Landon & Shay - Part Two: (The L&S Duet Book 2)

by Brittainy Cherry

  But that didn’t seem like enough for me.

  I was one of the lucky bastards who had enough money to get me the best care in the world. There were so many people who didn’t have that same privilege—especially the youth. I wanted to look them in the eye and tell them my story. I wanted to remind them that just because they struggled, they weren’t alone. I wanted to create an open dialogue around mental health and give back both with money and my time.

  Joey had an issue with that idea, because in his mind time was money and if something wasn’t bringing us money, then we didn’t have time for it.

  “We don’t have time for that right now, Landon. It’s your primetime!”

  “It’s been my primetime for the past ten years.”

  “Exactly, which is why you shouldn’t let your mind slip. Think of everything you have. You have everything that everyone ever dreamed of. You’re fucking rich, you’re talented, and you could have any girl you’d ever wanted.”

  Not any girl—that was a fact.

  He continued. “I just don’t get what you have to be sad about. You’re Landon Pace, baby!”

  “Harrison,” I corrected. “Landon Pace is a made-up persona. That’s not who I am.”

  “Yes, but that’s who made you something.”

  I grimaced at his words. As if my acting career was what made me matter, other than the fact that I was a living, breathing human. I didn’t argue with him, because I was tired and I knew Joey wouldn’t see things from my point of view. He believed that money brought happiness and couldn’t for the life of himself understand what the hell I had to be sad about.

  He must’ve picked up on the energy of the room and he gave me a halfway grin. “Listen, how about this. Take the month off. We’ll do that, then film Ether here in Chicago, and then I’ll work it in for you to get some more time off.”

  “I’ll need six months to get started with what I want to do,” I told him, and I swore he cringed as if he’d been told someone was going to cut off his big toe.

  “We can work on the amount of time when we get there. Until then, take the month to get your head in check. I’ll handle everything else coming up. You just worry about keeping yourself together.”

  “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Joey.”

  “Anything for my star. It looks like the whiskey party was a success. You posed with all the right girls.”

  “I posed with every girl.” Except the one I wanted.

  “I know. Which is right. Sex appeal sells. That’s why your career took off from the jump—remember the Calvin Klein ad?”

  How could I forget the Calvin Klein ad?

  “I’ve sold enough sex appeal over the years. Now, we should think about letting the movies speak for themselves.”

  He must’ve picked up on the context clues that I wasn’t interested in more talk about work or the narrative I was supposed to push at gatherings. The mysterious playboy who never settled down, blah, blah, blah, blah.

  He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I’ll get out of your hair, but if you need anything, hit me up. Night, Landon.”

  “Night.”

  He let himself out, and I was left alone again with my dog.

  It felt as if I was finally able to breathe, now that there weren’t people expecting anything from me. I used to hate being alone, but the longer I lived in the celebrity world, the more I craved my solitude.

  In the past, being alone meant living with my heavy thoughts, and sometimes that was still true. Depression wasn’t something that went away with fame, success, and money. It still lived within me, and I was still fighting the battle daily to not slip too far away from the truths of who I really was.

  Dr. Smith had me do breathing exercises on the regular, and she was the reason I got into yoga many years back. Little things like that helped my troubled mind learn how to slow down a little. It didn’t always work, and sometimes I still stumbled and would spend nights awake, unable to curve the anxiety in my chest. But I was better than before, because I refused to give up on myself ever again.

  That night, I performed my breathing exercises and thought about my three good things.

  A month off.

  Shay

  Shay

  I knew I wasn’t supposed to name the same thing twice, but I couldn’t help it. For the first time in a long time, I felt as if someone saw me for who I really was—not some celebrity god or bullshit like that. She saw the real me, and even though she didn’t really appreciate what she was presented, it felt nice to be seen. If I saw her again, which somehow, I’d planned to do during my down time, I’d show her more of me, and hope that someday she’d let me back in. Because even after all these years, being around her still felt like home. A messed-up home in need of many repairs, but still—home.

  “So, what is your plan?” Dr. Smith asked me over our FaceTime. “Where do you go from here now that you and Shay reconnected?”

  We’d been talking for the past hour about the height of my anxiety and working through it. Unpacking the boxes of my stress one at a time.

  “There’s nothing I can do,” I said. “She hates me.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I could see it in her eyes. She looked beyond hurt after those two women walked up to us.”

  “Being hurt by you and hating you aren’t the same thing. Do you think there’s any chance you can make this right?”

  “I have no clue how to, plus with the way the media presented me at the whiskey party, I’m sure Shay wants nothing to do with me.”

  “But that’s not you, Landon. Not the real you, at least. It’s a made-up persona that is based on fiction. So, perhaps you now have a chance to get a redo with Shay. You said you have a month off, right? Perhaps now is the time to try to show her who you really are. What you’re all about.”

  “She won’t let me in that easy.”

  “I never said it would be easy,” Dr. Smith argued. “Nothing of importance ever comes easily, but it will be worth it. You know why?”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “Because this is the first time in years, I’ve heard you speak about something with a light in your eyes. A spark. The last time I saw you have that spark was because of the same girl. Don’t miss out on a second chance at happiness, Landon. Most people don’t get them, and even if it doesn’t work out, at least you know you gave it your all.”

  “How do I prove to her that I’m not the same messed up kid I used to be?”

  “Easy.” She smiled through the phone, then tossed her legs onto her desk. “Show her the man you are today. Your past doesn’t get to define you forever. You’ve done the work to improve your world. Now, you get to reap the rewards of your hard work. All you have to do is be brave to go for the things that scare you the most. The bravest people in the world live with fear—they just let their drive drown out fear’s sounds.”

  “I don’t know how to even connect with her nowadays.”

  “Think back. What was your favorite way of communication with Shay when you were younger?” Dr. Smith asked.

  I knew exactly what she was getting at, and even though there was a big chance it wouldn’t work, I knew I had to try.

  After I hung up with Dr. Smith, I pulled out a notebook, sat at the dining room table, and began speaking to Shay the only way I knew how to—with my truths.

  20

  Shay

  “How did you get so good at this?” Karla asked as she read over a few of my manuscripts with a look of awe in her eyes. I wished I could’ve had agents look at my words with such amusement the same way that fourteen-year-old girl stared at them.

  Karla was Greyson’s oldest daughter. She’d been through a lot of emotional and physical trauma after a massive car crash that took her mother’s life, and left Karla battered and bruised. She walked with a heavy limp due to the accident, and her face and arms had scars all over. She dressed in all black and wore her hair over her face to hide a few of the scars, but I was t
rying my best to convince her that her scars were beautiful.

  We’d met a few weeks ago when Greyson invited me to join the girls and Eleanor for a baseball game. Karla and I clicked, which seemed like a big deal, because Greyson said his daughter had been anti-social for a long time running. Ever since the accident, Karla lost a lot of her friends. They mocked her for her appearance and called her Hunchback—due to her posture.

  I remembered high school being cruel when I was there, but I couldn’t have imagined being in school with today’s technology. The things Karla had told me people had said and sent to her via social media made my skin crawl.

  How did we develop into a world where children had no morals? When did they become so cruel?

  Once Karla learned I was a writer, she asked if I could look over some of her stories. “You don’t have to, because I’m sure you’re busy, and wouldn’t want to waste your time with my stupid work,” she said, putting herself down—something I was certain she learned to do from others. “I don’t want to waste your time.”

  I hated how low her self-confidence was, and I wanted to help her build it up as much as possible, even if it was through her written word.

  Plus, I enjoyed her company. She was a good kid with a damaged heart, who just needed to be told she was enough.

  I once knew a broken boy with his own set of scars who’d needed to be told of his worth, too.

  What could I say? I had a type.

  I smiled as Karla’s eyes moved back and forth over my manuscript. “I’ll never be this good.”

  “No,” I corrected, taking the papers from her grip. “You’ll be better. You’re already better. So, let’s get back to work on your manuscript. We can plot out some of the major scenes and go from there.”

  She nodded with a frown, almost as if she was afraid to dive deeper into her story. I placed a comforting hand against hers. “You know you’re good enough, Karla, right? You are a beautiful girl with beautiful stories living inside of you. You’re allowed to let those stories out.”

  She lowered her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Do what?”

  “Call me beautiful. I know it’s not true, and that you’re trying to be nice, but you don’t have to lie.”

  I placed my finger beneath her chin and rose her stare to lock with mine. “You are beautiful, Karla. Every single piece of you, and the parts that you think are ugly, are truly the most stunning parts.”

  She huffed. “Tell that to the boys at school.”

  “Lucky for us, the boys at school do not get to define what beautiful is. We do.”

  She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head toward me, as if she was trying to figure me out. “How did you get so confident?”

  “Easy.” I shrugged. “I stopped saying mean things to myself.”

  “I can’t even think of a mean thing you’d ever say to yourself. I mean, look at you. You’re perfect. If I looked like you, I’d have every guy in the world wanting to look my way.”

  Oh, Karla.

  To be so young and boy crazy again.

  “You don’t need boys to look at you to be worthy.”

  “Says the woman who probably has every man looking at her.”

  “Just because they look doesn’t mean they will respect you. Trust me. I’ve been burned enough times by men to know that just because they think you’re beautiful, doesn’t mean they’ll value you.”

  Karla snickered, shaking her head. “You’re not going to win this battle, Shay. You’re the prom queen, and I’m the school freak. That’s just how it is for some people.”

  Before I could reply, Karla’s phone went off. I saw the words ‘Uncle Landon’ flash across the screen before she scrambled to answer it.

  My stomach knotted up from seeing his name on her screen. I knew Landon had been close with Greyson’s two girls, especially after the accident, but seeing the word ‘uncle’ next to his name made it clear that he was a lot closer to the girls than I’d even known.

  “Hi, Uncle Landon. What’s up?” Karla asked, holding the phone against her ear. She turned her back slightly toward me, but I didn’t miss the small smile that spread across her lips as she spoke to him. “Yeah, I know.” Her smile deepened. “Yeah, I know.” Then, she laughed.

  She laughed! The broken girl with such low self-esteem laughed at the words Landon was giving her through their call. That made my heart warm up. Even though I had my opinions on Landon, it made me happy that he was able to make Karla smile and laugh, because I knew she did both things so sparsely.

  “Okay, okay!” Karla laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. I’ll say it, but only because you’re being annoying about it. I love you, too. There. Happy?”

  She kept smiling, and the grin must’ve been infectious, because a smile landed against my lips, too.

  Karla cocked an eyebrow. “Wait, what?” She stood to her feet. “Really?!”

  I stood, too, confused by her sudden movements.

  “Okay, yeah. Okay, bye.” Karla hung up the phone, and that smile stayed planted against her lips. She looked my way and combed her hair over her face. “Um, sorry, Shay. Is it okay if we cut today’s lesson short? My uncle, Landon, is in town for a lot longer than he thought, and he wanted to take me out on a date.”

  The doorbell rang as her words settled into my mind. She began limping out of her room with her shoulders rounded forward and her eyes staring at the wooden panels. She always walked with her eyes glued to the floor as if she was too afraid to look up.

  I followed behind her, trying to control my heartbeats that were currently losing their mind inside my chest.

  As Karla opened the front door, she crashed her body into Landon’s who pulled her into the tightest embrace. He bent down to hold the young girl against him and whispered something into her ear that made her laugh again.

  That laugh.

  What a beautiful sound.

  As she pulled away from him, he combed her hair behind her ears so he could see her face. The way he looked at her as if he only saw perfection as opposed to her scars made every piece of resentment I held for him momentarily melt away.

  Then, he spoke the words that sent my soul into a tailspin.

  “How’s your heart, Karla?” he said, his voice low and controlled with such tenderness and care.

  She shrugged her left shoulder before letting it heavily drop down. “Still beating.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes as the familiar saying left his lips. I blinked away the emotion the best I could before swallowing hard and clearing my throat.

  The two looked over to me, and the shock that rocketed through Landon’s eyes from seeing me made me feel as if I was invading a very private moment. Then, his eyes softened as if he was pleased to see me there.

  I stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets and awkwardly swayed back and forth.

  “Oh, Uncle Landon, this is Shay! She’s Eleanor’s cousin, and is teaching me how to be a writer.”

  “You’re already a writer.” I smiled to the girl who hadn’t lost her grin since Landon arrived.

  “But I want to be great like you,” she commented. She turned back to Landon. “She’s an amazing screenwriter, Uncle Landon! You should be in one of her movies. She’s the best.”

  “I believe it,” he said, his stare still on me. He blinked a few times and parted his lips as if he had something more to say, but then he turned to Karla. “Maybe you should go get your coat and shoes so we can head out for the day.”

  “Okay,” Karla agreed, starting back off toward her bedroom. “Shay, maybe we can make up for the stuff we missed today and meet twice next week? If you have time. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

  “My time is yours.” I smiled. “I love our time together, Karla. You let me know when you’re free, and I’ll make it fit into my schedule.”

  She thanked me again before heading off to get ready for her date with Landon.

  I stood frozen in the foyer as Lando
n stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  “Hey,” he whispered.

  “Hello,” I replied, trying to keep myself cool and calm. Cool as a cucumber.

  Luckily, I wasn’t drunk off whiskey with this interaction.

  He stepped toward me and raked one of his hands through his messy hair. His hair, along with his appearance wasn’t as perfect as it was at the whiskey party. He looked like your everyday person—a really attractive everyday person—but still. He looked more like Landon Harrison and less like his actor persona.

  “I was hoping to talk to you again at the whiskey party, but everything kind of went crazy toward the end.”

  “I know.” I nodded. “I saw the magazines about the events that took place after you and I had our…situation.”

  He grimaced. “That was all smoke and mirrors.”

  “And models,” I added. “One must not forget the models.”

  “Listen, I’m in town for a bit longer than I thought. Maybe we can meet up for coffee.”

  “I don’t like coffee.”

  “You used to like coffee.”

  “People change.”

  “Okay. Maybe tea.”

  “It gives me gas.”

  He shook his head. “Tea doesn’t give people gas.”

  “What are you? The tea police? Mainly what I’m saying is, I don’t want to see you, Landon. The other night was a one-time thing. A mistake of the highest proportions. We were drunk, and made a mistake, and now we’re allowed to just leave it in the past.”

  “I don’t want to leave it in the past.”

  “Yes, well, it isn’t like we are ever going to have a future. So, again. Let’s keep it easy, okay? If we happen to cross paths again, then we engage on a very simple level. We are adults, now, Landon. We don’t have to be the angst-filled children that we once were. I know I said some things at that party that were heavy, but I was honestly wasted. I didn’t mean any of it.”