Moth to a Flame

by Cambria Hebert

  “Having a prosthetic is no big deal,” Landen said, walking farther into the room. I hadn’t even noticed him inside the door before. “Ooh, carbs,” he said, snagging a donut out of Carson’s box. Taking a big bite and chewing obnoxiously, he wandered over toward Zoey, powdered sugar on his lips. “No reason to be embarrassed either. We’re all friends here.”

  Zoey’s cheeks pinkened a bit, then she smiled gratefully at the actor. “Thanks.”

  “Come make me look good for the camera.” He beckoned, plopping down in her chair. “And don’t tell my trainer about this,” he held up the donut before shoving the rest in his mouth. A blissful sound erupted from his throat. “So good.”

  Zoey laughed lightly, the sound making me jealous.

  That was my laugh. Not Landen’s.

  Just like that, the crew started up again. People started eating donuts, Carson made a bunch of noise about who knows what, and Jessica came into the trailer for hair and makeup.

  Zoey grabbed her cart, wheeling toward Landen.

  “Landen,” I said, moving to stand over him. “You’re with Laura today.”

  Laura made a sound. “I can work with you, Nick, since Josh is already with Zoey.”

  “He’s not with Zoey. I am,” I declared.

  Zoey’s cart stopped rolling. Laura’s eyes widened.

  Landen grinned lazily.

  I cut off whatever comment he was about to make. “We were in the middle of a scene yesterday. I need her to do the same thing on me so we don’t have a bunch of reshoots.”

  Landen shrugged, then held his fist out to Zoey. “Catch ya later, robo-girl.”

  Startled, she looked between his fist and smiling face.

  My hand shot out, bunching in the fabric at his shoulder, partially tugging him out of the makeup chair. “What did you just call her?”

  “Robo-girl,” he said like it was nothing. “You know, ‘cause of her...” He gestured toward his own leg.

  The hand at my side fisted, and I was two seconds from giving him a black eye makeup wouldn’t need to fabricate.

  But she laughed. Zoey giggled, the sound beckoning all of our attention.

  Landen relaxed, even though I was still grabbing him, still debating on clobbering his face. “What’s the point in having a fake leg if you can’t get a cool nickname out of it?”

  “I guess it beats feeling insecure about it,” she mused.

  He made a sound, offering his fist again. Zoey pounded it out with him.

  Landen turned toward me, looking pointedly between his shirt and my hand. I let go, but I still wanted to punch him.

  Swinging an arm around Laura’s shoulders, he steered her toward their makeup setup. Carson was already working on Jessica, but I knew he was really watching what was happening over here.

  “It might be better if you work with Laura,” Zoey said quietly. “I’d really rather not come out onto set today.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll come back here when changes are needed. Just stay in the trailer.”

  “That will waste time.”

  “So will reshoots if the makeup isn’t right.”

  After a moment of deliberation, she gestured toward the vacant chair. I took a sip of coffee while watching her pull out her supplies. “You know...” I began, speaking quietly. “If you don’t like Landen calling you that, just say the word.”

  Her hand paused in reaching for a brush. “Please don’t make a big deal out of it,” she whispered.

  I let it go.

  A few minutes after starting on my face, her fingers tipped my chin up, angling me so she could see better. Our eyes fused. The setting of the entire room fell away.

  She was so close I heard her swallow. Then she whispered, “Thank you for yesterday. For what you did.”

  “I’d do it again.”

  Another heartbeat passed, and Zoey straightened, breaking whatever spell had just been cast.

  You know what coming to work got me?

  A big ol’ pile of paperwork.

  An apology was attached to that paperwork as well, and it became even more sincere after I signed all the stuff promising I wouldn’t sue the studio for negligence.

  I also had to promise I wouldn’t go on TV and let the world know I’d found myself half drowned and the subject of exciting headlines because one of the set directors fell asleep at the equipment and hit a few buttons he wasn’t supposed to.

  That’s all it took. One tired man to totally threaten my cover and reveal all the things I didn’t want people to know. Obviously, the higher-ups in the studio and the people in HR knew I had a disability.

  I hated that word. Disability. Like I was somehow not whole.

  You aren’t, I reminded myself. Sometimes parts of me were really cruel.

  I thought of it like a side effect from everything I’d been through.

  I felt like I was slapped with a permanent warning label even though I desperately tried to appear unchanged. It was too late for that. Everyone knew about my leg now. Hopefully, the whispers about everything else would stop because I gave them something definite to gossip about.

  The door to the trailer was open. The wind must have kept it from closing and no one noticed. My hand closed around the handle to bring it around when I went inside, but the murmur of voices stopped me.

  “‘Hollywood royalty and a makeup artist.’” Laura scoffed. “What kind of headline is that anyway?”

  “One that sells,” Jessica answered, her voice bored.

  “Do you think that’s why she always comes in here all done up, without a hair out of place? She’s trying to make up for all the things she’s missing?”

  Glancing up toward the sky, I tried not to let Laura’s words pierce me. The truth shouldn’t hurt, right? Well, it did. Especially when it felt like my truth was being used against me.

  “It must be hard showing up on a set filled with actors who are perfect when you never will be. At least Nick knows now. I’ve seen the way she looks at him. This is just a little reminder that he’s way out of her league.” Jessica surmised, her voice smug and uncaring.

  Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I blinked furiously and stared upward so none managed to streak my cheeks.

  “The headlines coming out today are all frothing with the possibility that someone like her could snag someone like him.”

  “Of course they are. Everyone loves an underdog. A real Cinderella story. But that’s all this is. A story to sell papers... and movie tickets.”

  Letting go of the door handle, I backed away slowly before turning around and walking off. I wasn’t a coward. I was someone who picked my battles. Though it hurt, petty things like gossip and rumors were a waste of my time and energy. Besides, hadn’t I just been hoping people would talk about something other than the whispers regarding my face?

  Truthfully, I felt fragile today. A feeling that, yeah, left me to wonder if perhaps I was a coward after all, hiding under clothes and makeup and lies.

  There was a fine line between cowardly and protecting oneself. I wasn’t really sure on which side of that line I stood. So maybe I liked to tell myself I was just choosing my battles when really what I was doing was walking away before I could admit defeat.

  I wouldn’t let those barracudas see me cry. No way.

  What the hell was Jessica flapping her Botoxed lips about anyway? The way I looked at Nick. A light scoffing sound filled the space around me. I didn’t look at him any way other than an artist studying her canvas.

  Rounding the row of trailers, my hair blew back with a gust of wind. The rain from this morning stopped a while ago, but the sky still seemed heavy, as if it were about to downpour again at any given moment.

  The light sound of scuffling feet and a sense of foreboding rolled over me like the thunder suddenly rumbling through the sky. Without looking behind me, I fought to keep my pace normal so as not to show I was suspicious.

  Unexpectedly, something unforgiving and strong clamped down around m
y wrist, snatching me off balance.

  Stumbling into the narrow space between two trailers, I would have fallen if not for the body that pinned me intimately against the wall. A scream bubbled up inside me, but it was stifled by a large hand pressing fully against my mouth.

  The flashback hit me hard and fast, knocking reality away and transporting me back into the past... back to that day.

  * * *

  It was the perfect day. The weather was warm, but not hot. The masterclass I was taking let out early, and later, I was meeting friends for a thank-God-it’s-Friday dinner.

  “Look what I have!” a bubbly voice bounced near.

  Forgetting about the lipstick in my hand, I spun with a wide smile. “It came in already!” I squealed, rushing forward to take the small package from her hand.

  “We always get the new releases about a week early so we can stock everything for launch day.”

  Excitedly, I tugged open the top of the box and pulled out the newest, most anticipated foundation the beauty industry was buzzing about. Even the instructor at the masterclass I was taking mentioned it.

  “Oh my God, it’s gorgeous,” I breathed out like it was something holy.

  To a makeup artist like me, it was.

  “I know.” Samantha sighed. “Don’t tell anyone I showed you!” she said, sternly pointing her finger at me.

  Laughing, I agreed. “But I can have this, right?”

  Teeth sank into her lower lip. “I don’t know... If my boss finds out...” She trailed off.

  I flashed puppy dog eyes.

  Defeated, she groaned. “If those baby blues work on me, I can’t imagine how many guys fall at your feet.”

  Pleased, I lunged forward and hugged her. “Thanks, Sam! I won’t tell. Cross my heart!”

  She waved me off. “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Having a best friend working at the top beauty supply in town is the smartest thing I ever did.”

  “I feel used,” she bickered sullenly.

  “I’ll buy you a drink tonight,” I sang.

  “Make it a big one.”

  “Deal!”

  She laughed and dragged me toward another new product I’d yet to swatch.

  I spent most of my afternoon browsing the aisles until there was only an hour until we were supposed to meet up for dinner. “I’m going, Sam!” I called to her on my way out. “I need to change. I’ll see you at dinner!”

  “See you soon!” she hollered.

  The sun was just slipping low in the sky as I sipped at the iced coffee while strolling down the sidewalk. I was already planning the look I wanted to create with my new items and how the pictures would be a great addition to my portfolio.

  A prickly feeling fingered the back of my neck when a gentle wind blew. Shivering slightly in the denim jacket I wore, I reached up, making sure my hair wasn’t caught on the collar.

  I’d been so deep in my own creative thinking that I hadn’t realized how empty the street seemed, how eerily quiet everything was for a Friday night. Another wave of uneasiness washed over me, and my fingers tightened around the small sack in my hand.

  The wind blew again. Strands of blond hair brushed across my cheeks, momentarily blinding me. As I raised my hand to wipe them away, something clamped around my wrist.

  The coffee hit the sidewalk with a splatter. The sound of the cup rolling away was strangely loud.

  Panic jolted my system, shocking me numb for long seconds.

  My shoes made a scuffing sound against the concrete as I was dragged into a dark alleyway beside my apartment building.

  My nostrils flared, lungs seizing, when a hot, heavy hand slammed over my nose and mouth. The brick of the building dug into my back, rasping against the jacket. The man holding me shoved my face to the side, my cheek scraping against the rough surface. I tried to scream and fight.

  He used his entire body like a bulldozer, slamming into me, pinning me with his weight.

  “No!” I yelled, though it was muffled against his hand. “No!”

  I squirmed, trying to see who was assaulting me, my foot connecting with his knee. A low sound tore from him, and I shot forward, only to be slammed back into the brick. Dizziness overcame me, my vision blurring. The bag in my hand was ripped away and my fingers pinned over my head.

  A rough hand grabbed my chin, and I felt him studying my face.

  “Please, no,” I begged, my lower lip trembling.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. This wasn’t happening.

  He was wearing a hood pulled low to conceal his features. Squirming, I tried to see beyond the fabric, to get a look at the man who was trying to hurt me.

  Shockingly, he lifted his head.

  An ear-piercing scream ripped open my throat and burst from my lips. But it was caught too, trapped by a thick white rag covered in liquid that smelled astonishingly foul.

  I tried not to breathe, but my lungs demanded it. And then I was falling... falling... gone...

  My vision was blurred, entire body trembling and limp, and I was still pinned. The warmth of a palm cupped the back of my clammy neck and slid up to caress the side of my face. Sucking in a breath, I heard someone talking from far away, but I couldn’t understand his words. My heart was pounding, and I knew the clock was ticking.

  I had to get away.

  Using every bit of strength and clarity I could muster, I threw my weight into the man restraining me, knocking him off balance. I jolted away, but my legs betrayed me.

  Just when I would have hit the pavement, I was caught, pulled up and around to stare at the man with no face... Except he did have a face.

  Even though my eyes were blurry and my mind muddled, I took in his features. That brief recognition was the very last thing my mind and body allowed before my entire system shut down.

  “Maybe we should call someone.” Callie fretted near the door.

  Zoey would hate it if I called someone in here. The more people that knew, the more chance there was of this hitting the news.

  Even knowing that, my resolve was wavering. How could it not be? She looked colorless and frail lying against the couch, as if she weren’t even a match for the fluff-filled cushions cradling her.

  Fuck, I hadn’t meant to scare her. I was trying to protect her.

  Fine job you’ve done of that, Preston. Maybe next time you want to protect someone, you just don’t.

  No. I’d do the same thing again. The current situation was better than the one we could have been in.

  “Nick.” Callie’s worried voice disrupted my thoughts. My gaze swung around to meet hers. “I’ll get one of the medics, bring him here. We can swear him to secrecy.”

  Glancing back down at Zoey’s white face, I gave the nod.

  Callie jerked upright, spinning around to leave.

  Zoey groaned.

  “Wait!” I called out, dropping beside the couch. “Zoey, can you hear me?”

  Her eyes squeezed closed as if I were trying to wake her from peaceful sleep. The action would have been cute if she was asleep and hadn’t just wiped out in my arms.

  Her head tilted toward the sound of my voice. Callie hovered over my shoulder as I gently slid my hand beneath Zoey’s head to lift it off the pillow.

  “Zo...” I cajoled. “Open your eyes.”

  Slowly, her lashes fluttered until a sliver of her brown gaze could be seen. Her eyes were hazy, pupils slightly dilated and unfocused.

  Still cradling her head, I used my free hand to brush away some of the strands stuck to her clammy cheeks and forehead. “Can you hear me?”

  “Nick?” she whispered.

  I nodded. “You passed out. I brought you—”

  Her eyes shot all the way open, and though they still seemed fuzzy, her body jackknifed up, arms gripping the couch as if she suddenly remembered she was trying to escape.

  “Whoa, whoa...” I soothed, staying where I was, not reaching for her. “You’re safe. We’re still on the lot. I brought you into my tr
ailer so no one would see what happened.”

  “Can I get you some water?” Callie asked.

  Zoey’s eyes snapped to my assistant, realizing she was there. Her body plastered back against the sofa, but her eyes relaxed a little. She nodded, and Callie quickly went to the fridge.

  A bottle of Voss water appeared over my shoulder. I accepted it before Zoey could, uncapped it, then held it out.

  She took it, the tremble in her hands obvious.

  “Callie,” I said, slowly pivoting around to stand. “Can you go to the makeup trailer and get Zoey’s bag? She probably needs it.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Callie was partially out the door when Zoey called out. “Can you get my makeup kit sitting beside it? And the small bag that’s there too.”

  When Callie was gone, Zoey glanced up at me. “I can just do your makeup in here, right?”

  The last thing I was worried about was my makeup.

  Squatting beside of the sofa again, my eyes swept over her face. “You collapsed.”

  She took another sip of the water, avoiding my gaze. “Did anyone else see?”

  “No. I managed to get you in here before anyone could.”

  Her shoulders slumped with obvious relief. “Thank you.”

  “I scared you.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. I—” Her words faltered, and a shudder moved through her. “I just need a minute.”

  Carefully, I moved to sit near her on the couch, the cushions sinking beneath my weight. Zoey sat sideways, her body turned toward where I sat, her cheek pillowed on the back cushions. She clutched the water against her chest like it was either a shield or a comforting stuffed toy.

  Neither of us said anything. We just sat there in silence, and I listened to her uneven breathing. Feeling helpless, I snagged a blanket off the nearby chair. “You seem cold,” I said, spreading it over her, tucking it beneath her chin.

  She started to say something when the trailer door opened, making her jump. The blanket fell when her hand shot out, tightly grabbing my forearm.

  “It’s Callie,” I told her, not flinching away from the way her fingers strangled my arm.