Taming Romeo

by Rachelle Ayala

  “Romeo, Romeo, Romeo,” everyone’s chanting and waving their hands. He sure knows how to work a crowd.

  “Thank you all for coming to this celebration. As you know, the party isn’t over before we have all of you up here singing. First, I’d like to thank Tito Rey and Tita Anna for letting us party hearty at the number one, numero uno, Pilipino restaurant in the world, the fabulous Barrio XO! XO stands for extraordinary, but more than that it is the kisses and hugs, food and friends.”

  The place erupts with cheers and foot stomping.

  “This first song goes to the woman who is my life.”

  “Whoo!” the audience shouts.

  “Some of you might think it’s my Nanay, and she is, because she gave me life. But tonight, I want to let the only woman in my heart know how I feel.”

  I cover my face with a napkin, not daring to peek at him or anyone else. We’re so different. He’s an attention hog, and I prefer to lurk in the background. At this moment, I’d steal Mr. Dee’s giant golf hat and gladly hide in the dumpster.

  A warm, strong hand tugs me. “Evie, come up here so I can sing for you.”

  He’s not doing this. Ohh, Emm, Gee. He is. My face boiling, I stare at my feet as Romeo pulls me onto the stage. The lights blind me and I think I see the red dots of video recorders.

  Romeo tips my chin so I’m looking into his smoky eyes. If I keep my gaze on him, I’ll relax and not do something stupid, like pee in my pants or trip on my toes.

  He turns toward Carlos. “‘Just Tell Me You Love Me’ by England Dan and John Ford Coley.”

  Too soon, the soundtrack plays and the lyrics appear on the screen, but Romeo doesn’t look at them. He’s focused on me, as he sings his heart, the years he’s waited, dreaming of me, savoring the memory of our first kiss and whispering through my silence.

  The lyrics urge me to tell him I love him. The words are so close to the edge of my tongue, but I can’t say them, because I have to be sure. My eyes become misty and even though I want to tear them away from him, I’m glued to him, tranquilized by his voice, suspended in time. If only I can tell him and know beyond a doubt, I would be his forever.

  He embraces me at the end of song and somehow we make it off the stage without any malfunction. The mic is passed to the next person, and before I know it, we’re dancing.

  Choco sings, Genie sings, Carlos takes a turn, even Tita Elena. She belts a mighty “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor and has the entire building rocking out.

  But when it comes to the last song, my father gets the floor. He takes my mother by the hand and selects “You Took My Heart Away” by Michael Learns to Rock.

  I look on with tears in my eyes. My mother mended his broken heart. She turned his gray world into one of color, love, and warmth. I want nothing more than to be like her: loving, forgiving, and the meaning in Romeo’s life.

  Chapter 22

  Monday rolls around. Our family day off. Only today, I’m going to the studio in Los Angeles. Dick arrives early in the morning to pick me up.

  He and Romeo are at the door talking to my father. I grab a water bottle from the refrigerator and take the sunscreen from my mother’s outstretched hand.

  I kiss her goodbye and wave to Choco and Genie. “What are you two doing today?”

  “Getting a haircut,” Choco says.

  “Prom dress alterations after school,” Genie says. “Mama, why do I have to go with Romeo?”

  “We went through this already,” Mama says. “You’ll have a great time and be safe. Evie won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “That’s the problem,” Genie mutters and plods to the kitchen to finish her breakfast and get ready for school.

  “You better watch her carefully,” Choco says. “I think she’s planning on giving you the slip. She thinks you’ll distract Romeo and poof, off she goes with some punk we know nothing about.”

  “If you know something, you better spit it out,” Mama says.

  “Nothing, just telling Evie to keep an eye out.” Choco passes the buck to me.

  Mama gives me the evil eye and takes her keys off the hook. “I have to drive Genie to school. See you later.”

  I get the feeling Genie is the one who’s now supposed to be watching me and Romeo. I’m going to have a talk with her. She’s always been the sneaky, quiet one.

  Dick makes a hurrying motion from the door, so I bid everyone goodbye and step after him to the Range Rover parked on the driveway. He jumps into the passenger seat while Romeo steers me into the back. It’s spacious, but I take the middle seat so I can cuddle against him the entire way to Los Angeles. He smells so sexy, like a dark, misty forest filled with mystery and musk.

  “Here’s your check,” Dick slides me an envelope. “Wanted to get that out of the way. Have you been to LA before?”

  “Yes, many times,” I reply. “Been to Universal Studios and Hollywood.”

  Romeo has his face in my hair, breathing against my ear. “Tell him to cut the small talk.”

  “This place is low budget, but we’re prepared.” Dick opens his jacket to show me a gun holstered to his side. “Just playing with you.”

  “I’ve been to South Central, except I was driving a ratty Toyota, not this thug magnet.” I squirm because Romeo’s hand wanders down the small of my back and hooks under my waistband.

  “We’re only going to Long Beach. It’s not that bad, so, do we want to go over the script? We have two hours.” He hands me a clipboard with directions. “Or, did you want to warm up with your co-star?”

  Romeo nips my earlobe and growls, “Tell him to turn around and stop gawking at you.”

  “Uh, sure. I think I’ll explore my co-star so I can be in the proper mood.” My voice comes out porn star sultry. “Please turn around and look out the window.”

  The driver guffaws, “Too bad we didn’t bring a stretch limo.”

  “Go for it,” Dick says. “I want you hot and bothered for the scene. If you do this one well, there may be more.”

  Thankfully he pumps up the radio and turns his eyes away from us.

  “I bought the outfit you’re going to wear today,” Romeo says. “But I couldn’t ask you to put it on this morning in front of your parents.”

  “That’s okay, I missed you, why didn’t you call or text?”

  “I knew we were getting together today. Besides you were probably busy all day at the restaurant.”

  “You’re telling me. The Padres played in the afternoon so we were packed before and after the game.” I shake my sore wrists. “My arms are killing me.”

  He rubs my forearms and spreads my fingers out. “These are surgeon’s hands. You shouldn’t be slaving away in a restaurant. Are you planning on going back?”

  “Eventually. Can we not talk about it? I just want to be with you as much as I can.” I smear a kiss on his lips, leaving a trace of lipstick.

  “You can’t get around it, Evie.” He pinches my chin, a little too forcefully. “I have feelings for you and I’m not going to let you go back to Boston without knowing where we stand.”

  A wave of nausea sweeps over me and I fan my face, turning toward the A/C controls on the console. I crank up the fan and point the air flow toward my face. Prickles and tingles flood over my chest and I’m seriously wondering if I have a heart valve issue.

  “Are you okay?” Romeo swipes his hand over my sweaty forehead.

  “A little carsick.” I lie, even though it’ll cost me my makeout session. Anything is better than confronting my feelings. I think I’m over Eric, and I want him out of my life, but I haven’t confronted him. Everything’s in limbo and I’m afraid.

  “Here, close your eyes and lean on me.” Romeo holds me against his chest. “Do you mind if I talk about myself?”

  “Oh, please. Go ahead.” I love the way his voice rumbles, and his scent is driving me wild. But starting something with Romeo would be too crazy, because losing him forever would kill me.

  “I’m thinking of qu
itting,” he whispers so Dick and the driver can’t hear him. “I’m twenty-four and haven’t hit the big screen yet. And I’ve been type casted as a soap opera actor. The only places I can get parts are Philippines and Latin America. If you haven’t noticed, Americans don’t watch soap operas anymore. Even All My Children was cancelled, so that scotches my chances of going to New York City and being a few hours from you.”

  I squirm and adjust myself so I’m more comfortable, my hand on his tight belly. So far I’m behaving. A warm glow draws a smile to my face. He’s thinking of relocating for me, but the truth is as he says, no film acting jobs in the East Coast.

  He plays with my hair and loops it around his finger. “So, I’m thinking of staying on in Southern California. My mother’s going to need more attention. I hate the thought that if I hadn’t been around, she might not have gotten to the hospital in time. She kept saying it’s nothing, just indigestion, but thankfully I was able to drive over.”

  “I wish we hadn’t turned off our cell phones,” I mumble. “I feel like it’s my fault.”

  “No, don’t think like that. You gave me the best night of my life, so far. I’ve no regrets. Do you?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t regret a single minute I spend with you. I only wish things were simpler, like they were when we were growing up. We used to see each other in school every day, eat lunch together, hold hands in the hallway and sneak off after school.”

  He hugs me tighter. “Do you know how special it is to hear you say that? Why don’t we try to make something happen?”

  This is what I’m afraid of. As long as we think we want each other, we’ll always be there for each other. But if we try and fail, we’ll never even be friends again.

  “Hear me out,” he mutters in my ear. “You can transfer to UC San Diego Medical School, and I’ll manage my mom’s bakery while trying out for parts in LA.”

  “I’m not sure they’ll let me transfer.” The edge of nausea returns. Maybe I really am carsick. “Medical school isn’t like regular college. They have slots that are designated for each student.”

  “I spoke to my mom. The chair of the school is friends with my dad’s family.”

  “Okay, maybe.” I swallow the bile erupting from my stomach and bend over with my elbows on my knees.

  “Evie’s sick,” Romeo says. “Does anyone have a bag? Or should we pull over?”

  “I might have something,” Dick says. “How about a empty potato chip bag?”

  “That’ll do.” Romeo takes it and sticks it in front of my face.

  Gross. Its cheesy, onion odor has me gagging. I shove it away. “I’m okay, really. Let me drink some water.”

  Romeo uncaps the water bottle and I take a sip. This is supposed to be a fun, romantic moment, but somehow I feel it’s going to be a long, drag out day. I should have brought my anatomy books.

  Chapter 23

  The studio’s location isn’t as bad as I thought. We roll up to a large warehouse in an industrial park. The sidewalks are lined with tall, spindly palm trees which sway against a brown tinged skyline. There’s no other greenery except for a few brownish strips of shrubs across the street.

  Large trucks, some sporting fancy designs with artistic images, are parked in the lot alongside motorhomes and trailers. The Rover meanders through the parking lot and stops in front of a rollaway door with the number twelve painted on it.

  “This is one of the largest independent production studios in the area,” Dick says, opening the door of the SUV.

  Romeo helps me out. “Are you feeling better?”

  I stretch and yawn. “Yes, I must have been overtired from work. The nap helped.”

  He quirks his mouth and dabs at the top of his shirt.

  “Oh, no. Did I do that?” I stare at the drool spot. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He hooks his arm around me. “After you stopped feeling sick, you got all warm and cuddly. I’m glad you’re rested because we have a lot of activity ahead of us.”

  Dick hands me the clipboard. “Go to the dressing room and have them put on your outfit and makeup. Then read over the actions. Be ready in an hour and half.”

  “Good, we have time for a cup of coffee.” Romeo snags the clipboard. “And we can go over our lines.”

  He takes my hand and walks with me into the studio’s coffee bar. A group of guys I’ve seen before are sitting there, so we step to their table.

  Everyone greets each other and Romeo introduces me.

  “So, you’re the new co-star,” one of the guys winks.

  The man next to him ribs Romeo. “Must be nice to get new co-stars every two weeks.”

  “Evie’s a friend,” Romeo says.

  “Ha, ha, that’s what you always say.” The first guy fist bumps him and turns to me. “Make sure you get all the benefits this guy offers.”

  “Has he shown you his Pokemon collection?” The second guy says, enunciating ‘Pokey Mon’ in two separate words.

  Romeo scowls and pulls me away from the table. “Don’t pay attention to them.”

  “Hmm… seems like they know you better than I do. I’m not hungry anymore.” I grab my clipboard and walk out to the hoots and jeers of the guys as they tease Romeo.

  Since Clicky paid me for this act, I’m too professional to walk off the set. I’ll just pay Romeo back with every excruciating minute he has to act with me. I head over to Studio Twelve and let myself into the wardrobe and makeup room.

  The wardrobe assistant fits me into the clothing, but I’m too upset to admire them. Everything is cut too short and shows too much skin. I wear a flesh covered camisole beneath the leather jacket which gives the illusion of me being topless. The skirt is so short that when I spread my legs, my panties would show. Again, they give me flesh colored panties that actually match my skin tone. Amazing.

  The bright red stilettos are so high I wonder if I’ll be able to walk without pitching head first onto my face, but the assistant assures me I will be in Romeo’s lap the entire scene. Ha, I wonder how he’ll feel when I stomp his foot with a spiky heel.

  Makeup is next and I swear, by the time they finish, I can barely recognize myself. I look like any number of interchangeable party girls with false eyelashes, large eyes lined with a flair at the edge, and fire engine red lips edged by a painted beauty mark.

  I study my lines as I wait for the lighting setup and camera adjustments to be made. A stationary motorcycle set on pistons and rods sits in front of a large green screen. Two large fans point toward the front of the motorcycle. I’m guessing they won’t film anything below our laps because of all the linkages replacing the engine below the fake fuel tank plate.

  Romeo saunters over and points to the clipboard. “Don’t forget to call me Zeke. You’re supposed to be mad at me, because you found me in bed with Mildred, you know, the math student? But I give you my sexy, signature smile and ask you to go for a ride on my vibrator.” He pats the bike. “Won’t you hop on and come with me?”

  “This is the stupidest plot.” I flip through the pages. “Who comes up with this crap?”

  He leans over and tugs at my flesh-colored camisole. “You ready to rehearse? We do it on a dead bike first so you get used to it. Then you hold on while they add the motions. Finally, when you’re good and hot, they turn on the fan. We record the dialogue separately because they’ll dub it in, so we can actually say anything we want. That’s when you tell me how much you love me and want to have my babies.”

  I slap him with the clipboard. But before I can take another swing, he captures my wrist and wraps his other hand around my waist. Then he bends me backward and lays a kiss on my cheek.

  “I can’t mess up your makeup yet, so no kissing until the shooting starts. Otherwise, we’ll be here all day.”

  “Thank God for small favors.” I snarl at him.

  He pinches my behind and smirks. “You’re so freaking hot and going ballistic. Good.”

  I can’t figure him out. Is this Z
eke Fernandez speaking or Romeo?

  “See you in five, Susie.” He winks and saunters toward the directors who are setting up their positions.

  I better take a chill pill. He’s in character. The guys were speaking about Zeke and trying to rile me up. This is good. My pulse is racing and my blood pressure is skyrocketing. I look steamed and ready to explode. I want to scream that I’m not just any co-star.

  I’m Evie, Romeo’s true love.

  But, in reality, am I? Does Romeo do the romance thing with each co-star to bring realism into the drama? Is this what great actors do? I heard they would often sleep together for real off the set so the onscreen scenes would show more intimacy. Unbidden tears of fury, because it has to be the angry kind, blur my vision.

  Oh, shit. I can’t mess up the makeup. I dare not wipe, so I hold my eyes open to dry them.

  “Time for the bike.” Dick claps and motions me over. “Remember, no real kissing. You get on, talk, resist, slap him a few times, and then he grabs your face and pretends to shove his tongue down your throat. After a few minutes of necking and petting, he unzips, off camera, of course, and you ride him. You did read the script, didn’t you?”

  “I get to slap him?” My eyes widen. I knew I should have studied the script better.

  “Yes, it’s step number six.” He takes my clipboard. “Second page here.”

  Romeo is already straddling the simulator. An assistant picks me up around my waist and places me in Romeo’s lap. Of course, neither of us are wearing helmets. That would defeat the purpose of the scene.

  I needn’t have worried about reading the script. Dick is standing over us and yelling the cues. He corrects me if I’m not doing something exactly the way he wants.

  “You’re not slapping hard enough.” He takes my hand and wallops Romeo.

  I’m beginning to feel sorry for him. Is he really a romantic leading man or the whipping boy for a comedy? Considering how he still has a bruise from the lechón scene, I wonder if he isn’t better off quitting.

  My arms and hands are sore from the struggling, slapping, and fighting. But all through the ordeal, I get to sit face to face, crotch to crotch with Romeo, er, Zeke. Gotta remember, it’s Zeke.