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Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.
60: Don't Say Anything
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Friday, February 24 (cont.)
Paparazzi mayhem awaited in front of our gates. Cars parked illegally on the sides of the road and a dense crowd lingered with professional cameras hiding people's faces, clicking away the second they detected us in the distance. Waiting for our gates to open, Edward pulled over to the side of the road, and my palms began to sweat as the paparazzi walked, jogged, and ran toward us. Passing cars beeped at them.
Edward turned his head when our wooden gates unlocked.
"Whatever you do, don't let go!"
I held my breath as we maneuvered through the throng—shouting, yelling, taking photos so close that their lights blinded us—and when a man grabbed my shoulder as we came to a standstill, Edward turned and twisted the man's wrist away from me.
"You do not touch her," he snarled, half-shouting.
The man released me.
The sharp click-click-click of the cameras could be heard over the purr of the motorcycle, and Edward squeezed my arm on his stomach before Emmett, Ismail, Álvaro, and an unknown man, all looking appropriately mean, forced the crowd to part. We drove into our driveway.
No sooner had I stumbled off the bike than Edward tore off his helmet, stood between me and the paparazzi, and whispered, "Did he hurt you?"
He didn't hold my hand or kiss me but his concern filled me with hope. "No. Thank you."
The gates closed under the watchful eyes of the men who'd helped us. Rattled by the experience, I thanked Garrett's bodyguards and Emmett before they introduced me to my newest security detail, a quiet 6'3'' bodybuilder type called Travis Holt with hair so straight it probably qualified as 0 on the curliness scale.
Edward stood in awe of the turquoise sports car parked next to Garrett's Cadillac. My stomach flipped.
"Who else is here?"
The front door flipped open.
Dad squeezed me into a hug before he held my shoulders and gave me a near teary-eyed look, full of remorse and meaning. My hopes and fears and expectations reflected in his expression. I sneaked a glance at the road when mom embraced me btu recoiled when I saw that the paparazzi on the other side of the road had a view of our porch.
My parents rushed us indoors before we slipped off our shoes. Dad took Edward under his wing, talking to him quietly as we walked to the living room. Garrett looked concerned but irritated as he hugged me in the hallway, making sure I was alright.
But the sight in the living room grinded my brain to a halt.
Mike was leaning against a window sill in our carpeted but couch-less room, scrolling on his phone. Rosalie and Tanya sat by our kitchen island with two unknown men buried in laptops in front of them. Tanya held a phone between her shoulder and her ear, looking for something in her handbag.
The silence of our arrival put the room in a chokehold.
I had worked with these people for more than a year, and yet, their presence in our not-yet-furnished new home felt otherworldly.
"Look who survived," Mike said, pocketing his phone. I stood, speechless, squeezing Edward's wrist.
"Was it my fault?" I asked Tanya.
"Not unless you had access to the teaser." Mike pushed himself off the window sill. "But was it intentional? That's my question."
"I told you, how could it have been intentional if Rose and I didn't know about it?" Tanya asked back.
"Might leave a better impression with a director and a producer vehemently denying it was intentional. Leaks are an amazing marketing strategy. Just look at what happened to GTA."
"March 24th is a significant date for Underground Memories," Tanya argued, looking but not sounding pissed off. "Today is not. Why would the studio leak it on a random Friday?"
"But it's not random," one of Garrett's bodyguards, Álvaro, interrupted in his heavy Portuguese accent. "February 24th is the day Nala and Mathys start their journey."
All eyes fell on the man, and in my gut, I felt that he was right. Fuck.
"No, it isn't," Tanya argued, straightening. "The book doesn't say the date."
"It does if you calculate backwards from other events."
Tanya stared.
"Filho da puta," (Son of a bitch,) she cursed, dropping her phone on the counter, giving up on whoever she'd been trying to reach. "You're saying there's a fair chance the studio is making us—Bella—pay the duck."
I shifted. "I don't know what that means, but—it really wasn't my fault?"
Tanya exhaled, wrapping her fingers around her side-braid. "No," she replied quietly, eyes shifting to Edward.
I'd forgotten he was there.
Edward stood inches from me, chewing his gum, posture tense and eyes alert. Mild panic filled me when he removed his wrist from my hand, but I could've cried when he slipped his palm in mine. Unable to express how touched I was, I looked up at his intimidating profile and squeezed his hand.
"Sorry," I whispered before raising my voice. "Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Edward. Edward, this is—"
"Mike," Mike interrupted, smiling, shaking Edward's hand. "Mel C here has been giggling at the mention of you for, like, a month. Girl wears her heart in your hoodies." Mike took out his phone. "But man, my brother's gonna flip when he hears that Bella's dating you. He's a big fan. He's in the mid-thousands, nowhere near your score, but he loves chess. You mind a selfie?"
Edward, speechless, barely managed to acknowledge Mike's words with a nod before Mike took a photo with him. "Hey, I have a smaller project in the summer where I play a meth addict, you mind if I tag along for a few—"
I slapped his arm.
"Ow!" Mike stepped away from me, taking in my murderous eyes. "I'll pay you, obviously. A lot. No reason to—ow!"
"What's wrong with you?" I asked, dread filling me as I locked eyes with an incredulous, pretending-not-to-be-hurt Edward. Had I told Mike that Edward's dad was a meth addict? Tanya had known. Was it common knowledge on set?
Shit.
I wanted to beg for Edward's forgiveness but, based on his closed, intimidating expression, he wouldn't have been receptive to it even if we'd been alone.
"Hi. I'm Rose," our producer interrupted with a smile. "Bella and her parents won't shut up about what a brilliant boy she's snatched up. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Thank you, Rose. That's how you greet my genius boyfriend.
Edward gaped at her casual handshake, no doubt having either had Rose's swimsuit posters up on his walls or having friends who did.
"Likewise," Edward muttered, and I was so proud of how his voice didn't shake when it was clear from his eyes that he was having an out-of-body experience. I wanted to hug him.
"Tanya." Our director offered her hand across the counter. "I can't imagine how surreal today must've been for you. Bella's been worried."
Edward cast me a glance but all he said was, "Edward. Nice to meet you."
Garrett drew Rose and my parents into a discussion about my future security, but I couldn't participate because Tanya half-threw a stack of papers on our side of the counter. "I circled what's still relevant from this one—" She pulled a stapled document on the side. "And I printed out a copy of Bella's NDA for the second season." Tanya assessed Edward. "You take them, you sign them."
"Yes, ma'am."
"It is in Bella's best interest that you keep your mouth shut even if you guys break up. Do you understand?"
Edward closed his eyes and touched his barbell but nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
Tanya pulled out another stapled document but slid that one in front of me. "Your updated contract for the second season." She leaned closer, glanced at my parents who were in the middle of a discussion, and lowered her voice. "No pressure, but the eyes on this contract are… rapidly multiplying. Should we be worried?"
The way she said it, the way she looked at my parents, the words she chose—the realization of how much pressure my parents must've been protecting me from staggered me.
"No." I folded the contract. "I'll get it back to you on Monday."
The two men sitting behind their laptops were, apparently, from the VFX department, and they had the strongest argument against an intentional leak: the released teaser had a green-screen shot in it. NorthDust Studios had put them to deadline-sensitive work today, hoping to release the teaser on their official channel the moment it was ready. They ended up in our kitchen because Tanya had been with them when she heard that Edward had taken off with me (to an unknown location), and she refused to allow the release of the teaser before knowing that I was okay.
It was kind of sweet in a disturbed way. Had she thought that Edward would've dropped me in a ditch or crashed his bike? I didn't ask.
When Garrett sent his bodyguards to stand by the front door, I asked, "Not that I mind, but… why are you all here?"
Rose smiled, Mike laughed, and Tanya finally caught whoever she'd been trying to call and disappeared in the hallway.
My parents had been minutes behind Edward and me as we raced to school. Fearing that we'd prefer to hide for the entire day, Emmett and my parents had called everyone to help them figure out significant places that could've offered protection or solitude for us.
Garrett, not yet knowing anything about our escape from our schoolmates and the paparazzi, reached our new house first. He was ready to offer protection but arrived to an empty house. (I could tell he'd had a fight with my parents but I didn't ask.) Rose, living near Mike, saved him from an onslaught of paparazzi after his address was discovered. The headline we'd read about Mike confirming that 'nobody on set' had known about Garrett being my father was literally the only question he'd answered before sitting in Rose's car. They headed to my parents' place after realizing Edward and I had gone missing.
Sadly, they'd also taken half of Atlanta's paparazzi with them, but you couldn't have it all. I was touched, though. By the way my parents doted on Edward and me, shoving breakfast our way, they must've been worried sick, and during a lull in the conversation, dad leaned against the counter beside us and asked,
"Are you both all right?"
His words were quiet but everyone seemed to be waiting for our answer. Edward chewed his sandwich with unprecedented slowness, not meeting my eyes.
"As much as can be expected," I hedged, heart breaking at Edward's stiffness.
Everyone except my parents universally agreed that I'd need 24/7 security for a while even with a security alarm, and their relief at our return began to show through. Maybe they'd held back because they were afraid to imply that they didn't trust Edward, but they also didn't know him. Had my only experience of my boyfriend been the tense, silent, intimidating man next to me, I might've also imagined him to be capable of dreadful things.
Except he wasn't. He was the sweetest boyfriend and I didn't know how to get him alone to apologize for everything.
Today was the first time Edward had skipped school since he was in third grade. In third grade. He was so responsible, so painfully conscientious, he asked my parents if he should've returned to school regardless of everything. Nobody in the house, including all bodyguards, thought that that was a good idea, so dad called Edward's gramps to ask him to write a note or call the school to excuse him for the day.
But based on how guilty and stressed Edward looked after gramps agreed to do that, I wondered if we should've let him to go back, attention be damned.
Would I be able to go back? Were my parents and I in denial, like everyone suggested?
It was a surreal morning full of jokes and laughter and little talks about what the internet was saying about it all. Rose and Mike discussed our home like our lack of furniture was some meaningful avant-garde fashion statement. Emmett had been practically rendered mute around Rose and marched out of the room whenever his tics got worse. Mom and dad looked at me like my life was over, talking to me without their usual teasing and making me feel like the world had changed. And it had. I'd put my phone to charge and it had miraculously turned on, but I avoided my social media because that would've made it all final.
I wasn't ready for this to be final. It took all my willpower to refuse my curiosity, but I didn't want to admit that my life had changed, overnight.
And through it all, I caught Edward looking at me with an incredulous, absent-minded sadness in his gaze. I gulped back how much it terrified me.
The VFX men who ignored our talking and answered important calls like nobody's business got the teaser fixed before noon. Everyone except Mike and us had seen the leaked teaser, but nonetheless, we gathered near the TV (that dad had mounted according to the TV stand that hadn't arrived yet) to watch its now-official premiere.
Dad snapped a few photos of us all, sitting and standing in front of the TV. Edward leaned against the wall. As grateful as I was that he hadn't let go of my hand, I yearned to step back against his body and have him wrap his arms around me. I didn't. He was already supporting me more than he was comfortable with, and I appreciated his presence beyond what I was able to show him.
"You don't have to stay if you don't want spoilers," I whispered, already cringing at the idea of having to watch myself on screen.
Edward pulled his bottom lip in his mouth and tilted his head. He didn't have to say it for me to understand. One did not simply miss an opportunity to watch a trailer premiere with Michael Newton, Garrett Kamwanga and Rosamund Aroztegi Hale.
The trailer began with Yamamï whispering a prophesy over a blank screen before it cut to Nala, a mute healer slave, feared for her ability to hear the last words of the dead.
Nala spoke with her eyes and gestures. The trailer kept a quiet tension around her struggles and her sale to Mathys' lawyer mother in stark contrast to loud scenes starring the irritable Mathys learning his craft as an arrogant, inexperienced warrior. They met. His mother explained their mission. Mathys refused outright. Three days later, the resentful young man and the quiet slave walked outside of the city, pretending to belong to either faction of the civil war until they crossed a river dividing the human-made world from the natural and mythic.
Quiet, scenic shots of their journey interspersed with their struggles—muggings, fires, fights, strange creatures. Mathys' loudness, Nala's silence. They got separated. Both rejoiced until Mathys found Nala in a village, mistreated as a slave, and proved she was his. Nala appreciated and resented his interference, but all she had were her eyes and expressions.
Abunyips attacked them in a bog. Mathys' pushed Nala underwater, and she set off the terrifying last words of thousands of creatures who'd died in the bog.
Nala woke up by a bonfire to a visibly shaken Mathys, more from having nearly lost her than from the voices she'd caused, and fire reflected in her eyes as she wrapped his make-do blanket closer to herself and whispered her first words in a hoarse, unused voice, "I didn't mean to."
The trailer cut off.
Our little crowd burst into whoops and clapping, exclamations of goosebumps and wonder that the teaser barely covered a third of the book (or the show), praise for our performances and CGI. My teary-eyed dad hugged me before we formed a standing circle in the living room, chatting, goofing around, questioning those involved about different choices that had been made. I felt a strange sense of intimidating kinship with and loyalty for these world-class people around me, starting and ending with my parents and Edward. I worked my ass off on the project but I'd always felt slightly removed from the others, partly because my parents hovered around me and partly because my closest colleagues had already made a name for themselves, they knew who they were and what they wanted. I didn't. Not really.
I'd walked into a billion-dollar lottery with the project—I was lucky to be close to the right age for the character, lucky to live near Atlanta, lucky to have already been a huge fan of the books—but I hadn't realized how much I'd needed to feel like I belonged with them. We were going to have to support each other through the pressure and insanity of the next five or six or seven years. They had all, without question, rushed to our home when they heard that I might've been missing, worried and eager to help. Whatever their flaws or mine, I had a lot to be grateful for.
Listening to the conversations around us, Edward squeezed my hand. He was still tense, but awe, fear and wonder glinted in his eyes as he whispered, "She doesn't speak in your voice."
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Garrett asked, and I explained my approach to a character who'd spent her entire life mute, and it was pretty insane that the entire room listened in silence, as if my words held value.
…
Edward motioned for me to stay by the entrance after my colleagues left. He must've felt even more overwhelmed than he looked because he'd declined lunch (unheard of). Fear twisted in my gut when he sat at the bottom of the staircase. I sat beside him. He rested his forearms on his thighs and ran his palms over his head, back and forth, searching for the words I could see in his eyes.
"I'm sorry—"
For Mike? For ambushing him with a roomful of famous people? For allowing this to happen to begin with?
Edward silenced me with a look.
"Don't," he replied, not angry but not kind. Just matter-of-fact. "Not today."
Agreeing, I bit my fingernails as I waited for the other shoe to drop. I felt his nearness with alarming affection.
"I'll go to gramps's for tonight," Edward continued, his voice low but clear. "I'll be away all weekend."
"Okay."
Sitting on the second step of our staircase, I watched him walk around, packing his backpack and sharing a few words with my parents before he put on his shoes. I suppressed the urge to jump into his arms and give him a kiss worth remembering.
The day had been filled with terror and awe and bubbling excitement about an endeavor that wasn't ours anymore, and I didn't know how to fit my heartbreak into this day. It was otherworldly; it didn't fit.
Edward looked at me when he was about to throw his backpack on. I attempted a smile. He dropped his bag and crouched in front of me, taking my hand. Our eyes locked.
"Don't hurt yourself," he said before he put my bleeding thumb in his mouth.
"I didn't realize."
Edward scoffed and took my hand in his, careful not to touch my injury. His eyes searched mine with a bittersweet intensity before he pressed his lips against my hand. Heat threatened to overwhelm my throat as I touched his stubbly cheek. He licked his lips.
"I can't promise—"
"I know," I interrupted, ignoring the sting in my eyes. I wanted to wrap him in my heart and keep him forever. I wanted to lie in his naked arms all night. I wanted his love and laughter and future beside me.
Frozen on his spot, Edward pressed another lingering kiss on my knuckles.
"It's okay," I assured, swallowing the lump in my throat. "If you realize you don't—" I inhaled a shuddering breath. "I'll understand, but—don't ghost me, okay? Just… just let me know. Please."
"Okay," Edward replied in a hoarse voice, and the possibility of never getting to kiss him again made me lean closer, squeeze his neck and press my lips against his. Even surprised, Edward returned my kiss with equal fervor, awkward as our positions were. I savored his scent and the feel of his tight grip on my jaw until he pulled back and rested his forehead against mine.
"I love you," I whispered, blinking rapidly to avoid crying. "So much. I know it's a lot but I'm the same Bella you fell in love with. If you trust nothing else, trust that. And I wouldn't dream of making your decision for you, but know that I would always choose you. Even when you're mad at me. Even when I fucked up. Even when everyone thinks we're too young to know what love is. Because maybe I got lucky with Underground Memories, but I got even luckier, meeting you."
Edward's eyes shimmered when he pulled back, and the guttural feeling in his voice pierced my heart. "Feather-heart—"
"Don't say anything," I pleaded, pressing a kiss on his hand. "Go. But know that I love you and I'll wait however long you need me to."
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"Pagar o pato" – to "pay the duck" (Brazilian Portuguese) is when injustice is being served (e.g. you're left with a bill you didn't agree to pay after a night out)
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A/N: I adore your thoughts :) thank you for sharing them!