- he didn't find it a needed element in the sport that girls in bikinis needed to hand out the trophies. I always reassured him it was fine, that any time off set I was being driven crazy by Steve, Kyle and Tony, and if our schedules aligned my brother and Andrea.
It's how the summer had panned out. It had been exciting, stressful, and with Josh it had been lovely.
Once I had thrown on my walking clothes, and Josh was no longer enjoying the show he decided to finally get up and grab a pair of board shorts. He'd have a morning surf while I walked the beach. It had become the norm when he'd be in town. He had learnt early on that I loved my morning walks, and that no amount of promise of pleasure would get me to stay in bed and wrap myself up with him. It was another thing he assumed was just my personality, he believed I liked sex he saw that I did, but he assumed I wasn't a person who could get lost in it. That hours of getting lost in each other, days spent in bed, hours of making out, of touching, he believed none of it was my thing. That I wasn't a every night person, and during the morning or day was a rare occasion.
This one I didn't know what was right.
Dylan and I had at first dealt with and got through a lot of hang ups from me. I was taught it was serious, the Aid's campaigns had supported that, my pregnancy scare had slapped me over the face with that. The consequence more than the act had always played on my mind until something replaced it. Once Iris left, after we had seen how much we hated being a part after that first summer, those fears were replaced with another. I had known what it was like to not touch him for weeks on end, to see him flirt with Emily… after that my fear of the what could happen were replaced with my fear that I'd never get to enjoy it again, that I might not feel his hands on me forever. When we had got back together and after Iris left, we had been a as much as possible couple.
Though now living in the aftermath of my once biggest fear coming true, I didn't know if my more reasonable craving was the repercussion of that shockwave, or if it was just because it wasn't Dylan touching me.
Josh was really getting the short straw.
"Darlin, you up for breakfast after this? We could go to that café with the good bagels."
I had stopped filming, a week ago. The production had run a little longer as the network had decided ten episodes plus the pilot. It was a half season run currently, but they'd view the numbers and confirm by the broadcasting of episode seven if more was to be made; everyone was sure it would get picked up. The advanced screenings of the pilot, for the focus groups had been amazing and had led to the request for the two more episodes. Teens and young adults had been the biggest audiences to rave about it, that market I had learned was the pot of gold market. They consumed their shows differently, bought merchandise, went out and bought the actors wardrobe's. To get interest in that market was catching the rainbow. It had meant that our wrap party had felt more like we were going off on vacation- a late summer break, rather than the end of the show. The unknown was now to see if we could hook them from launch to episode seven, and even continue to grow numbers with each episode, if we did we had a strong shot at both a full season one and two.
Since I had stopped filming and had become a beach bum, choosing which café, what book to read, what meal to make for the house had become my big life decisions. It was nice. It was needed after months of learning the business through a baptism by fire. A baptism that Samantha had been my rock throughout. She explained everything, taught me that while my days were long the crew worked hours before I got there and hours after I left- holding them up was the biggest no no. She taught me how to embrace the endless waiting around on set and not get frustrated by it. How to use it, to learn what everyone did. Learn the lighting, the camera angles, hang out with the wardrobe people understand fashion and learn my style and that of my characters, get pointers from the make up artists and hair people for my everyday life in case photographers started capturing me on the street. She taught me that part of my role was to be a team member on set, but more importantly to be the best actor in front and behind the camera. The show being successful employed all these people, no one ever stopped watching a show because of bad lighting or hair, they'd stop watching because of an actor- they'd stop watching if they didn't like me as both the character and as Brenda the person. She told me that was my job, on set and off- my job was to be personable, respect the privilege, and understand that people counted on me knowing that.
"The bagel place would be great. You sure you have time though? Your shuttle is coming at nine."
He kissed my lips, "if you don't walk too long I think we'll be fine."
I didn't walk too long I kept it short. Returning when the sun was up but not yet beaming it's heat at you. As I approached the sand out the front of the house Josh took the wave in and met me. Like normal as soon as he'd see me he'd kiss me, even with his lips salty and wet. He hated our distance, it made him cling to me when he was in town.
Breakfast was as always good here, I'd miss this place next week when we'd have to move out. My musings were interrupted by Josh.
"You know Darlin, the beaches of Southern France are beautiful you'd have a great time exploring the villages, popping into Spain for Tapa's."
He had said it all while covering my fingers with his hand from across the table. This wasn't his first attempt to get me to go with him. "We have seven day's left in the house and we are still trying to find a place to move to. Leaving that decision to Brandon and Steve would be horrible."
"Andrea could handle it, I'm sure even though she's accepted a dorm room on campus she'll be staying with you guy's more than anywhere else."
"True. Though she pretends that the dorm offer was too good to turn down, and Brandon well I think my brother likes the idea that they'll have a room on campus and off. I'm pretending his excitement on that is because it will be a quiet place to study during long breaks between lectures."
"Oh Darlin, that's cute. I like how both you guy's like to pretend that neither of you are enjoying an active night life, especially when neither of those two are quiet about it."
My hands over my ears and look of disgust has him laughing at me, he leans across the small table and kisses all over my face.
When I'm finally stopped wanting to disinfect my brain- I pretend that those noises were movies, nothing more. He brings up the other ongoing conversation one more time. "Are you sure that I can't move in as well? It's not like I'll be around all the time and you can have the largest part of the wardrobe- hell I'll take two draws only."
"Josh we've been over this. It would be one weird for you to pay rent for hardly never being there, and I don't want to get into it with my parents. You'll be always welcome to stay, though I think they are saying more location shooting in San Fransisco will happen if we get picked up. But if I'm in town-"
"I can be a guest, I know." He sighs and looks at the water, "I don't want to be a guest though. I like waking up next to you. I like going to sleep next to you. I hate having to travel so much that I don't get to do it more, and now even when I am home I will still be living between my Dad's place and yours- out of a bag."
"It's too soon to live together, I've told you that I'm not ready for that, and I want to have a normal few months living with my friends like college kids do." I didn't mention my hesitation on that. I didn't mention I was considering that even doing a semester would be pointless. My agent had wanted me to go on screen test for movies, or maybe so a fall play in the interim rather than college. I wasn't sure what I wanted.
"Okay, okay. I'm not going to win. I'd beg but I know that won't change your mind."
As I walked back to the deck after the shuttle had left I find my brother reading the morning newspaper. "He got away okay?"
"Yep." I looked at him with his coffee, orange juice and newspaper- he was clearly set up for a lazy morning. "Andrea still sleeping?"
"No she left while you guys were at breakfast, it's her grandma's big therapy session this morning. They want to see if she has gained more mobility back in her leg after her fall, now that the swelling and bruising has gone down." Her grandma's health issues were the main reason she was staying in town, though the full scholarship from CU was also a motivational factor. Both her and Brandon swore their relationship was not a consideration in her not attending Yale, and knowing how practical Andrea is I believed her.
Once I've stolen the entertainment pages Brandon and I fall into a comfortable silence, one that's not broken until our blonde roommate stubbles out of bed.
"Crap, is it lunchtime already?"
I smile at my brother, Steve had embraced a relaxed summer. With all of his roommates working, his girlfriend working, he had slept late most day's. "Funny, Brando and here I am being all domestic and bringing out the mail and this is the thanks I get."
"Domestic. Steve you walked nine feet out the door to the mailbox I'm sure to collect a girlie magazine or something-" He throws a stack of mail items in front of us keeping only one.
"No. It was to collect my personal invitation to Rush Week, my legacy invite." He hold's it up as if it's sacred, a badge- an envelope of honour, then he plops down onto a chair and begins to look at the envelope and invite some more. "Oh under the Chinese menu I think I saw another postcard. Can't wait to hear where Grumpo has been this week in his quest to depress the world."
Brandon indicates to the pile, asking if I wanted to go first I shake my head. He'll read it and then I'll read it eventually, I wasn't in a rush as I knew somehow they always ended up in my bedside table draw in my copy of the play love letters. I didn't know how they ended up there, it wasn't like I rushed to put them there but after I found two sitting on my desk and I knew Josh had just landed I slipped them into the book. He knew about the postcards had read them himself but I think he assumed like everyone else that they ended up in the garbage after a few day's- they were supposed to. I had meant to put them there. It just didn't seem right, every time I attempted it didn't seem right.
Dylan had stayed with Iris for the first half of summer, until he got waitlisted for Berkeley and according to Brandon when his psychologist suggested he have a break from the intensive therapy. Seemingly, she was going away for a family vacation but she also thought Dylan needed to let some of his realisations settle, sink in before they continued. Dylan had decided then that it was time to go travelling. Iris told me he vetoed Europe, he associated France, Paris specifically with the destruction of us. Australia was in winter same with Africa. Therefore, Asia had become his destination, specifically, the island nations around the Pacific is where he had so far spent most of his time.
Today's, card from the image looked to be from Japan. "He's coming back. He's stopping back in Hawaii on his way back- actually from the date of this he should be there now. He's spending a week with Iris, I guess that means she's no longer residing in Beverly Hills."
Iris and I wrote letter's and since Dylan had left we had started speaking on the phone. "Yeah, she's going to come back more often, from what she told me that if Dylan decided to return to LA she'd fly in for a week once a month. She doesn't want to crowd him but she doesn't want to abandon him and her friends." I didn't include her putting me after Dylan in that list.
Brandon looks up at me, he's checking that I'm okay. He's looking at me with calculating eyes, seeing if I'm hiding anything. He must not get a read. "You okay about him returning?"
Steve even stops his goggling at his invite and looks at me. I stand and roll my eyes, as if the question was ridiculous. As I collect the cups to bring into the kitchen neither of my two brother's look away from me. I sigh, "I'm fine. Beverly Hills is his home. We are his friends, his family, I assumed he'd be back."
As I carry the items into the kitchen I try and tell myself that it was true, I knew he'd be back and I did. I'd be fine being around, I'd be fine seeing him. Even if I hadn't spoken to him in months, I kept telling myself I'd be fine.
We hadn't spoken, Brandon and him had but not me and him. The postcards though were addressed to his Minnesota twin's. He never wrote them to me personally, they were light, sometimes funny, and seemed to be just snip it's from his trip, but... but I knew he wrote them for me. It's why I couldn't throw them out. Each had something in there just for me even if no one else saw.
Fiji is amazing, it's humid as hell during the day but at night the temperature is pretty similar to Baja. Sadly, unlike my favourite cross the border town, there are no musicians here walking around the restaurants playing 80s classics.
Thailand is green an lush. Insects are massive, but the beauty of the beaches are worth the constant reapplying of insect spray. The people are so friendly, even with me not knowing the language I've been able to get by. The food is incredible- it's no frozen lard and hydrogenated bean oil but even then it's still amazing, spicy but amazing.
Singapore is crazy busy, humid like stepping out into a brick wall of solid air. Orchid Road is the main strip and is full of designer store's as well as bargain basement cheap ones. I managed to get a haircut, pick up a few new shirts- all in the blue and green family, and found some on my favourite scents here that are ridiculously inexpensive. I bought so many bottles hopefully customs has no issue.
Dylan didn't wear cologne, well occasionally he did for formal occasions. He had the same bottle pretty much as long as I had known him, and that's because I gave it to him for our first Valentine's Day. It was still over half full when we broke up. He never changed it or took to wearing it daily, he had liked the idea that all our big moments he'd smell the same- he wore it to Prom. I knew Dylan didn't have a favourite scent for himself that needed replenishing, he did though have a favourite one for me. He had bought it for me randomly junior year, and every time he noticed the bottle on my chest of draws in my room getting close to empty I'd find a new one there a few day's later.
As I stacked the dishwasher with the cups and the plates that have been left in the sink, I kept telling myself it would be fine, I would be fine. Dylan returning, I'd be fine.
We were friends, family, it wasn't a big deal at all.