I was in the middle of devouring some chocolate covered strawberries when Bill walked over, a glass of punch in one hand.
“I think you're a little lost. The bar's that way,” I pointed across the room before turning and dipping a ripe red strawberry into the chocolate fountain.
The buffet was a smorgasbord of color and the only thing worth my attention for now.
Most of the conversation revolved around lighting and make up and how expensive the entire costume of the movie was and how well it would do in the box office.
I found my mind drifting to Carson on more than one occasion. He would've been the best person to deal with the snobs because the I-don't-tolerate-nonsense air that seemed to cling to him was quite palpable.
“I just came over to say I'm sorry, about what happened in the car.”
I raised an eyebrow and flicked my tongue to get some chocolate stuck at the corner of my mouth.
“What happened in the car?”
“You know,” Bill leaned on the table beside me, the ice cubes in his drink letting out a soft tinkle that was immediately overshadowed by the chatter before us. “I feel like I made you feel you didn't have a choice. I can't pretend to understand what's happening in your life right now but if you feel this is the right thing for you, I ain't gon' stop you.”
I finished my strawberry and folded my hands.
I watched the crew laugh and take pictures and generally celebrate a job well done.
“Do you ever feel like all of a sudden you're not good at anything? Like you have no idea what you're doing anymore even though it's something you're used to?”
Bill frowned. “I can't say I have but then again I'm awesome at everything I do. My motto is never second-guess anything and it's been working like a charm so far.”
“Huh,” I stuck my tongue in my cheek. “It must be just me then.”
I dusted my hands and after picking a glass of already filled orange juice I atarted to walk away. Halfway away from the table I turned back to Bill and yelled, “Oh, and apology accepted.”
With the guests being entertained by one of my many specially curated playlists I made my way to the back of the house with my glass of orange juice in hand.
There was a beautiful sculpted garden that was brightly illuminated with a large tree looking over the whole landscape.
Hanging from one of the branches were two wooden swings.
I occupied one and took a swig from my cup.
Enjoying the sweet twang that rolled across my tongue, I surveyed my surroundings while I pored over the antagonistic feelings that were threatening to take over.
Something was starting to feel really wrong. It was like all of a sudden I was back to square one, lonely and hurting.
I didn't know how long I'd sat on that swing with only the insects of the night as the soundtrack to my musings but soon the sound of footsteps falling against the foliage littered on the stone floor brought me out of my own head.
Before I could stop myself I reached up and made sure my mask was in place over my eyes. It was a reflex action that happened before I could even determine it was happening. It had been key to survival as the DJ I'd made up in my mind but now I wondered if I would ever know what it felt like to live past the obvious boundaries I'd set for myself.
I was surprised at the face that peeked around the shrubbery and scanned the garden.
I didn't know if he would see me all the way up from the little hill the tree was currently perched on but I waved nonetheless.
I was successful in my attempt to get his attention when Carson gave a little shake of his head before starting towards me.
Even though the only light came from the meticulously placed bulbs stuck in fancy lanterns a few feet away, it didn't stop the splendor that was Carson Miller from hitching my breath.
He looked esculent in a black tux with a matching black bow tie. His lustrous dark hair had been gelled back but one errant strand had stubbornly stuck out over his grey eyes which were at the moment almost completely blackened by something I couldn't describe.
I had seen him more times in a tux than anybody else but this time was different. His mere presence was affecting me. My throat had dried up and my fingers itched with the yearning to reach into his prefect hair and feel every single strand as I mussed it up.
“No, no, no,” his gentle voice reached me in electrifying waves as he came to stand in front of me. “I'm the antisocial one in this twosome and I refuse to concede that title.”
I giggled. “Don't worry, I have no intention of ripping that from you.”
With an arch smile he bent and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. My eyes fluttered closed for a momentt as his big thumbs reached up to caress my cheeks.
On a normal day I wouldn't have let anyone — much less a man — that close to me, but with Carson, for the first time I felt safe. I had thought I wouldn't ever know what it felt like to not constantly look over my shoulder or flinch every time someone moved in my direction, that I could never escape my past. Now, in this space all that mattered was here and now and I was immensely grateful for that.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Are you kidding me? What are you doing here? From your texts I kinda assumed you didn't know where this place was.”
He took his hands off my face and stuck them in his pockets. I immediately missed their warmth against my skin.
“Biggest wrap party in America, in Orlando, yeah, it wasn't very hard to put the pieces together. Plus, I had to come say hi, those idiots were the first production company willing to try out MIC.”
“Mike?” I asked as I dumped my empty cup on the dirt floor and grabbed the chains of the swing.
Carson gave a low chuckle, one that even though came from him, rattled inside me. “No, not Mike, doll, M-I-C. It's this new high-tech camera we've been developing. The boys in white have a long complicated name for it but I just call it MIC. Easier to remember, and say.”
“Oh good. And here I was thinking that you gave a production company a man to try out.”
My teasing elicited the reaction I was going for. A slow smile rolled unto his face and all I could think was how he ought to have it on all the time. Not the forced ones he gave rather readily but a genuine one that brought out the tiny dimple in his stubbled cheek I just noticed.
“You haven't answered my question, young lady. Why are you out here? Instead of in there, ruling your kingdom?” He pointed in the general direction of the main house.
I hesitated. Now that it was time to put into words what I was feeling I found I didn't know how. How to convey the self-doubt and weariness that had taken over me tonight.
In the end, I realized I couldn't. I didn't want Carson to think that I couldn't handle my responsibilities as a DJ. Even though those responsibilities seemed daunting at the moment.
“Do you ever feel alone?” I asked instead. “Not lonely, no everyone's felt that. I'm talking alone. Like no matter how many people you surround yourself with or how hard you try to hide from it there's this bone-crushing emptiness that just . . . hurts.”
Carson was silent.
I didn't know what I wanted him to say but anything would've been better than the way he stared at me like I was a baby bird whose wings had been broken trying to fly for the first time.
“You know what? It's stupid, never mind.”
“All the time,” he finally answered. “The type that never goes away no matter what. That makes you crave the one thing that you're actually horrible at. Interaction.”
He bent to my eye level and soon I was swimming in his grey irisies.
“But I've realized that it doesn't last forever. Sooner or later, you're going to find someone that fills up all the corners of your empty soul so much so that you don't need anyone else. Someone that keeps that gnawing aloneness away. Someone who brings peace. And that's fucking amazing. It makes you feel that all the bad shit was ok, that you would go through all of it again if it meant meeting them.”
Unable to stop myself, I reached out and twirled the lock of his hair that hung over his eye. It really was as soft as it looked.
“And you're that person for me. Call me cheesy, but it's true. I haven't been this happy since, well, ever. You make me so fucking happy. I want to be that person for you too. If you'll let me.”
His soft grey irises lit up with his resolve to the point where they almost glowed.
“What makes you think that you're what I need right now?”
A playful grin had taken over his features. “Nothing, but I happen to think that needs are flexible. Also I have ice cream.”
• • •
“When I said I had ice cream I didn't really mean I did. I meant I knew where to get it and was willing to take us there,” Carson said as he dropped beside me on the bench.
We'd left the party eons ago and I suggested we went somewhere brighter.
That was how we ended up on this lone bench underneath a street lamp. It was right in front of an ice cream shop where a tinny music was emanating from and across the street from a restaurant with outdoor seating.
“There you go,” Carson carefully handed me a heaped ice cream cone with every color imaginable that was topped with sprinkles.
I had told Carson to pick a flavor for me and of course he went overboard.
“Really? Somehow I'm not even surprised,” then I took a bite out of it and almost moaned at the creaminess.
“If you were an ice cream, you'd be that. God, I'm getting diabetes just looking at it,” he shuddered and I laughed.
“Which one did you get?”
He turned his cone to me and I shook my head at the sad white clump.
“Vanilla, are you kidding me?”
“What? Without your expert guidance I'm hopeless.”
I shook my head again and picked at a pink sprinkle that'd landed on my thumb while Carson put his arm around me.
I scooted closer to him and drank in the delicious heat that poured from him.
“Thank you, for all this. I really needed it.”
“My pleasure. No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not you.”
I completely forgot the cone in my hands as I watch Carson devour his. My heart skipped with every flick of his tongue.
Eventually I was caught staring and I blushed and looked away.
My ice cream had started to drip and I focused on licking off the multicolored droppings while trying to ignore his gaze. It was a little hard since I could feel the burn of his stare.
“What?” he finally asked with a sportive lilt to his voice.
“Nothing,” I shook my head.
“I know it's not nothing. Come on, spill.”
“This isn't as good as Scoopy-Doo's,” I deflected.
His raised eyebrow was my only reply as he set me a look I'd only seen directed at the odd hapless employee that happened to earn his ire. But for some reason it wasn't as fierce as I remembered.
“Fine,” I groaned. “I guess I was wondering if you were different.”
“Different?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “After the way I unloaded everything on you last night I figured you'd changed. The few people I've told have. They usually react with pity and I guess I'm just wondering if this is your way of showing your pity.”
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as that thought popped in my head. I didn't want anyone's pity, much less Carson's.
“Hey,” he tucked a finger under my chin and brought my face into view of his. “I am not pitying you, ok? Why would I? You're the most fucking badass person I've ever met.”
That brought relief to me. “Ah, there's your favorite word.”
“Not only is that right, I happen to think fuck is a very versatile word. Probably the only word I have any respect for. Wanna know the one I hate the most? Yacht. I mean it is so unimaginative.”
I laughed so hard I dropped my ice cream cone.
It fell by my feet, a lump of rainbow goo that with the cone sticking out like a finger.
“Geez, I'm sorry,” Carson stated as he noticed my plight.
“It's fine,” I dismissed it with a wave of my hand and moved away from the mess and deeper into Carson's side. “That was not very good, anyways.”
“Ice cream is ice cream. Here, you can have mine.”
He turned his half eaten cone to me.
“Vanilla, ew,” I pushed his hand away making him chuckle.
“I know you think it's plain but something about vanilla resonates with my soul. Or maybe I like it because it's the only flavor I know. Can you blame me? There are so fucking many to choose from, it's dizzying.”
“There's that word again.”
“Are you not comfortable with it? Cos I could try and stop swearing.”
“No I'm good, I just . . .” I stopped as an idea started to form in my head. “I have a fun little challenge for you.”
“Oh,” was all he said as he continued with his ice cream.
“I dare you to go through all of tomorrow without using fuck.”
“Wow, you've put me in a tough spot.”
I reveled in that.
“So what do I get in return for this arduous task?” He asked as if he was negotiating a million-dollar deal not a silly dare drawn up by a woman in a mask.
“A kiss,” I said without thinking.