Already Designed (The South Haven Crew Book 1)

by Xavier Neal

  “You have a visitor.”

  Quickly, I scramble out of bed and dart into the living room of my trailer, hopes soaring high.

  “Hey.” Lynn waves from where she’s sitting on my couch.

  I try to swallow my discontent. “Hey.”

  “Gonna go grab food,” Marlz announces to both of us. “Want anything?”

  “The teeny tiny bikini I have to put on requires me to pass.”

  He smirks at her retort, clearly picturing it, before eyeballing me.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  Marlz shakes his head disapprovingly. “You haven’t eaten shit in like three days.”

  “I had something yesterday.”

  His scolding look remains.

  “What! I did!”

  “Program upgrade now requires you not to consume human food too?” He shakes his head again. “Careful. Next it’ll have you not being able to drink or smoke.”

  Relax. I haven’t been smoking though I’ve come close. I’ve just been craving something to help soothe the anxiety of being so far away from Kadence at this constant rate. Yeah, I know it probably sounds crazy to you, but I went from having the most amazing woman in the world at my side every day to being lucky if I get to see her face once in twenty four hours. It’s driving me fucking insane. We’re gonna have to figure out some sort of better routine than the one we have before my next film because this shit isn’t working.

  Lynn hides her snicker over his joke.

  Marlz gives her an all too familiar predatory stare.

  Not needing him to do exactly what it is he’s considering, I loudly state. “Fine. Whatever. Bring something back, Marlz. Just make sure it’s grilled, that the meat is chicken or fish, and that it’s loaded with veggies.”

  He cocks a grin as he backs out of the trailer. “Which one of you has to squeeze into the bikini again?”

  I flash him my middle finger receiving a loud laugh before the door shuts.

  He’s really not funny.

  “You okay?” Lynn cautiously questions.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “You sure?” She crosses her legs. “Not eating is usually a sign something is wrong with a person.”

  I force myself to avoid professing how much I miss Kadence. “Yeah, I’ve just been more tired than hungry lately. Haven’t been sleeping that great….You know when we do get to sleep.”

  “Seems like we’re getting less and less chances every day.”

  We exchange small smiles.

  Afterwards, I fold my arms across my bare chest, and ask, “So, what’s up? What’d you need?”

  The nervousness in her voice is unmistakable. “Tonight’s the diving scene.”

  “Worried about me? ‘Cause I’m good. Basically, been diving since I learned to swim.”

  She hits me with a smirk.

  “This is actually the easy part of this role for me.”

  “I’m a little concerned with the scene leading up to the diving.”

  My eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

  “Because it’s a pivotal point between our characters. They have this whole live for each other, die for each other mentality, that they spend building the entire movie, and then we come to this moment. You’re getting ready make this iconic freestyle dive, a dive that you may not come back from if the criminals double cross you, and it feels like the script contains all this space and lack of connection in the blocking choices.” Lynn toys with the papers in her lap. “Can we run the scene a couple times? Maybe it’s just in my head.”

  Understanding her concern, I give her a reassuring nod. “Yeah. Give me a sec to throw on some pants and grab my script.”

  She’s just got first major role jitters. I remember what it was like. You wanna make sure every scene you’re in is fucking perfect. You wanna make sure you’re only giving the director your very best even if it means practicing until your voice is damn near hoarse. Honestly? She’s a great actress, and she should cut herself some slack.

  Once I’ve put on a pair of gym shorts, tucked my phone in my pocket in case Kady calls, and manage to locate my script that somehow got buried under Marlz’s dirty laundry, I return to the living room area of my trailer to do a run through. We execute the scene several times according to what is on the paper. Each time we make small adjustments aimed at addressing the obvious issues, yet we don’t succeed.

  Eventually an exasperated huff comes out of me. “This’ll never work the way it’s written.”

  “See.”

  “Francesco is gonna flip his shit. This moment is too important to be this flat.”

  “Exactly,” Lynn immediately agrees. “I’m thinking maybe we throw out the actions written down and do a little improv.”

  Her suggestion receives an inquisitive look.

  “It’s not the words that are screwing this thing up. It’s the distance. Our characters are notorious for having their hands all over one another. Let’s add it in. Let’s give it what the writers managed to miss.”

  “So you’re there,” I point to the spot she’s standing, “and I’m supposed to be here near the railing.” My body slides to the side creating a wide gap. “What if we touched fingertips? Created an almost desperate need to connect?”

  Our fingers stretch to touch, and we state our lines.

  Lynn shakes her head. “Feels forced. And awkward.”

  Momentarily silence falls between us as we quietly consider other ideas.

  “What if you pull me against you in between those lines?”

  The idea immediately starts to marinate.

  “Worst case scenario this is our final moment together. Wouldn’t you want me close? Wouldn’t you want us as close as fucking possible?”

  “Good point. Let’s try that, but make sure you stumble a bit, because you’re not expecting the pull.” Tossing my script to the side, lines more than prepared, I add, “You wanna feel the hesitation in me letting you go, and I wanna see the desperation in your eyes that I come back. Got it?”

  Lynn tosses her script to the side and firmly says, “Got it.”

  The first attempt at the pull is clearly staged. Everything about it feels wrong. We try it a second and third time, mixing up the lines with it, but the results are the same level of awful. Frustrations begin to run high as we both realize the brokenness of this scene could turn what is scheduled to be a short shoot for the night into an excruciatingly long one.

  Which is absolutely the last thing I want. Sleep. Food. My girlfriend’s beautiful face lighting up my phone. Those are the things I’m okay with having more of.

  “Let’s take it back a bit.” A heavy sigh shakes my shoulders. “Add a little run up to the scene. Don’t think about where we should be standing or where we need to end up standing. Just let this shit play out. Maybe the problem is we’re overthinking it.”

  Lynn nods, scoots back to her starting mark, and I move to the opposite end of the trailer.

  We each take a brief moment to get centered. Focused. In the zone.

  As soon as I’m there, I lock eyes with her, no longer seeing Lynn, the adorable up and coming actress that reminds me of my ex-girlfriend, but Rainne, the woman I would kill for. The woman I have killed for.

  Our bodies start heading for the same spot, eyes stealing glances of what should be a ship in the distance.

  “Ike….” Her voice quietly croaks.

  “Nah, baby,” I scold with a cocky grin. “None of that shit.”

  She presses her lips together. Looks down at the ground. Shakes her head.

  Rainne hesitates to inch her body closer, and I can’t stomach the distance. I know what’s at stake. I’m not a complete fucking moron. Every score comes with the same roll of the fucking dice. Death. It’s what comes with the territory. But she’s gotta know I’m gonna do everything fucking possible to get back to her.

  “Look at me.”

  “Something’s off, Ike. I know it. I can feel it. I-”

  I reach out and ya
nk her body to me by the wrist.

  Her chest hits mine with a heavy thud, but her eyes are still pinned on the floor.

  “Fucking look at me, Rainne.” My fingers force her chin up so our eyes can connect. “Everything’s gonna be fine, baby. Trust me.” She places a hand on my chest and my forehead drops to rest against hers. “I’m coming back to you. I’ll always fucking come back to you.”

  The shakiness in her voice causes me to squeeze my eyes shut. “You fucking better.”

  A small smirk crosses my lips before hers are pressed firmly against mine. There’s a soft sigh of relief from the impact yet the action staggers me backwards. Flicks the Ike switch off and the Levi one on.

  “That’s not in the script.”

  It takes a split second to realize the words I was thinking didn’t come out of my own mouth. My head snaps to where Kadence is seething in the doorway of my trailer.

  Oh shit!

  “Kadence!”

  She doesn’t wait for an explanation or even for me to say another word. She bolts, and I rush out of the trailer to stop her.

  “Kadence!”

  Andre approaches with two cups of coffee in his hand. “Grabbed you and Kady some caffeine. I wanted to stop to get the good shit, but she was in such a damn hurry to see you.”

  Guilt rapidly grows as I continue to chase after her. “Kadence!”

  “Why is she leaving?” Andre questions loudly.

  “Kadence!”

  “Where is she going!?” Andre continues to panic.

  “Kadence wait!”

  Swiftly she spins on her heels, and I damn near smash into her. “For what?!? For you to do a little more cheating then have the balls to call it rehearsing?”

  “It wasn’t like that, Kady, I swear!”

  “You swear?” The hateful laugh in my face hurts worse than I can hide. “You fucking say it, so I’m just supposed to forget what I witnessed with my own eyes? Supposed to forget that your hand was on her ass and her tongue was about to go down your throat and that neither of those things are in the script! The script I’ve read over and over again!”

  Our gathered audience should act as warning for me to back down. I know she needs room to breathe. A few minutes to let her emotions cool down. But I can’t give her that right now. I can’t let the weeds of doubt ruin us.

  “We were just rehearsing! Those actions were improv!” I emphasize. “We were working through some issues-”

  “And by issues you mean clothes?” Her head nods to my shirtless chest and loosely hanging shorts.

  Yup. Should’ve put on a shirt.

  “Kadence, I really really need you to believe me right now. What was happening in there was just. Work. I would never....never throw my life away like that. And that’s what you are, babe. You are my whole damn world. The beginning and the end. I may be in your life plans, but you are my life plan, Kady.”

  A faint longing appears only for a fleeting moment. “God, I hope they give you an Oscar someday because even now, even when I know you’re full of shit, I still wanna believe you.”

  The sentence bereaves me of the only breath I had left. Weakly, I call out, “Kady-”

  “Fuck you, Levi.”

  She returns to storming off, but a firm hand on my shoulder prevents me from pursuing her. I glance behind me to see Andre trying to offer a comforting stare.

  This can’t be over. It just.…It can’t! This isn’t how this ends! I can’t lose her. I can’t live a life without Kadence Allan in it. I don’t know how….I don’t wanna know how. I need to fix this. I have to fix this. I will fix this, even if means never acting again.

  Chapter 16

  KADENCE

  Pacing the beach area, I shout into my phone, “Why are all actors lying, cheating bastards?!”

  “This sounds like a good reason to stop talking to my agent,” Henley says with a hint of mirth in her tone. “Give me a few minutes, Ivan.” Sounds of her moving around are proceeded with, “What’s wrong?”

  “I walked in on him getting ready to give little Miss B-Cup mouth to mouth and before you even insult me by asking I will go ahead and tell you. No! It wasn’t in the fucking script!” My feet kick the sand in frustration. “How could I be so stupid to trust him? I know better, Henley! I know how actors behave! I know how lines get blurry and bonds get forged! I’ve heard horror stories! I’ve seen horror stories in the making! Remember when you did that movie with Simon!?”

  “Please don’t bring Simon into this,” she mumbles under her breath.

  “You two were all wrapped up in one another on and off set. And what happened!? What ended up happening, Henley!? He left his fiancée for you!”

  “Completely different situation.”

  “Is it?!” I squeak. “Or is it the exact same situation except I’m the idiot girlfriend at home refusing to believe my boyfriend isn’t testing the water with his Diet Britney every opportunity presented?”

  Now is not the time to talk about me making another Justin Timberlake reference!

  “I knew better than to date an actor,” my rambling returns. “Perfected lies and emotions. Trained truths. Fucking magic tricks to hide the fact they’re cheating….Ugh! I should’ve never done this to myself! I should’ve dated a teacher or a tech guy or a fucking nutritionist.”

  “Absolutely no to the latter. The last thing we need in the house is someone putting our fridge on lock down. It’s bad enough when it has to happen because I’m preparing for a role. I don’t think I could live a happy existence without always having a carton of Turtle Praline ice cream on hand. Think about how much heartache that shit has fixed.”

  “Gah, I could use some right now….”

  “And if you decide to come home, I will make sure I have a full one ready with two spoons.”

  “What the fuck do you mean if? Of course I’m coming home! I’m coming home the minute Adrianna answers the damn phone and can send one of her planes to pick me up!”

  This is a drawback to your best friend being the one in charge of providing you with free airfare. She disappears, and you’re stranded in the dark depths of hell unless you’re willing to shell out hundreds of dollars on a last minute commercial flight. Which for the record, is sounding better and better the longer I stand here.

  “She’s on a date.”

  “A what?!”

  “Yeah….”

  “With who!?”

  “She wouldn’t say.”

  “When did we become this group of friends? When did we start hiding from each other who it is we are involved with!?” The magnitude of my words stings harder than intended. I rush to repair the damage. “Henley I meant-”

  “Unlike the backstabbing twat that shall remain nameless, I don’t think Lani nor Adrianna are hiding who they are seeing so much as having to deem them worthy first. Lani basically admitted that when we brought Calen to the Christmas party. We’re sisters, Kady. You don’t bring home every guy you let crawl between your legs to meet your best friends the same way you wouldn’t bring home each one to meet your parents. I mean you do, but that’s really a different discussion.”

  Yes, I only sleep with men I can see myself being with for longer than six months. Does that make me a bad person? Is it so wrong to compare the goods and bads about someone before deciding whether or not to sleep with them? Is it such a bad thing to fuck responsibly? You know…the exact opposite way of thinking compared to the man I was dating. Yes I said was!

  “But speaking of being family,” Henley cautiously begins, “sisters also tell each other the shit they don’t wanna hear.”

  Her words grow a disgusting taste in my mouth.

  “The bitter, ugly truth is even if it wasn’t in the script there’s still a possibility what you witnessed was improvisation. It happens. Sometimes you read something in a script that doesn’t feel right so you work at it until it does. Sometimes this means changing the dialog or in some cases changing the action. Subtracting or in some cases adding
. Directors encourage it, especially directors like Francesco who is off his rocker when it comes to the chemistry of his actors. He’s literally known for it in the industry. I’m telling you as your best friend…your best friend who is practically your sister, that before you give into the temptation of spending five hundred dollars on a last minute plane ticket, you give him a real chance to explain.”