Starbright

by Richland, Alexandra

“She’ll explain it better than I can because I don’t have much time, but basically, Lydia Dale is in some major trouble.”

  Aidan chuckled. “Serves her right. I can’t stand that broad, especially after the fucking stunt she pulled on New Year’s.”

  “I knew you’d be happy.” Nathan placed a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to get back to the office.”

  Aidan nodded. “No problem, man. Catch ya later.”

  Nathan took off down the corridor and Aidan continued on his way to Beth’s dressing room. Why would Nathan pay her a visit just to tell her about Lydia? He shrugged. It probably had something to do with Venus Rising.

  Aidan knocked on Beth’s door and was greeted with a warm smile that melted away his apprehension. He stepped inside and captured her in his arms, kicking the door shut behind him. As he kissed her passionately, his mind shifted to the scene today where Joe fell apart before Mary. He grimaced against her lips.

  Beth broke their kiss. “Are you all right?”

  Aidan trailed his lips down her neck. “Help me forget, baby.”

  Beth pressed her palm to his cheek. “Forget what?”

  Aidan took her hand and lowered it from his face. He thrust his fingers into her hair and recaptured her mouth with his, focusing on nothing but skin and heat and their everlasting love.

  Beth tilted her head back, her breasts jutting forward as her spine curved, folding her body into his. He held her gently, dancing his tongue across her collarbone.

  A loud knock at the door caused Beth to jump. With a frustrated groan, Aidan pulled away.

  “What do we do?” Beth’s eyes darted to the door as their visitor knocked again.

  Aidan grabbed her script. “Here, take this.”

  He took his own script out of his pocket while Beth answered the door and greeted a crewmember, holding hers in plain view.

  “Good morning, Miss Sutton.” The crewmember looked over her shoulder at Aidan. He stood in the middle of the room, putting on the coolest of fronts. “And you, too, Mr. Evans. I’m sorry to interrupt your rehearsal, but Mr. Kazan would like you both on set now.”

  “Please tell him we’ll be right out.” Beth’s reply was calm and breezy, though her flushed cheeks hinted at her intimacy with Aidan moments ago.

  “Yes, Miss Sutton.” With a nod, the crewmember left.

  Beth shut the door and turned to Aidan. “Are you ready?”

  Aidan tucked his script back in his pocket and forced a grin. “Yeah, absolutely. It’s gonna be a great scene.” He exhaled a deep breath and pulled the door open, gesturing to the hallway. “After you.”

  “Why, thank you.” Beth skirted past him with a giggle.

  Aidan curled his sweaty hands into fists as he walked down the corridor, trying to focus on Beth’s calming presence and Kazan’s words of reassurance. When the set came into view, however, his self-doubt reemerged with crippling intensity.

  This was one instance where his Method acting background put him at a serious disadvantage. If he didn’t loosen up, he could very well spoil the scene and not only let Beth down but make a spectacle of himself in front of the entire Golden Gloves company.

  Relaxing his hands, he threw a determined look in Kazan’s direction. No matter what, the scene was not going to ruin him.

  A hush blanketed the soundstage under Kazan’s orders. Beth glanced at Aidan beside her, recalling his frantic plea in her dressing room.

  Help me forget.

  There had been a tragic urgency in his voice, fueled by what she felt certain was something he had yet to share with her. She didn’t press him at the time because he seemed so desperate, but she would address her concerns with him tonight when they were alone.

  After her makeup was touched up and her script taken away, Beth focused on the upcoming scene, which required her to confront Joe with gumption. It was her only hope of delivering her lines successfully.

  “Get ready, everyone!” Kazan took his place near the main camera.

  Beth and Aidan turned to each other.

  The clapperboard sounded off.

  “Action.”

  “Joe, I have to speak with you.” Mary released a calming breath. “George came by today.”

  Joe’s eyes widened. “He was here? In our apartment?”

  “Yes. We spoke only briefly, but it was a very important conversation.”

  Joe paced the living room, his hands making a mess out of his hair. “What was it about?”

  “He wants you to return to the ring.”

  Joe came to an abrupt stop. “No way. I won’t do it.”

  Mary lifted her eyebrows. “No? But I thought—”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “But Joe!”

  He scowled. “I said no.”

  “What George said made a lot of sense.” Mary placed her hand on Joe’s forearm. “He told me how much you love boxing and how you deserve to fight again. You must do it.”

  “Honey, I can’t.” Joe pried out of her grasp and stalked across the room.

  “Of course you can.”

  “Just drop it, will ya?” He snatched his jacket off the rack in the corner. “I gotta go to work.”

  Mary placed her hand on her hip. “At the stupid factory.”

  Joe fixed her with a look so menacing, her heart quivered. “Yeah, that’s right, darlin’—the stupid factory. The job that’s paying for our future and everything we have now.”

  “But you hate it there, and the pay is paltry! If you want to make money using your hands, why not do it in the ring?”

  Joe’s gaze shot toward the door. “I never enjoyed boxing.”

  “Joe Oliver, that’s a boldface lie and you know it!”

  “I’ve settled into my job at the factory, Mary. It’s steady pay. Plus, Sal and I got this business venture in the works—”

  “Sal is your dear friend and a nice guy.” Mary set each word down carefully. “However, I’ve heard around the neighborhood about some of his past endeavors, and I don’t think you should involve yourself in any of his dealings.”

  “So you’d rather me pummel guys with my fists for a living, is that it?”

  Mary shook her finger at him. “Don’t use that tone with me. I’m just trying to help.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not.” Joe cringed at the hurt that passed across her face.

  Mary cradled his cheek in her hand. “Please, let’s not fight.”

  He sighed. “I don’t want to fight, either. I love you.”

  “And I love you. That’s why I brought this up.” She gave him a soft smile. “George’s suggestion sounds like the right thing to do. There’s a bout coming up in six months that you could enter. He said he’d give you all the proper training, just like the old days.”

  “The old days…” Joe sneered and shook his head.

  “I’ve heard the stories,” Mary said, caressing his cheek. “I know how great you were—how you could’ve been the best—but you quit before the championship fight.”

  Joe removed his mask of anger and indifference, revealing an expression bursting with vulnerability and pain. “I quit because I killed my opponent. Don’t you understand? I killed him.”

  “Joe, what happened all those years ago—”

  “Was my fault.”

  Mary’s lower lip trembled. “No, that’s not true. It was an accident.”

  Joe sauntered backward to the door, his hand covering his heart. “I can’t go back there, Mary. I’ve spent years trying to get outta my head what happened. The only way to cope and move forward is to suppress the painful memories as best as I can. If I step into that ring, my old wounds are gonna rip open, and they’ll kill me.”

  “What’s killing you is being stuck in a dead end job, working for a boss who doesn’t even know his employees by name… whose cronies assign you tasks that make you feel miserable. You’re better than that, Joe. You’re destined for bigger things, I know it.”

 
Joe crossed his arms over his chest, as though he was trying to prevent her from reaching the scared boy within him. “You’re wrong about that, honey.”

  “What happened that day was an accident,” Mary repeated. “Your opponent suffered an aneurysm, which the doctors said would’ve happened anyway, regardless of your hit.”

  “My punch triggered his early demise.” Tears shimmered in Joe’s eyes. “I hit him too hard.”

  “Stop blaming yourself.”

  Agony distorted Joe’s face. “I killed him! I’m a sinner. A murderer!”

  Mary’s hand flew to her mouth. “No, don’t say that.”

  “Don’t you understand?” He charged at her, shoving his thumb to his chest. “I should’ve been locked up for what I did!”

  Nestled within Joe’s words was a painful regret that appealed to Mary’s determination to help him recognize the truth. She blinked rapidly, spilling hot tears down her cheeks.

  “You’re a good man, Joe Oliver! I won’t hear any different. Not from you or anybody else!”

  “His blood is on my hands. Stepping into the ring again will not redeem me, even if I do win a title.” Joe lifted his face to the ceiling. The overhead lights illuminated the torture in his eyes.

  “I’m no good.” He raised his arms in the air. “I killed her. I killed her!”

  Jolted out of the scene, Beth staggered backward, feeling the blood rush from her cheeks to her toes. Murmurs erupted throughout the soundstage as the crew registered Aidan’s error.

  Her.

  The devastation that besieged Aidan’s face when he came to the same realization nailed Beth’s heart to her stomach and her feet to the floor.

  With a strangled curse, Aidan tossed Joe’s jacket aside and punched the living room wall on his journey off the set, leaving a ragged hole in his wake. The soundstage remained deathly quiet even after he was gone.

  Beth finally gathered her wits. She raced after him, ignoring Kazan’s calls.

  Aidan’s closed dressing room door muffled the vicious curses, bangs, and sounds of shattering glass within. His mistake with his lines reflected a far deeper despair than he’d ever let on, and Beth felt powerless to help him. At the same time, he needed her right now, even if she could only provide a silent, supportive presence.

  She tried the handle, but he’d locked himself inside. She pressed her palm to the door and closed her eyes, listening to the violent crashes on the other side.

  “Aidan?”

  The noises stopped abruptly, but he didn’t respond.

  Beth tried again. “Aidan?”

  He still didn’t reply, but this time she was certain he heard her.

  Kazan joined her in the hallway. He stepped up to the door and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Aidan, open up. Let’s talk.”

  Following several moments of heart-wrenching silence, Beth heard Aidan’s sluggish footsteps venturing in her direction.

  “No offense,” came his gruff response. “But I just wanna be left alone.”

  “Beth’s here.” Kazan caught her desperate gaze. “She’s worried about you. I’m worried about you, too.”

  Aidan exhaled deeply. “I just—I can’t. Please, leave.”

  “Unlock the door.” Anguish lined Beth’s appeal. “I need to see for myself that you’re all right.”

  “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

  Beth frowned as she heard Aidan walk away from the door. Now it was so clear why he’d acted so withdrawn lately. She chastised herself for not recognizing the truth sooner.

  “Mr. Kazan, may I please have a moment alone with him?”

  Kazan nodded. “Take your time. I’ll smooth things over with the crew, chalking it up to a mistake with his lines. Knowing how dedicated Aidan is to Method acting, his overreaction shouldn’t come as a surprise to them.”

  With a fleeting look at Aidan’s dressing room, Kazan took off down the hallway.

  Beth squared her shoulders and knocked on the door again. “Aidan, I asked Mr. Kazan to give us some privacy. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to help.”

  “I don’t want you to see me this way.” Aidan’s meek reply flooded her eyes with tears.

  “I don’t care.” She rested her forehead against the door. “Please.”

  Beth stepped back as Aidan fiddled with the lock. When he finally opened the door, their eyes met and fell away, many unspoken words crossing between them.

  Aidan looked full of guilt and despair as he stood before her, avoiding her concerned gaze. It was as though he expected her to scold him or tell him he’d let her down, similar to what he’d heard often from his father in the years following his mother’s murder.

  As Beth entered the dressing room, she surveyed the damage. A chair was overturned and glass from a broken vase lay scattered near one wall. Its former contents—a bouquet of lush carnations—fanned out on the floor in a pool of water, which trickled in a small stream along the concrete.

  Aidan headed to the back of the room, leaving Beth to close the door. With slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, he leaned against the far wall. Her heart bled. People all over the country worshipped him, but here in this dressing room, she could see he felt very much alone.

  She took a moment to choose her next words. “Whatever is troubling you, we’ll get through it together. As always, I’m here for you.”

  Aidan’s lower lip quivered. “I tried, baby. I tried to make it through, but I couldn’t.”

  “So you need a moment. That’s fine.” Beth shrugged, trying to maintain a casual front in hopes of easing his remorse. “Take as much time as you need to regroup, and then we can go back out there and complete the scene.”

  Aidan shook his head. “I can’t just take a moment and then everything will be okay. I’m a permanent failure.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re a great actor who was really involved in a scene. There’s no need to be ashamed of that.”

  Aidan raked his hand through his hair, looking as jumpy as a boxer waiting for the starting bell. “I shouldn’t have let the scene get to me. I prepared for it, and I still messed up. What kind of man am I if I can’t keep myself together?”

  Beth decided to call him out on what she now knew was the source of his mistake on set. “You think Joe’s self-blame in the scene parallels your own, but like his guilt over the mishap with his opponent five years ago, your mother’s death wasn’t your fault.”

  Aidan’s face became void of emotion. “You got the first part right.”

  “You shouldn’t blame yourself. Just like Joe shouldn’t. You’re both fighters, and in the end, you’re going to win this battle because you’re a good man with a kind heart. Also, like Joe, you have a woman who loves you and who will support you every step of the way.”

  Aidan remained silent.

  Beth approached him carefully. “Please don’t keep things from me. I know you want to protect me, and yes, you are strong enough to prevail without my help, but the thing is, I want to help you. Nothing you say or do will ever turn me away. Let me in… please.”

  “I worry I’ll never be healed.” Aidan bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I’m trying so damn hard.”

  “There are no apologies needed when it comes to you and me,” she replied softly. “And I have the utmost faith that you can conquer anything. It just takes time, so please don’t feel like a failure.”

  “I’ve had plenty of time already.”

  “Don’t pressure yourself. It will only make things worse. You’re heaven sent to me, and I have no doubt you’ll get through this.”

  Aidan’s eyes met hers, glistening gateways to his wounded soul. “Baby, I’ve got broken wings.”

  Tears sprung to Beth’s eyes at the sudden thought of Aidan as a small boy, looking as distraught as he did now, sitting at the piano and playing tunes weighed down by tragedy, grieving over the loss of his mother and emotional abandonment by his father; an orphaned spirit whose only desire in the worl
d was to feel loved again.

  She ushered him into her arms and held him tightly, letting him know he was cared for and no longer alone. “Please focus on all the progress you’ve made. You’re an inspiration to me. Truly.”

  “But I—”

  Beth hushed him. “Please.”

  Aidan buried his face in her neck, his hands clasped low on her back. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Beth pulled her fingers through his hair, finding comfort in his strong embrace and hoping he felt the same in hers.

  “How about we talk about what’s bothering you?” She felt him tense. “Or we can just sit in silence. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

  Aidan let out a shaky breath. “Okay, let’s sit.”

  Beth took his hand and led him toward the vanity.

  “Wait.” He guided her in another direction. “I don’t want you to cut your feet. You’re wearing open-toed shoes.”

  Bypassing the shards of glass, Aidan picked up the chair from the floor with one hand and sat in front of the mirror, pulling her into his lap.

  “Beth, I’m sorry I trashed the dressing room and punched the set wall.” He placed a kiss to her temple. “This is not the man I want to be for you, but I feel like I’m drowning sometimes.”

  “Don’t worry about the damage.” Beth traced her fingertips along his stubbly jaw. “I want you to focus on yourself.”

  Aidan’s expression conveyed his appreciation. “Baby, you’re more important to me than anything else in my life, and I’ll always put you first. But I promise I’m gonna work on myself, too. I’m gonna make you proud of me.”

  “I’m already proud of you, Aidan.” With a contented sigh, Beth closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest.

  After several minutes of silence, Aidan opened up about his suspicions regarding Mr. Mertz, as well as all of his worries regarding their scene today, Chicago, the surprise vision he experienced at RCA Victor, and not being strong enough for her.

  Beth listened attentively, offering encouragement wherever she could, and he seemed to appreciate her dedication and non-judgmental approach to his problems. It troubled her that he withheld so much from her because he felt he had to take on extra responsibility to spare her from getting involved. She hoped now that it was all out in the open, he could handle the remainder of the shoot better, especially since she would support him every step of the way.