FanGirl

by Lawson, Angel

  “Maybe people can tell it’s fake. I mean, it is not a real relationship. Maybe they can feel that?” Ever since we kissed in the truck, I’ve been worried ZWankHard picked up on our lack of chemistry.

  “You’re actors, Ruby, they’ll believe anything you give them, but we need something a bit more personal. Like holding hands while walking to the car, or a quick hug and kiss out somewhere,” he stops, interrupted by a knock on the door. Derek opens it and Iris is on the other side.

  “Iris! Just the girl I wanted to see!”

  Andrew and I exchange a wary look. Since when did Derek want to talk to Iris, or even know who she is?

  “Um,” Iris says, walking into the room. “Okay.”

  I shrug and Andrew looks down at his shoes. Derek, as always, smiles. “We’re talking about this terrible website trying to discredit the validity of Andrew and Ruby’s relationship. Not to mention all the slanderous comments about the movie in general.”

  “I don’t like it either, but Nick and the geeks can’t figure out who’s behind it. From what I gather, they’re locked up tight — no trail at all.”

  “Yes,” he says with a frown. “They told me this also. I think that you may be the perfect person to fix this for us.”

  “Fix what?” she asks. “Nick told me specifically to stay away from that account. I’m following orders.”

  “Oh no, nothing like that. I’m thinking more along the lines of continuing to use your website to push Andrew and Ruby.”

  This gets my attention. “Z.net already has a celebrity section. Iris has been updating it with anything about us or the rest of the cast as it hits the media.”

  “I’ve seen. I’ve also noticed you have quite the advertising base. Exclusives on Andrew and Ruby could increase your revenue.”

  “What do you mean by ‘exclusives?’” she asks.

  “I mean, we hire a photographer ourselves, take photos of them out and about while you write the copy — pushing the agenda in the right direction. Supporting these two.”

  “No,” I say. “No, I draw the line here. I don’t want Z.net to be used to promote my relationship.” I swallowed hard on the last word.

  “It’s not a bad idea. We can fight back against the wank and generate some revenue by being the first ones to post the story.”

  “Iris, you know how I feel about this.”

  “Well, you know how I feel about wasted opportunities!” She jumps out of her seat and I do the same.

  “Make your own opportunities! Stop using mine!”

  “Girls, I’m sure there’s a middle gro—”

  “Did you tell me to make my own? I made this for you, Ruby! I made that video and forced you into that role. I convinced you to audition! That was all me! If it had been left to you, your summer would be spent at the pool, babysitting 5-year-olds, wallowing over Reid and trying to work up the courage to ask the lifeguard for a Band-Aid!” Iris shakes her finger at me. Her father’s accent slips through in anger.

  “So what? I like babysitting! And that lifeguard is hot! Have you seen his back? It’s like the hottest back ever! And I never asked for you to do any of that for me!” I’m yelling, beyond yelling even, on the verge of completely losing it. I search her eyes for a sign of my best friend. She stares back with her hands on her hips. In that moment, I hope, I pray, Iris will tell me she won’t do it. That she will not put photos of my “personal life” on the website. Not because of any morality or ethical issue, but because I asked her not to do it. Iris and Z.net may be the only things left from my prior life. I can’t lose them both.

  I wait one second more. She says nothing, so instead I break. “You know what? I don’t care, Iris. Do what you want. It’s your website. I just tagged along — as usual. I’m done.” And with that I push past everyone and walk out the door.

  g

  The rest of the day goes by in a blur. Luckily, all I’m required to do is repeat choreographed moves for a big fight scene.[1] It’s 2 a.m. by the time we’re released and Iris left hours ago. I’m halfway to the parking lot before I realize I have no ride home. Not that I would go with her anyway. I could ask Andrew, who just walked out the door with his bodyguard/trainer, but I can’t handle a potential paparazzi moment tonight. I can see the ever-present fan/photographer group waiting by the entrance of the warehouse parking lot from here. The later they stay, the more desperate they become.

  “You look confused,” Gabe says. He’s carrying a box of stuff and he stops next to me, shifting the weight to his hip.

  “Iris left me. I need a ride home.”

  He looks at the exit. “You don’t have another one?”

  “Nope. Thanks for pointing it out though.”

  His eyes narrow and he says, “I thought — never mind.”

  “What?”

  “If you can wait five minutes, I’ll give you a ride.”

  His tone is a little hostile. What’s with everyone today? But I have no choice. “What’s another five minutes,” I say. On cue a massive yawn overtakes me and I clamp my hand over my mouth. “Sorry.”

  “Come on, I’ll hurry.” I follow Gabe to his “office,” which is a tiny room filled with his and Nick and Arthur’s things. Gabe gathers papers, a hat, three empty bottles of water and a coat that he shrugs on his arms, though it’s 85 degrees outside, even this late at night. He spends a second patting his pockets, searching for keys, phone and, apparently, a black drawing pen because when he finds it, he pulls it out and smiles. “I looked all over for this today!” Even though it’s 2:27 a.m. and this has been one of the worst days ever, I can’t help but think he’s cute.

  “Ready?” He picks up the box. “Can you get the lights?”

  I flip them off and follow him down the hall. “Filming went okay today, don’t you think?”

  He laughs. “Yeah, from what I saw. You were on fire.”

  I give him a side-eye. “Is that a joke? Because today was kind of rough personally. It feels like a blur.”

  We reach his car and he tosses the box in the back seat. “No, that wasn’t a joke. You seemed focused. You and Andrew did a great job working side by side. You make a good team.”

  “I guess.”

  “So, you and Iris?”

  “What about us?”

  “I assume you had a fight or something?”

  He pulls out of the lot and we pass a small group of fans at the entrance to the set. A couple of cameras flash and I cover my eyes from the incredible glare in the dark. I’m relieved when he doesn’t stop. “Can you even see?” I ask him. I blink back the light spots the flashes made on my vision.

  “No, but I’m not stopping here.” I can hear my name being called by some of the girls we pass.

  “Jeez, it’s all so crazy.” I start laughing even though nothing is funny, but once I start I can’t stop. To make matters worse, tears well in my eyes and I get the hiccups. Gabe shoots me a weird look that starts my giggles over again. I lean my head back against the headrest and laugh until I cry. “Everyone wants something, you know? An autograph or an idea or to smile or not smile or to hold hands.” All of this comes out in a blubbering, snotty mess.

  “Um…”

  “Sorry,” I say, wiping my face and nose on my shirt. “Yes. Iris and I had a fight. This is what happens when we do.”

  “You act like a maniac?”

  “No, I feel like crap and stress out about everything.”

  He stops at a light, reaches his hand out and takes mine. “It’s okay. We’ve been working some exceptionally long hours and everyone has been pushed past their limit.” The light changes and he starts driving again, but my hand is still locked with his. Gabe thinks I’m with Andrew and I know I shouldn’t let him. Still, I don’t move away. “People want you and Iris to hold hands and smile and stuff?”

  “Shut up.” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s website stuff.”

  “Oh. Okay. Can I help? You know how impressed I am with your fansite. It’s the best one out there.”


  “No. We’re having a difference of opinion on our focus. What angle we want to take. Which stories we want to push and how to present the information,” I say. “And other stuff.”

  In the light of the dashboard, I see his eyebrow raise. “Other stuff?”

  “Just stupid stuff.” I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t talk about it. My agreement with Derek feels like a barb in my mouth.

  “Like you and Andrew?” His hand tenses in mine and his eyes are straight ahead, the lights of the occasional passing car flashing over us.

  “Yeah.”

  “She wants to include your, um, relationship as part of Z.net.” When he says the word “relationship” his hand loosens from mine and returns to the steering wheel.

  “Yes.”

  “But you want all of that kept private? Because I mean, I can see Iris’ point, she wants the traffic.” I start to protest and he cuts me off, saying, “I see yours, too. Trust me, I don’t want your website tainted by whatever issues you have with each other.”

  “No,” I say. “I mean, nothing about Andrew is private, right? And Iris wants to use the website as a platform to fight the wank site. Which I get. I just don’t want to lose what Z.net is about — why we’re there. We’ve always been about the books and the movie. Fan art and videos. Chats and discussions. Reid’s site is more pure than ours. He never wavers, even if it means he’ll lose visitors. I want one thing in my life to stay the same. I want Z.net to have integrity. Even if nothing else does.”

  Gabe pulls into my driveway. The house is pitch black other than the light over the side porch. My stomach sinks when I realize my parents are at a teachers’ conference and I have the next couple days at home alone. Iris is supposed to spend the night with me.

  “What have you done to make you feel like you’ve lost your integrity?” How many questions can he ask? We’re dancing around it. “It” being me and Andrew and this stupid, fake, zero-chemistry relationship.

  “Nothing. Okay?” I rub the heels of my palms on my eyes. I’m so tired and this conversation is a mess. “I think I just need to go to bed.”

  He gives me a weak smile and I get out of the car. He’s by my side before I even get my bag off the floor. “You don’t have to walk with me.”

  He shakes his head. “Of course I do. My mom and your dad would both kick my ass if I didn’t.” He takes the satchel I’ve been reduced to carrying at all times and slings it over his shoulder. When we reach the porch, he leans against the railing. “Plus, I have something to ask you.”

  Moths crash into the porch light, casting shadows across the side of the house. I can hear James Brown scratching the inside of the door, whining. “Sure, anything.”

  “I’m done with my draft.”

  The first real smile of the night breaks across my face. “You are?”

  “Yeah,” he’s smiling too. His hands are shoved in his pockets and his shoulders are up to his ears. I’m amazed he gets so nervous talking about this stuff at his level of success. “Can I bring it to you tomorrow?”

  “What?! Why don’t you have it here now? Why are we talking about all my dramas when you have Issue 4 ready? Do you like tormenting me?”

  “I guess I’m a jerk.”

  Cutest jerk ever. Gah. I needed to stop that. “I guess you are.”

  “I’ll bring it tomorrow. You don’t have to read it right away if you’re busy or whatever,” he says, frowning.

  “Gabe! Like something will keep me from reading it! In fact, you need to hold out and wait until the end of the day because I won’t be able to focus. I can hardly focus right now! Let’s go get it? Is it in your car?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “I’m serious. Is it in your car?”

  “It’s at home. And I’ll bring it tomorrow. And you need to go to bed. It’s late and tomorrow will be another long day.”

  “Can Issue 4 be my reward?”

  “Yes.” He hands me my satchel. “Goodnight, Ruby.”

  “Night. Thanks for the ride and listening.”

  He shrugs “Eh. Price for your friendship.”

  Ouch. That one stops me because there’s too much bartering with relationships around here and not enough real. “No, Gabe. Don’t say that.”

  “Hey.” He steps forward and pulls me into a hug. “You’re right. Me and you. Friends, right? Honest and truthful. I need the truth on this draft. The real truth. And I promise to do the same with you — with everything.”

  I lean my head into his chest and close my eyes. I’m so tired. “Everything?”

  He nods his head and his chin rubs the top of my hair. “When you want it, yes.”

  “Thank you.” I squeeze my arms around his waist tighter, unwilling to let go.

  g

  [1] Body count: 15 zombies, three humans (R.I.P. Deanna, aka Rochelle). Cole is lucky to walk away with a gash to his shoulder from Alexandra’s hatchet.

  Chapter 14

  I bang on the door and Gabe answers in a Green Lantern T-shirt and cotton pajama pants. His feet are bare and his hair is wild and I’m taken back by his good looks, damn him. But then he says, “Ruby? Are you okay?” and his eyes dart down to the book I’m clutching at my chest and my skull and crossbone pajamas. I remember that he’s NOT cute, he’s a traitor and I may have to pull a Misery[1] on him.

  “What did you do?” I ask, pushing past him and into the tiny apartment.

  The door closes behind me with a soft click. “You read it.”

  “Oh, I read it.” I say, and even I can hear the shrill, panicked sound in my voice. Again, I ask, “What. Did. You. Do?”

  He holds my gaze. And I know right then that whatever tiny hope I had for this not being real is a waste. “This was planned. For years. The story always went this way.”

  “You broke them up!”

  “Well, technically, they were never ‘together’ together. Don’t tell me you never saw this coming.”

  I raise the book up and consider throwing it. Gabe’s eyes widen and I realize then how precious this is — what I have in my hand is written gold, and even in my anger I recognize that. Instead, I gently place it on the table. “How could you do this? They love each other.”

  “Do they?” he says. He sits on the leather couch, pushing papers and game controllers out of the way.

  “Of course they do! After all that! They have no choice.” I pace around the room.

  “Everyone has choices, Ruby. Even in the zombie apocalypse.”

  “No, Gabe. No! This is not happening. Wyatt and Alexandra are destined to be together. It’s destiny. Fate. A cosmic good in the middle of a desperate situation. It’s the only good thing that happened in all of this, and now you’re telling me everything they had together is not real? Is not part of some larger story?”

  “Ruby…”

  “Remember in Issue 2 when Wyatt tells Alexandra how his mother left when he was 10 and his father is a drunk and ran off? He had nowhere to go, but he fought and fought against the system and school and, in the end, he made it to college to start a new life. Then the world came shattering down. He tells her that finding her is the only thing that has made his life worth living.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I woke up in a cold sweat after reading that. Don’t tell me all of it means nothing.”

  “I’m not telling you that – it just means something else.”

  Tears well in my eyes and I know I’m being stupid and irrational and maybe a little psychotic, but Gabe has single-handedly shattered the last refuge of my sanity; my fantasy of the epic coupling of Alexandra and Wyatt. “I don’t get it. Why?”

  “Why? Because it’s the story I want to tell, the one I’ve always envisioned. These two were together because circumstances put them together. Horrible ones. Don’t you want Alex to have a chance to be with her true love — maybe her destiny?”

  “Cole is not her destiny,” my voice is hard.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “C
ole? He’s weak! He’s a freaking nerd and he’s no match for Alex.”

  “That is not true,” he says, the hurt clear in his voice.

  “Yes it is! He thinks he can geek his way out of everything. Sure, he loves Alex, but she’s not right for him. He’s not a fighter! She needs a fighter.”

  Gabe shakes his head. “All he does is fight for Alex and Chloe. Just in a different way. All Wyatt does is fight for himself.”

  I don’t respond and he continues. “So, you’d rather her be with a smug and condescending jerk? A guy who looks out for himself before anyone else? Wyatt is emotionally unavailable. His secrets place him out of range.”

  I roll my eyes. “You don’t believe that! You’re a dude! You want conflict to keep this going. You want the geeky guy to win the former geeky girl so the fanboys of the world will unite over their geekiness!”

  He doesn’t argue and I know I’ve touched on some part of the truth. “Whatever. Alex and Cole are wrong. He’s no match for her.”

  I’m standing over him and he’s just sitting there, taking all my rage and dramatics. His hands rest on his thighs and his head is pressed back into the couch. “Do you not care?” I ask, unable to comprehend his behavior.

  “Of course I do, Ruby. But maybe I can see something the readers can’t. Maybe I know what’s best for my characters,” he says and then adds, “among other things.”

  My jaw drops. “Did you imply I’m too dumb to understand the plot in your comic book?”

  He stares at me. “Of course not! But sometimes you’re so willing to trust and follow other people, you forget there are other options.” Now he’s agitated and his knee bounces under his hand. Anger flashes in his eyes. “There are other options, you know. This is your life, Ruby, not Iris’ or Andrew’s or your mother’s.”

  “Or yours, Gabe! Are you exempt? Because you sure as hell have no problem talking me into doing things for you — like playing a part I have no business playing, and pushing aside my other job and obligations to bring your character to life!”