Charlie and Claire decided to sleep in the broken down car until daylight. Clire offered Charlie the more comfortable backseat to sleep in, but Charlie declined. So, while Claire slept comfortably across the back seats, Charlie slept up front in the driver's seat that-- like the passenger seat-- did not recline. The dawn came fast and Charlie and Claire slept until midday. Charlie awoke first, shaking Claire gently to rouse her from her sleep. Claire rubbed her eyes with a small yawn and smiled up at Charlie. "Time to go?" she sleepily asked as he helped her out of the car. He nodded and they started back towards the main road.
"So, what's it like being a celebrity?" Claire asked.
"Ot's okay... For awhile." Charlie shrugged. "But I never know who my real friends are, you know? I never know if they're just being my friend to get a backstage pass or a song or a moment in the spotlight."
"That's no good," Claire lamely said, feeling really sorry for him.
"Yeah, even my brother uses me. I'm just the 'little brother' in the band. I'm the one who keeps him from overdosing. The one who writes the songs. He wouldn't keep me in the band if I didn't do that." Charlie bitterly laughed.
"You can't think like that.... Charlie, I'm sure your brother loves you. And... you've got me as a friend, right?"
"Uh, right..." he muttered, glancing at his feet.
After reaching the highway, waved down a large minivan containing a mother and her two kids. Charlie pulled his shades out and covered his eyes with them before the woman came to a stop. Claire frowned, did he not want to be seen with her? She shook her head before asking the mother if she didn't mind giving them a ride. The mother shook her head, saying it was no problem. Claire gave the woman the beach's name and the woman began driving. The mother chit-chatted endlessly while the children gaped at the strangers in their car. The oldest child, a girl of nine years, was studying Charlie's profile with intensity. He smiled at the girl before turning away from her and looking out the window. Claire sat silently and listened to the mother talk. They pull up to an empty end of the beach and dumps Claire and Charlie off there. Claire thanked the woman before looking down the beach. They had quite a walk before them to get to the part of the beach Claire recognized and currently vacationed by. Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets, looking torn.
"Well, let's get going." Claire told him, waving for him to follow.
Charlie smiled unconvincingly before shuffling after her.
As they neared their destination, Charlie got a pained expression on his face. Claire shrugged it off, but then, when they were minutes away from turning the corner and getting back to the populated area of the beach, Charlie grabbed her arm and stopped her. "What?" Claire asked, back tracking so that she and him were face-to-face. Charlie ran a hand through his hair and removed the sunglasses from his face. He looked out towards the ocean for a minute. "What, Charlie?" Claire asked a little impatient.
Charlie bit his lip before returning his gaze to Claire. "We had fun today, didn't we?" he asked.
"Yeah, we did..." Claire answered uneasily.
"Well... I really, really like you, Claire... I do... but..." he floundered for words, fiddling with his shades.
"Just get on with it." Claire snapped guardedly.
"I don't think we should let anyone know about us." Charlie said, sounding detatched as if he was talking to someone he barely knew.
"What...?" Claire breathed, feeling as though she'd been smacked.
"I don't think anyone should know we were together. Don't tell anyone you know me and I won't tell anyone I know you." Charlie continued as if Claire hadn't spoken.
"Why?!" Claire yelled angrily.
Charlie winced and emotion returned to his voice. "I don't want you dealing with what I deal with. I don't want the papparrazzi to take over your world because... They'll change who you are." he reached out to hold her hand, but Claire recoiled.
"That's bull, Charlie, and you know it!" Claire accused.
"Claire, listen. We... Just..." the cold, detatched look came back into his eyes as he said, "Don't tell anyone. I won't. It'll be like it never happened. You never met me and I never met you."
"Good! I wish I had never met you!" Claire yelled, tears pooling in her eyes.
Charlie's eyes sparked as the emotion once again returned to him. He opened his mouth to protest, but Claire cut him short.
"No! Just stop!" Claire exclaimed, folding her arms. "You know, I thought I had misjudged you. I thought you really cared about me!"
Tears welled up in Claire's eyes and Charlie mumbled, "Claire, I do care about you... That's why this has to be done..."
"No, Charlie! I didn't misjudge you. I hit the nail on the head... You only care about YOURSELF!" she snapped, emotions breaking her voice as she jabbed a finger at him. "Why would someone as great as you want to be with a comman, average girl like me?!"
Claire turned on her heel and began to march away. Charlie called out to her. "Leave me alone!" Claire cried before racing off. Charlie sighed, walking after her. Claire reached the beach in a teary-eyed blur. She tramped through the sand and was nearly trampled by the mob of girls and reporters who had seen Charlie coming up the beach a short time after her appearance. She stopped walking and looked back. The shades were back on his face and he was smiling at the girls as they squealed his name and pleaded for his autograph. He obliged and Claire watched him scrawl his name in messy cursive on napkins and tee shirts. She watched as he took pictures with the girls. Claire wiped her eyes and watched the cameras flashing and reporters asking him countless stupid questions. His eyes met hers for a brief second in time and his smile disappeared. She turned away quickly and raced to the vacatioon house in tears. April tried to ask her something, but Claire ignored her and ran into her room, closing the door behind her. She slid down the length of the door, her body wracking with sobs. She bit her lip as she wrapped her arms around her body. She couldn't believe she was stupid enough to think he was any different. She was stupid for trusting him.
Claire loaded her bags into the taxi cab April had hailed. She looked back at the beach, unaware that a papparrazzi had just snapped a picture of her. "Come on, Claire," April called from inside the cab. Claire climbed into the back of the cab with her friend and watched the beach shrink in the distance. She and April sat in silence the whole cab ride to the airport. She plugged her headphones into her ears in the plane and gazed out the window; she didn't want to talk to April about what had happened in LA. It will be just like Charlie said. It'll be like it never happened. The ride home was miserable for both Claire and April. So were the four days that followed their homecoming. On the fifth day, April was heading out the door when a swarm of photographers and reporters ambushed her. They pointed mics in her face, yelling questions and snapping pictures. April smiled, then retreated back into the apartment. She approached Claire as she sat watching the television.
"Claire, do you know why there are reporters outside our door?!" April asked, flustered.
Claire silently shrugged.
"Claire," April pleaded, "what happened out there in LA?"
"I don't want to talk abou--" Claire stopped mid-sentence as her face came up on the television. Her face!
April gaped. "Claire?" she asked.
The image disappeared and was replaced by Charlie Pace sitting in a room with an interviewer. Claire's heart skipped a beat when she saw him. Claire and April watched the tv, transfixed by the rockstar's words.
"So, Charlie, a lot of buzz has been going on about you and this girl here." the interviewer stated, a picture of Claire coming up on the screen behind them. Charlie turned to look at it. His heart throbbed.
"That girl?" Charlie asked, turning back to face the woman. A calm smile was on his face. "Can't say I recognize her.... Maybe I signed an autograph for her, yeah?"
"Charlie," the woman droned, "people have been saying you and the girl, Claire Littleton, spent the entire day together."
"What? Well, I really don't recognize her. I never met her."
"She came all the way to LA from Sydney, Australia, to see you. And you don't know her?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't. I mean, she looks like she's a great person. I wish I'd gotten a chance to meet her." Charlie smiled, folding his hands.
"Thank you, Charlie," the woman said, looking back to the screen with a smile.
Claire flipped the television off, muttering, "Wanker," under her breatj.
"Claire? What happened?" April asked, touching her friend's shoulder comfortingly.
Tears welled up in Claire's eyes. "I know him. I knew Charlie Pace." she blubbered.
April hugged her best friend tightly. "It'll be alright," she murmured.
Days later, the reporters were still lingering around the girls' apartment door. Neither of them could get out without being bombarded with questions and bright lights. "You know what?" Claire said, standing up. "Celebrities may have to deal with this, but I don't."
She marched out the door and the reporters shoved their microphones in her face. The woman from the interview was in the front. "Claire, tell us about your weekend with Charlie Pace?" her voice was laced with sarcasm as she asked Claire this. "We want the truth."
"Bloody hell you want the truth!" Claire snapped. "All you people want is a story."
The reporters quit yelling questions and became silent, filming Claire as she said this.
"You take a good, sweet person and make them into your reality show! All of you are just using him to get something." Claire accused, tears building up in her eyes. "You just want to sell magazines and tv shows... You're disgusting.
And Charlie Pace has had to give up so much because of you people." Claire continues. "Freedom, privacy, trust... Honesty. So, you've made a celebrity, but you have wrecked the person he is. You all should be ashamed."
Claire stifled back a sob as the interviewer asked her cameraman, "Did you get all that?" After receiving a nod, the woman turns back to Claire. "Claire, who is Charlie Pace, really?"
Claire sniffed, replying, "I don't know. The Charlie Pace you know... I've never met him."