#Moonstruck_A #Lovestruck Novel

by Sariah Wilson

  He didn’t even wake up.

  “What just happened?” I asked, breathing heavily. Whether that was because of whatever the bus had just done or because I was currently flush against Ryan, I wasn’t sure.

  He didn’t help things when he reached up to pull my hair back from my face. It had hung around him like a curtain, but now he wrapped the length of it around his hand. “Vince really loves animals. He swerves for turtles and possums.”

  Ryan’s strong, steady heartbeat pulsed beneath mine, and my entire body lifted and fell as he breathed. “I should get up.” My voice was little more than a whisper.

  “I don’t mind.”

  Truth be told, neither did I. I liked the way he felt pressed against me, all strength and firm tightness. Muscle and sinew against my curves and softness.

  His free hand went to the small of my back, and my shirt must have ridden up a little because I felt his fingertips on my bare, blazing skin.

  Too much. Stimulus overload.

  I tried to stand up, ignoring the fact that every movement had me sliding against him, but he still had me by the hair. “Ow!”

  He quickly let go, and I finally got clear of him. I stepped back so he could stand as well.

  Ryan looked far too pleased with himself.

  “Was this some kind of trap?” I asked.

  “Yes, I arranged for Vince to almost kill all of us just for this moment. I knew exactly when you’d be walking down this hallway and set the whole thing up flawlessly.”

  Was it wrong that I found his sarcasm sexy?

  “But now that it happened, I’m not sorry it did.”

  Problem was, I couldn’t be sorry about it, either.

  So much so that after the show in Seattle, I said yes to something I probably shouldn’t have. Piper told us we had two days off. Some of the crew planned to fly home. I considered doing that, but Angie assured me she had a handle on things. I also thought about going to see the sights, like the Space Needle.

  Ryan offered me something that sounded far more interesting.

  “The reason we have time off is that the label hired Baylor Michaelsen to film a music video for me at Olympic National Park. Do you want to come watch?”

  I immediately agreed.

  Which turned out to be a mistake.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Baylor “Bay” Michaelsen was a director whose most popular movies featured constant explosions and scantily clad women. On our early-morning drive to the set, Ryan explained that Bay was trying to get into more indie and artistic films and had offered to direct this video. It would be an attempt to showcase a different side of his work.

  Ryan played the song for me that would be featured in the video. Considering it was a two-and-a-half-hour drive, we had plenty of time to listen. The song was called “Be With You” and was about a guy regretting his breakup and wanting to get back to the girl he wished he hadn’t left. It was different from the ballads on his other albums. There was a haunting quality to it. He sounded more authentic, more honest. Less synthesizers, more real music. I actually kind of liked it.

  Apparently, the label wanted to release the song and the video the same day. The production company had permits to shoot that day and the next, and then the editing would be completed in two weeks. As soon as we got to the set, Ryan asked for a production assistant who would keep an eye out for me. He said he’d see me later and went to get changed.

  The PA, a girl named Lauren, explained the concept of the video. It was about a love affair between a knight and a fairy princess. Her father, the king, had threatened to kill the knight if they so much as touched. They couldn’t be together, but it didn’t stop them from loving each other. Ryan would be singing his song as he searched the fairy princess’s kingdom to find her. We were down by the coast, and I could see these tall rocks off in the distance. Fog clung to everything.

  Ryan came out of wardrobe, and my heart nearly stopped. When they’d said “knight,” I had expected, I don’t know, a metal suit of armor or something. Instead, they had him in this black leather getup. His right arm was covered in scales, with small metal rings that went up and formed half a breastplate over his right pectoral muscle. On the left side there were three leather belts, one over his shoulder and two across his torso that held the bulk of his “armor” in place. He had a knife in a leather sheath with two tiny straps on his left arm. Leather pants with a sword scabbard and actual sword, along with matching boots, completed the outfit. They had left him unshaven, his hair wild.

  His armor was totally impractical for a real fight.

  But any fairy princess who denied him anything was obviously out of her mind.

  Lauren showed me to a chair and asked me to turn off my phone and be quiet. Since I hoped someday to shoot my own music videos, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize being able to stay. I wanted to learn all I could about the process. I did as she asked.

  “I’m assigned to you for the next couple of days. Is there anything I can get you? We have a craft-services table set up.”

  I was too wired to eat anything, so I told her I was fine.

  “Is Caryl here yet? Her call time was over an hour ago.” A man walked past me yelling in a British accent, followed by multiple underlings, and I realized he must be Bay Michaelsen. Lauren confirmed it a second later.

  “Why is he yelling?” I was afraid to ask it too loudly, not wanting to draw any attention to myself.

  “They hired Caryl Clausen to be Ryan’s love interest.” At my blank expression, she went on, “You know, the fashion model? Best friend of Skyler Smith? Anyway, she’s not here yet, and nobody can get her, her manager, or her agent on the phone.”

  “We’ll do some of Ryan’s solo scenes first. I need him down by the water and in the boat!” Bay directed, and everyone scrambled to do as he commanded. They loaded Ryan into this rinky-dink rowboat and took him out into the Pacific Ocean. The low-hanging clouds swallowed him up. Bay called “Action,” and Ryan rowed the boat toward the beach, breaking through the fog and mist to land on the rocky shore. He jumped out looking determined and mysterious and began walking up the coastline. I could see that the camera angles would catch the snowcapped mountains off in the distance.

  I realized I’d been holding my breath when the director yelled “Cut.” They made Ryan do the same thing five more times until the rising sun began to burn off the fog.

  “Moving on to the next location!” Bay called out.

  “The vans are this way,” Lauren said, pointing me toward the road.

  I loaded up with a bunch of crew members, and the hot topic was the missing model. There was no time to delay production because of Ryan’s touring schedule and the song’s release date.

  We pulled into what Lauren called a “temperate rain forest.” The trees were massive and covered in moss, with vines hanging down everywhere. Ferns grew among the trees along with wild grasses. I could see why they’d chosen this spot to stand in for a fairy kingdom. When we parked and got out of the van, I saw a camera already set up and covered in plastic because of how wet everything was. A bright-blue river ran just past the grove of trees, gently rushing over small rocks.

  “I have Caryl’s agent on the phone!” A woman with a headset rushed over to the director. “She’ll be here in half an hour. Apparently there was some kind of mix-up on their end about the correct call time.”

  “Tell wardrobe and makeup to get ready for her so we can hit the ground running,” Bay said. And his expression clearly indicated that he didn’t believe there’d been any kind of mix-up.

  I again took a seat and watched as the director had Ryan walk through the trees, searching for his lost love. He had Ryan cut through some vines, hack down some ferns, and I realized they’d given him a real sword.

  Then Ryan stood in front of a fallen cedar tree, and they blasted the music through a sound system so he could sing through it three times. The director asked him to try some different things while singing, playing
different emotions on some of the lines. The music was so loud I couldn’t tell if he was actually singing or just lip-synching. Lauren explained that it didn’t matter. They would overlay the track while editing. Some stars preferred mouthing the words, and others sang for real so they would match the song’s intensity. I knew what she was talking about. There was nothing more distracting than watching a music video and seeing the singer’s mouth barely open even though they were supposed to be hitting a high note that I knew took physical effort.

  About two hours later, Caryl arrived on set in her costume. They had her in a gauzy pink-and-purple dress with sparkles all over the bodice. She had bright-silver makeup around her eyes. She was blonde, tall, ethereal-looking. I could see why they’d picked her.

  “What took you so long to get here?” the director asked.

  “Things happen. So sorry,” Caryl said with a smile that looked totally fake.

  One of the makeup artists stood next to Lauren. “She spent the last hour fighting with me over every product I used and the final outcome. I showed her the concept art, but she didn’t care. It’s not like she has to worry if I get fired.”

  “Where are your wings?” Bay barked at Caryl, and she looked supremely bored.

  She named a famous lingerie company and said, “Contractually, I’m allowed to wear wings only for them.”

  This led to more yelling, with Bay demanding that someone get Caryl’s agent on the phone. She sat in a chair texting while all this was going on.

  “Maybe we could add them in digitally later,” the assistant director said to Bay, and he agreed to start shooting. They had created a throne made out of twigs and flowers, and Bay told Caryl to sit in it. With a loud sigh, she went over and sat down.

  Bay explained the shot, how Ryan would walk in slowly and then kneel in front of her throne. “Try to look like you adore her.”

  “That’ll be difficult,” somebody murmured nearby, and I had to agree. Caryl kind of seemed like a brat.

  “Wait, are you filming from this side?” Caryl indicated her right side.

  “Yes, because that’s where the cameras are,” Bay growled, obviously getting more irritated by the minute.

  “You can film me only from my left side. That’s in my contract. Also, I don’t do natural lighting.”

  Was Caryl saying she didn’t do the sun? The light source surrounding us everywhere right now?

  “We’re already set up,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “That doesn’t really sound like my problem.”

  Bay’s face turned bright red, but he gave in and had the crew carry the camera to the opposite side of the throne. Light panels were brought out for Caryl.

  “Don’t forget I have to approve the final cut,” she said with a smirk, and it almost felt like she was enjoying the chaos and problems she was creating.

  At this point, the director just ignored what she was saying. “Play back the music and . . . action!”

  Ryan did as he’d been asked, slowly walking up to the throne and bowing to the princess. Caryl looked at him like he was a bug on the bottom of her shoe.

  “Cut!” Bay called out, frustration evident in his voice. “Caryl, you have to look at him like you love him. With longing. Let’s go again!”

  They did the scene over, and her reaction was exactly the same as the first time.

  Bay told everyone to stop. He approached the throne. “Do you know what longing is, Caryl?”

  “He should just tell her to pretend Ryan’s a doughnut or a new Birkin bag. Maybe she’d get it then,” Lauren said to the makeup artist, and I tried very hard not to laugh.

  “Again!” Bay shouted.

  Again, Caryl looked hostile.

  “That’s not longing!”

  “I’m the professional model. I know how my face looks best, and that’s what matters in this video. You hired me for how I look. You let me do my job, and you do yours.”

  “That’s it! I am done. You are fired,” Bay shouted back. “You are in breach of contract. You were four hours late for your agreed-upon call time. You’ve done nothing but cause delays. You refuse to take direction and won’t wear the wardrobe. I will not tolerate your selfishness and disrespect. Get her off my set!”

  “Fine. I will still get paid. You’ll be hearing from my people,” Caryl said as she sauntered off.

  “Yeah, have the head nurse call us,” the makeup artist muttered, but I couldn’t laugh this time. Now what would they do?

  “I can’t believe any of that just happened,” I said. “How could she be such a jerk?”

  Lauren let out an undignified snort. “I’ve seen so much worse. Once you get enough fame, you can be horrible, and people put up with it. The stories I could tell you . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  It made Ryan’s down-to-earth behavior even more admirable.

  I was distracted by the sound of desperate arguing. I was close enough to the director and his team that I could hear everything they said.

  “You have to apologize and get her back. We’re in the middle of a national forest in Washington. Who else are we going to get to play this part?”

  “Could we have him never actually find the princess? The whole video is about him searching for her?”

  “Maybe when we get to LA we can hire someone new and put her in front of a green screen and then add her in to the scenes.”

  “That won’t work. Ryan’s supposed to interact with her.”

  “Why can’t Maisy do it?”

  That last line was from Ryan.

  “Who is Maisy?” Bay asked and turned to stare at me when Ryan pointed.

  “She’s the lead singer from my opening act. She’ll be here today and tomorrow.”

  The director stood in front of me, studying me. “Do you have any on-camera experience?”

  Other than YouTube? Not so much.

  “Wait a second. I’m not an actress.” I was also not interested in trying to become one. I didn’t want to screw up Ryan’s video.

  “To be fair, and no offense, but neither is Caryl Clausen,” Ryan said with a wink.

  “People say no offense when what they mean is I’m about to insult you but don’t get mad. It’s rude.” Why my mother’s words came out of my mouth just then I couldn’t have explained. It was like the main part of my brain was freaking out, and so dumber parts were free to speak up.

  “I didn’t say it to Caryl, so it doesn’t count.” Ryan looked as if he was really enjoying himself.

  “She could work,” Bay announced. “Get her into hair and makeup and then into the actual wardrobe, including the wings. Do you mind if we dye those red streaks pink or purple to match the outfit?”

  “Don’t I have to agree to it first? Sign a contract?” I asked as someone reached for my elbow.

  Ryan knelt in front of me as he had for the fairy princess. “We’ll give you the money we were going to give to Caryl. Please, fair maiden, be in my music video so we don’t waste over a million dollars.”

  I didn’t know if Ryan had personally contributed to that amount, but given his financial situation, all the ways I owed him, the offer of even more money, and that he was kneeling—how could I say no? “I’m really not an actress.”

  “You’ll be fine,” he assured me. “Do you mind if they dye your streaks?”

  “No.” I could always redo them red later.

  “No, you won’t do it, or no, you don’t mind about your hair?”

  “I’ll do it,” I told him. “And I don’t mind about my hair.”

  Have you ever regretted a decision so quickly that you felt a blinding pain right behind your eyeballs?

  This is a mistake! kept running on repeat through my brain as the beauty team got me ready. I knew I would go out there and make a total fool of myself. The hairstylist decided on purple streaks, as all she had to do was add some blue to the red. My hair, makeup, and outfit were completed in record time. The dress was too long, so the head of wardrobe slashed off fou
r inches or so, giving it this jagged look that somehow worked. As if the dress had always been that way.

  All the same, I felt like a little girl wearing her mother’s shoes and outfit. I was a fake and a fraud, and soon they would all know it.

  The success of this video now rested on my untrained, unprepared shoulders.

  I was glad I hadn’t eaten that morning because I seriously felt like I was about to puke.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bay had me go to the throne recently vacated by Caryl. It wasn’t uncomfortable, as I’d imagined. There was even a cushion. In fact, it was far more comfortable than the collapsible chair I’d been in all morning. Bay called Ryan over, intending to speak to both of us at the same time.

  “This is a song about loss. It’s also a song about aching regret. About desire. About wanting someone so badly, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t even touch each other. You can’t change your situation or the fact that you’re from two completely different worlds.”

  It was starting to hit a little too close to home.

  “You’re a princess, and he’s a lowly knight who would do anything for you—slay any dragon, defeat any foe, defend your kingdom. But you’ll never be together. It will never be real. It will never work, and it’s killing you both.”

  Now I was sure that Bay Michaelsen was straight trolling me.

  “When he kneels, I want you to look at him with longing. Like he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and all you want to do is kiss him and hold him, but you can’t. Ryan, when you look up at her, I want to see the same thing on your face.”

  This was probably the most nervous I’d ever felt in my entire life. They started the music, and Ryan walked through the forest to me, then knelt at the base of the throne.

  When he raised his eyes to mine, I gasped and started breathing hard. He looked at me with so much desire, with so much naked want in his eyes, that I had to grip the armrests of the throne to not fling myself at him.