Chapter 1
Hacienda Colinas del Cielo, Texas 2019
The Texas sun beat down on the dusty set. Under the shade of 1a large open tent, Halona patiently waited for the latest tantrum to blow over. She stifled a smirk watching her assistant Sydney narrowly dodge a water bottle launched by Starla Cruz, the leading lady.
"What fresh hell did I miss this time?" Sydney plopped down, handing Halona a cold water.
"The daily episode of 'Her Royal Majesty's Petty Demands'." Halona rolled her eyes. "Costumes, makeup, you name it - nothing is living up to her standards."
"Girl needs to up her meds," Sydney quipped, earning a snort of laughter from Halona.
Thick as thieves since middle school, the two had been best friends. When Halona's rising fame necessitated an assistant and confidante, Sydney, the person she trusted most, naturally stepped up, leaving her marketing job behind.
"Five bucks says we shut down early today," Sydney wagered with a smirk.
Halona glanced at her watch. "It's barely noon."
"Just saying, I'd recast the whiny brat if I could."
"She's box office gold though," Halona sighed, frustrated but pragmatic.
Right on cue, Starla's shrill voice announced she'd be retreating to her trailer for the rest of the day. Moments later, the director confirmed the early shutdown.
"Pay up, bestie!" Sydney extended her hand triumphantly.
"Lunch is on me," Halona conceded, linking arms as they headed for the air-conditioned trailer. "This constant delay is gonna put me in a retirement home before we wrap filming."
"I'm not changing your diapers," Sydney chuckled.
"You haven't read the small print in your contract." Halona countered, a playful glint sparkling in her eyes. The blast of arctic air from the AC hit her as she entered the trailer, sending chills erupting across her arms.
"Mhmm we'll see about that." Sydney laughed as she flopped onto the couch and proceeded to search local attractions on her cellphone. After scrolling for a bit, she perked up. "Oh hey, this escape room thing looks fun! You know I love those."
"Yeah, well, I'm already trapped in my own personal hellscape at work," Halona deadpanned.
Sydney chuckled. "Fair point. How about grabbing drinks in that cute town we passed earlier? Do some retail therapy?"
"You read my mind!" Halona grinned, swapping into a breezy sundress. "I'm starving."
"Me too!" Sydney opened the trailer door and then turned back to Halona. "You wanna bring security?"
Halona chuckled, tossing her long dark hair into a loose bun. The warm desert air tickled her neck as she slid behind the wheel of her Mercedes. "Out here? Nah, it's fine," she said, adjusting her sunglasses.
The engine purred to life, and Halona tapped her iPhone, bringing up Google Maps. Sydney stifled a giggle, memories of their disastrous navigation through Arches National Park last summer flooding back like a sandstorm of nostalgia.
As they left the movie set behind, the open road beckoned. Miles of dusty landscape stretched before them, cell service fading like a mirage. Sydney fiddled with the radio, inadvertently blasting "Toxic" by Britney at full volume.
"Hell yes! Turn it up!" Halona squealed, her fingers drumming the steering wheel.
The girls' voices soared with the chorus, that nostalgic 90's pop energy jolting them both. The quaint downtown appeared on the horizon, a storybook scene of brightly-colored buildings. Halona parked with a satisfied click, the smell of spices and sizzling meat drawing them to a lively Mexican cantina.
As they stepped inside, a wave of warmth and the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter washed over them. The hostess, a smiling woman with a colorful flower in her hair, led them to a cozy booth near a window.
"Two house margaritas, please," Sydney said, barely glancing at the menu. "And some of those amazing-smelling fajitas!"
"Yes please." Halona nodded in agreement, her stomach growling in anticipation. As they waited for their food, the girls fell into easy conversation, catching up on the gossip from set. The margaritas arrived, condensation beading on the salt-rimmed glasses.
"Oh, this is heaven," Halona sighed after her first sip, the tart lime and smooth tequila dancing on her tongue.
Their fajitas sizzled as they were placed on the table, the aroma of grilled peppers and spices making their mouths water. As they loaded up soft tortillas with meat and veggies, their chatter continued.
It was during a lull in the conversation, their plates half-empty and margarita glasses nearly drained, that Sydney's expression turned more serious. She dramatically declared, "Hold up, I need to post this," snapping a photo of her remaining food and drink.
"You're such an idiot," Halona giggled, reaching for her own glass. But as she sipped, she noticed the shift in Sydney's demeanor, a prelude to a more serious topic.
Sydney raised her eyebrows, her voice lowering. "Speaking of idiots... What's going on with Nick?"
"Mmmm," Halona cleared her throat, the taste of tequila had suddenly turned bitter. She stared into her glass, seeing reflections of the past year with Nick Morgan, lead singer of Tripping Upstairs. Their relationship had been a rollercoaster of highs and lows, opposites attracting like magnets destined to repel. As Halona sipped her margarita, memories washed over her. She'd always been the quintessential California girl, but her journey hadn't always been smooth sailing.
The Harrington's - Roger, a renowned thoracic surgeon, and Rosemary, a woman of 'family money' - had adopted her as an infant, fulfilling her dream of motherhood after cancer had nearly stolen it away. Halona flourished under their care, excelling in academics and sports alike. She could still smell the chlorine from swim meets, the satisfying thwack of her lacrosse stick.
Her mother's cancer had returned just as Halona was accepted into UCLA, but Rosemary had insisted she go. Halona's love for the outdoors, fostered through countless weekends hiking with her parents and camping at Lake Tahoe, had inspired her to pursue a degree in Conservation and Resource Studies. However, life took an unexpected turn when she stumbled upon a reality show casting call.
"You just got that far away dreamy look in your eyes." Sydney laughed and shook her head.
"Just thinking about how different life turns out than expected." Halona mused. "Remember signing up for 80 days?"
Sydney nodded, her eyes sparkling with the memory. "How could I forget? One minute we're gawking at the crowd, the next you're signing up for a reality show."
Halona's journey into the spotlight began with "80 Days," a high-octane reality show that took contestants on a whirlwind world cruise. At each port of call, participants dove headfirst into the local culture and traditions, all while tackling extreme adventure challenges both on and off the ship.
One day, Halona might find herself zip-lining through a lush tropical canopy. The next, she'd be scaling the ship's towering rock wall as ocean waves crashed below. The show sought to crown the most daring and successful adventurer, pushing contestants to their limits at every turn.
Though she narrowly missed clinching the top spot, her second-place finish proved to be a launching pad. The exposure and excitement of "80 Days" catapulted her into the dizzying world of show business, opening doors she never imagined possible.
The whirlwind that followed still made Halona's head spin. Reality TV fame, a music video, and then her breakout role in "Faded Footprints." An Oscar winning rom-com.
Then came... Nick Morgan.
Halona's mind conjured his image: wavy dark blond hair, piercing blue eyes, a jaw that could cut glass, and a body that would make Michelangelo weep.
The ultimate bad boy.
Halona and Nick's relationship burned bright from the start, but his temper flared just as hot. They spent a whirlwind three months in Paris, hounded by paparazzi at every turn. The constant attention only fueled their passion.
But when they returned to the States, reality set in. Halona settled back into her life in San Francisco, while Nick resumed his in Los Angeles. The distance gnawed at Nick's insecurities. Soon, his calls became more frequent, tinged with suspicion and jealousy. What had once felt exciting now left Halona on edge, never sure what mood she'd encounter when she answered the phone.
One night, Nick's rage finally boiled over. Fueled by alcohol and paranoia, he drove for hours from Los Angeles to San Francisco. Halona woke to furious pounding on her door, Nick's voice slurred and angry on the other side.
When she opened the door, things escalated quickly. For the first time, Nick's anger turned physical. The next morning, bruised and shaken, Halona filed for a restraining order.
Months passed. Nick's calls and messages shifted from rage to remorse. He begged for forgiveness, promised to change, to get help. Slowly, Halona's resolve began to crack. The memory of their passionate beginning overshadowed the painful end.
Against her better judgment and the worried advice of friends, Halona agreed to give Nick a second chance. She told herself things would be different this time, that people could change. She pushed down the nagging doubt in the pit of her stomach.
"I ignored all the red flags." Halona admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sydney reached across the table, squeezing her friend's hand. "Hey, we've all been there. Well, maybe not the 'months in Paris' part, but you know what I mean."
Halona managed a weak smile. "I really thought he meant it this time, you know? But then that video of his drunken outburst hit the internet, he was in jail again, and the media went crazy..."
She trailed off, staring into her nearly empty glass as if it held the answers to her tumultuous love life.
"Halo," Sydney said gently, "maybe it's time to write a new chapter. One without Nick in it."
Halona nodded slowly, feeling as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into unknown waters. "Yeah," she said, her voice growing stronger. "You're right, I know. I'm so done with him."
"He's always been an asshole." Sydney rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "Though, his abs are incredibly distracting." Sydney laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
A young server approached, her voice tentative. "Can I take these plates out of your way?"
Halona nodded, grateful for the interruption. As the server cleared their table, she found herself longing for a distraction from thoughts of Nick and the tumultuous path that had led her here.
"Any good shops to check out in town?" Halona asked, ready to lose herself in the charm of this small town, if only for a little while.
"There's a fantastic wine-tasting place at the end of Main Street. There's a ton of antiques in town but truthfully, most are junk shops." She rolled her eyes. "There's a decent one on Juniper if you turn left at the end of the road. It's secondhand stuff, but they have a legit antique section in the back. Plus, the owner's family lives on a reservation, so he sells some Native-made crafts too."
"Are there reservations around here?" Sydney's interest was piqued.
"A couple south and west," the waitress explained. "Though if you're interested, there are more just across the border in Oklahoma. The Black Kettle Grasslands are close too."
An awkward silence fell over the table before Halona cleared her throat. "Thanks for the tips."
"I've never been to a reservation." Sydney turned to Halona. "We could go."
"Not interested." Halona took the credit card back from the girl and put it in her wallet. "That antique store sounds fun though - let's check it out."
Sydney shrugged, a silent understanding passing between them. Halona might be open about her adoption and heritage, but certain topics remained off-limits. Thankfully, the radio filled the short car ride back, easing the awkward silence. As they approached the store, Halona reached out, placing a kiss on Sydney's cheek.
"Sorry I was short with you earlier," she offered with a smile.
"Was that a short joke?" Sydney teased back playfully.
Halona's chuckle dissolved into a surprised laugh. Sydney grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the store. As Halona scanned the racks of clothes near the entrance, her eyes snagged on a sight that stole her breath. There, nestled against the back wall, sat a magnificent Stickley chest. Her hand instinctively reached out, tracing the smooth, cherry-red surface.
"A beautiful piece," a deep voice startled her.
Turning, she met the gaze of Joshua Lightfeather, the store owner. Sydney, meanwhile, reveled in the racks of vintage clothing, her infectious laughter echoing through the store as she twirled in a vibrant "hippie skirt," as Halona teasingly called it.
While Sydney reveled in the past through fashion, Halona lost herself in the stories whispered by the old photographs lining the back wall. Images of a bygone era – a woman churning butter outside a simple cabin, a bustling town square in its infancy.
Halona sighed, a wistful note creeping into her voice. "Life sure seemed simpler back then."
"Simpler? Dude, for real? Shitting in the woods and no electricity." Sydney materialized beside her, a playful glint in her eyes. "No internet? No thank you!"
"No Taylor Swift." Halona laughed knowing Sydney was a true Swiftie.
"No Starbucks." Sydney doubled down.
"Touche." Halona chuckled. "Imagine life without Trump's Twitter meltdowns." But a flicker of seriousness crossed her features. "Still, it makes you wonder. Can you even imagine this world back then?"
Sydney shook her head, her smile fading. "Total nightmare. Women had zero rights, and even after slavery ended, equality was a distant dream. Your ancestors… well, history speaks for itself."
Halona nodded, a tight smile pulling at her lips. "Yeah," her gaze drifted towards the center of the store, drawn to the display cases overflowing with trinkets from a bygone era.
As Sydney traced a finger along the counter, Halona lingered by a silver pocket watch. Its intricate design whispered tales of forgotten journeys. Beside it, a pair of delicate pearl earrings shimmered.
"Those earrings aren't right for you…" Joshua's voice broke the reverie. "But, that pocket watch," He gently plucked it up, the aged timepiece gleaming in the soft light.
Halona felt a strange pull as she took the cool metal into her hands. A pleasant chill shot up her arm as she examined the watch's details, her fingers tracing the ornate pattern.
"There's a key to wind it up right here," Joshua explained, demonstrating the tiny key that fit into the watch's top.
"What are you going to do with a pocket watch?" Sydney teased.
"It's very pretty," Halona admitted, tracing the delicate filigree on the watch's face.
"All original parts," Joshua added, a hint of pride in his voice.
Sydney rolled her eyes. "You literally just bought a brand new Apple watch last month."
"But a watch like this," Joshua interjected, his voice gaining a philosophical edge. "It carries history and marks a new journey. It's a tangible piece of the past."
"I'll take it," Halona announced.
Sydney shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "You're such a sucker for a good story."