Every Pearl Has Its Oyster

by India Lee

  They decided to both wait at the open door, arms crossed as they watched Tyler’s gleaming black sports car roll up the driveway. Through the windshield, Gemma could see his immediate relief when he spotted her, keeping his eyes glued to her as he shifted his car into park and stepped out. His black t-shirt was rumpled as if it’d been slept in and his hair was actually messy – not messy chic like how he was styled for Carbine. Just plain, unkempt messy.

  “Shit. Someone looks rough,” Zoe said as he approached the front steps. Reluctantly, Tyler pried his eyes from Gemma.

  “Hey, Zo.” His jaw was tight. “Uh. Do you think I could have a moment alone with Gemma?”

  Zoe glanced at Gemma, staying planted until she nodded for her to go. “You really better have a good explanation, Ty,” she said, gravely serious for once before disappearing up the stairs and into her room. When she was out of sight, Tyler let out a big sigh at the ground.

  “Gemma,” he started, shaking his head a little. “What – what were you doing in San Francisco?”

  Her eyes fluttered wide open. “That’s the first thing you have to say?” She put her hand to her forehead, laughing so she wouldn’t spew expletives. “Time out. Okay, before we even address you sneaking over to Madison’s house, maybe we should talk about the fact that you were going to her for like, intel on me. Can you honestly tell me you don’t get why I was upset at you for bonding with Madison over my issues in high school? She fucking caused most of them, you know that right?”

  Tyler lowered his eyes, his jaw tightening again. “We can talk about that. I was going to. I just needed to know first that you weren’t in San Francisco to…” he trailed off, grimacing. Gemma had no idea her eyes could grow even wider.

  “I was there because I needed to get away. And I had Damian met me to talk to him, not… sleep with him!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe you even thought that, Tyler. Don’t you know me better?”

  He gave her a hard look. “No.” The answer made her reach for the door and ready to slam it, but he slapped his palm against it, easily holding it open. “I’m sorry. That was… I didn’t mean that. But if I was supposed to know for sure that you weren’t rolling around with Damian, shouldn’t you have known that I wasn’t doing the same with Madison?”

  Gemma shifted her weight to her heels and crossed her arms. “You weren’t, then?”

  “Gemma. Jesus Christ. No.” He rubbed his eyes, sliding his hands up his face and through his hair. He let them drop to his sides like weights, looking at her tiredly. “I can tell you everything that went on in my mind for the past seventy-two hours. You just need to tell me what was going on in yours.”

  “Fine.” Gemma relented. She looked down at the floor and then up the stairs. “I’ll get my bags and we’ll talk at home.”

  “Get your bags,” Tyler said, nodding up the stairs. “But we’re not going home.”

  She cocked her head at him.

  “We’ll talk on the plane.”

  ~

  Gemma stared at her toes as she sat on the ivory leather recliner next to the open window, the view of dark blue sky in her peripheral vision. Her toenails were painted lavender, a color that she hadn’t worn much lately. It had once been the signature shade of Queen Bee – seen most notably in her eyes, though it made frequent appearances in her wigs, couture and makeup. But since coming out with her identity and abandoning the tinted contacts, she felt like she should stray away from the hue altogether.

  Showing off her naturally green eyes made her happy anyway, like she was letting the world in on a secret about herself. That was what Tyler had made it feel like when she had first met him at Staples Center years ago. He’d been so thrilled to know something about her that no one else in the world did – it was the glimpse into her that he’d settle for after sneaking into her first L.A. concert, hoping to discreetly meet Queen Bee but ultimately causing a riot when fans identified him under his cap. Gemma wiggled her toes, laughing quietly at the memory, at the utter chaos he’d caused just for the slim chance of figuring out who she was. Apparently, grand gestures were always a part of his repertoire – whether it was for the purpose of meeting her or now, for keeping her. Sitting in the newest Gulfstream jet, Gemma was still letting it sink in that they’d soon be in Belize. “So when I’m done explaining things, we can relax together like we should’ve been doing since getting rid of Elizabeth,” Tyler had said. They had a tendency as a couple to find clarity on remote getaways, when no one and nothing was around to distract them.

  “Are you excited?” Tyler returned from the back of the plane where he had been pouring drinks. Gemma nodded as he handed her a glass of scotch. It wasn’t her usual drink, but she felt like she needed something stiff after their hour-long hash-it-out argument. He had started it by apologizing for seeking insight on her past from Madison, but his explanations for why he did it only incited fury in Gemma.

  “I figured that was the only thing Damian had on me,” he had said while staring at his fingers. “Understanding what made you the way you are now. What Madison put you through that made you so guarded.”

  “And she told you what she did to me? Accurately?” Gemma scoffed. Tyler nodded.

  “The mind games, the ‘slut’ rumors, the videotaping – the fight in the locker room. How much it probably messed with you since it was your first year in a high school.”

  How it made me hate being Gemma and depend on Queen Bee to survive. “Well, I’m so glad she knew what a sociopath she was being,” Gemma said sarcastically.

  Tyler ignored her remark. “She told me how Damian was the only one who was loyal to you. Lucas, Leah, Kate – they all were afraid of her.”

  “So despite that information, you thought it was a good idea to associate with her like they did? And you thought it was a good idea to do it again while I was in San Francisco?”

  “I didn’t think you’d find out.”

  Gemma threw her arms in the air, bursting off her seat to separate herself from him. “That’s a great answer, Tyler!” she snapped. He followed her down the length of the jet, red in the face.

  “The only reason I ever spoke to her was because of you, Gemma. So I could find out what made Damian such a fucking saint back then and replicate it for you. Because I can’t stand knowing that someone can give you something that I can’t.” The veins in his neck bulged as his voice rose. “And when you went to San Francisco, I needed to know if you two were really going to do what I was thinking, if you were really capable of screwing me over that badly. I didn’t know who else to ask about it and I waited all day resisting, but I was losing my mind, Gemma. I was in the kitchen breaking every glass we had imagining you and him finally…” He made a face. “Getting it all out. Doing what you never got to do in high school.”

  Gemma blinked, surprised. She had never explicitly told Tyler about not having had sex with Damian, but he’d probably gathered it from her admission that Lucas had been her first. And of course he’d figured that easy one out. She was pretty sure now that Tyler dissected every piece of information she gave him – he was that desperate to comprehend each and every facet of her life. To know her completely. It was a kind of love she couldn’t quite understand. One tinged with a complex that could only happen under the strange circumstances of their relationship – her two identities, Damian’s fame, Elizabeth’s impersonating, the media scrutiny. There was no doubt that it was hard on Tyler, but Gemma hoped whatever complex he had was somehow reversible.

  “Listen,” she started slowly, trying to find the right words herself. “You can’t be Damian and he can’t be you. I know the stupid tabloids are comparing you two, but if you ignored them, I swear you wouldn’t feel the need to track my every move and understand my every thought and make me feel like I can’t even breathe, Tyler. Between Oro and security, I was already suffocating. I am literally losing my mind. So what I need is for you to give me space and trust me to know how to live on my own – meaning I don’t need you to be my pro
tector.” When she finished her speech, she sighed, softening when she caught Tyler’s somewhat stunned expression. “Tyler,” she said with both exasperation and guilt. She crept over to him, reaching for his tense body, though apprehensively, as if he might give an electric shock if she touched him too quickly. But she felt him loosen slightly when her fingers brushed his chest and she eventually nestled into him. “All I need is for you to need you to be my boyfriend who loves me.”

  She felt him being still for a moment, but soon, to her relief, his body relaxed and he nodded. “That part’s always been easy.”

  ~

  It hardly dawned on Gemma that she was in Belize until the next morning when she awoke in bed. Framing the view through the windows of their thatched-roof bungalow were stalks and bushes of tropical flowers. Most eye-catching were the heliconias with their petals like individual sunrises. Beyond them and the forest of leathery mangrove trees, Gemma could see the staggering Maya Mountains. The scene was rejuvenating. It felt every bit like a new day.

  She brought her knees up to her chin as she sat up on the white sheets, only just realizing that she was alone in bed. But she didn’t mind – she could hear Tyler’s bare footsteps padding around the deck outside, and she was still busy breathing in the dewy view. Of all the spots in their history of getaways, he had certainly chosen the most breathtaking one yet. When Gemma saw him stroll into her view through the window, she felt forced to exhale. Seeing him shirtless, wearing just a pair of cargo shorts in front of the tropical scenery made her feel unfairly lucky. She barely remembered that as little as twelve hours ago, they were practically at each other’s throats.

  “Good morning,” he said through the open windows, his smile widening with hers. He looked happy just to see her happy. “Come here. I have something for you.”

  Gemma obliged, climbing out of bed and crossing the smooth wood floors to go outside. She bounded across the deck in her white tank top and underwear, prodding Tyler when she reached him. “Where’s my present?” she asked with her hands on her hips. He answered by tucking a brilliant red flower behind her ear as he leaned in to kiss her. She giggled against his lips, touching the soft petals in her hair.

  “So,” he murmured, cupping her shoulders and backing her against the railing. He slid his hands down her body and hooked his thumbs into the top of her underwear. “How’s it feel to be here without security?” He pulled her closer to him by her boy shorts. “We’re completely alone for the first time since…” He paused to think.

  “Who cares,” Gemma laughed, slinking her arms around his neck. “We’re here, they’re not. That’s all I need to know.”

  Tyler hummed a noise of agreement, burying his face into her voluminous morning hair. “If they didn’t come and get us, I could stay here forever with you.”

  “Mm. And record all your albums from the jungle. It could add to your sound, don’t you think?”

  Tyler smiled. “I’d just relax here. No work. Just you.”

  “Right,” she laughed, closing her eyes as she felt his kiss on her forehead.

  The remainder of their first day was spent entirely indoors, taking advantage of the privacy they’d been without for so many months. Gemma actually couldn’t remember the last time they’d had sex, but it soon didn’t matter because from the bed to the deck to a grassy spot below a mangrove, they were doing a fantastic job of making up for lost time.

  It wasn’t until the following afternoon that they stepped foot outside, going for a hike through the Maya Mountains. Along the trail, they followed a group of seasoned, shaggy-haired hikers who were on their way to “cannonball into the Macal River, man.” They didn’t flinch when Gemma and Tyler tested their luck by introducing themselves as “Joyce” and “Brendan”. It was hardly a surprise considering all they spoke about was hiking, whitewater rafting, skiing and wakeboarding – probably too outdoorsy to bother with gossip or pop culture. Tyler and Gemma did their best to act like fellow adventurists, breaking character only to grin at each other as if to say, I can’t believe we’re getting away with this.

  The reward for their efforts was reaching a forty-foot waterfall on which they got to watch their new friends jump from. Gemma tried to envision Andro doing the same in Croatia when he was younger. He was probably smiling, which required some true imagination. Though she laughed at the thought of happy, teenaged Andro, she couldn’t help thinking about how truly grateful she was to be so completely far away from him – from all her security. The feeling reminded her of finally being granted permission to go to sleepovers when she was eleven, which was kind of sad, but Gemma was entirely too happy to think about that. She was having too much fun swimming with the lone girl of the group while Tyler engrossed the guys in tales of the actual skydiving he’d done in the summer, leaving out the part about it being character research to star in Carbine.

  It just felt so wonderfully normal – but more importantly, hopeful. As if the sound of waterfalls and laughing voices could truly deliver a fresh new beginning for them.

  ~

  “Holy shit, that’s a lot of people.”

  By their fourth day in Belize, their cover was blown – not that they’d had much of a cover besides baseball caps and Ray Bans. But those disguises had worked well until they took the risk of sitting for a full meal in town the afternoon before. Gemma couldn’t resist – it was at a bright yellow coffeehouse sitting atop a tree and she was entirely too charmed to just pass it by, even though some tourists outside the place gazed at her with faint recognition.

  By the following morning, a crowd of fifty to sixty locals and tourists had formed to wait for them by the time they reached town. It only grew as it caught the attention of passersby.

  “Guess someone saw us coming,” Tyler said as they gradually slowed down, unsure of what to do since the crowd followed from a distance, watching politely for now. Gemma giggled, finding the situation so strange and absurd. She’d never seen fans so tentative before, moving like a school of fish as she and Tyler walked awkwardly to the treetop coffeehouse.

  Of course, the moment one fan sprung forward for a picture, the rest followed suit. Tyler grabbed Gemma’s hand and pulled her to his side, anticipating the jostling and grabbing that didn’t end up happening. It was just shy shouts of, “I love you!” and hats, shirts and even shoes being held out for autographs. However as the crowd doubled, so did the likelihood of running into the more obnoxious fans. Gemma separated her feet to hold a steadier ground as the shoving increased. Ignoring a few bold inquiries about Madison, Tyler held her to his side by the waist, exhaling in relief when police arrived in their khaki-colored uniforms to control the scene, eventually escorting Tyler and Gemma home in their car.

  “Change of plans. We should probably leave in the morning,” Tyler said once they arrived back. He looked slightly perturbed as they wound through the forest of trees that shrouded their bungalow from view, tugging at the neckline of his heather blue t-shirt.

  “Yeah, pretty sure that crowd will find us in within twenty-four hours,” Gemma laughed, remembering why in certain situations, security probably was necessary. But she couldn’t deny that her past four days alone with Tyler, without Andro or Mike, did some necessary good for her sanity. But it was enough. “We’ll leave tomorrow,” Gemma agreed.

  Tyler’s eyes were distracted. “That means I only have tonight left,” he said, mostly to himself.

  “You mean ‘we’, right? And I think I’ve soaked up enough paradise to last me till our next vacation, so it’s okay,” Gemma chirped to make him smile, which he did, though it eventually faded into back into frown. “Oh my God, don’t worry, Tyler,” Gemma urged, hugging his arm. “They won’t find us before we leave.”

  In preparation of the car that would pick them up by 10AM, they packed their bags – or rather, Gemma stuffed her tote again before going to help Tyler with the suitcase he had brought for the both of them.

  “I got it,” he said, nudging Gemma away. She frowned
and pouted.

  “I’m just trying to help,” she said. She tried not to heave a sigh. “If you’re worrying about us getting mobbed, please stop. It’s not going to happen and we’re going to be fine.” He didn’t answer, simply pulling the suitcase away from her reach and hovering over it possessively. Gemma plopped her butt onto the floor beside it. She hoped that Tyler wasn’t going through his protector complex so soon again – though if he was, she had a solution for it because she refused to spend her last night in Belize on an unhappy note.

  “What are you doing?” Tyler blinked up with surprise when he saw the crepe dress that she’d been wearing fly into his suitcase. Gemma smirked when his eyes landed on her, drawn first to the only thing she was left wearing – a pair of nude lace boy shorts. By the time his gaze trailed upwards, Tyler seemed to have forgotten that he was supposed to be stressed out about something or another.

  “Since we’re stuck indoors, anyway,” Gemma reasoned as she sat back, leaning on her hands and crossing her legs sassily, as if leisurely inviting Tyler to make the next move. He did, running his hand up her calf before manually uncrossing her legs and positioning himself between them. Once he laid her gently on the slippery floor beside the bed, Gemma pulled off his blue t-shirt. “Hm,” she hummed happily, delighting in the sight of his shoulder muscles. They flexed above her as he lifted her midsection to more easily peel down her boy shorts. When they were both fully undressed, she surprised him by pushing the heel of her palm into his chest and rolling over on top of him, paying no mind at all to how hard his body thumped against the wood floor. He was muscular enough to handle it.

  “Okay, then.” Tyler raised his eyebrows, still taken aback but definitely pleased by Gemma’s confidence as she arched her back and straddled him. He grasped her waist, lifting his neck off the floor so he could see how her hips moved in figure eights over him. But as Gemma continued, though he seemed to want nothing more than to watch, his eyes squeezed shut and his head tilted back again. “Holy shit,” he breathed, his lips remaining parted as if he intended on saying something else though he didn’t. Or more likely, couldn’t.