Chapter 12
Olivia
Past
No.
He's pushing me away.
I couldn't be sure, but I refused to believe anything else. I stopped in my snowy tracks, wiped the tears that were freezing to my face and turned back around.
Bastien's back was to me. His normally immaculate clothes were dirty and disheveled and his hair was an unwashed mess.
He looked like hell that was slowly freezing to death.
I had no idea how he survived out here as long as he did, but I knew he wouldn't last much longer if I didn't get him back home.
“Your dad is dead. The world doesn't owe you a damn thing, Bastien.” Wide eyed, he turned back around to me. I took a deep breath and swallowed my courage. “What would he say to you if he saw you like this?”
I didn't think it was possible but, for a minute there, Bastien was at a loss for words.
“Don't act like you knew him. You never even met him.” Bastien spat back as venomously as he could.
“You're right. I didn't know your father. But what I do know from talking to Ms. Lane is that he at least died fighting for something he believed in. And you're out here moping around and running from your problems like a coward!”
Anger flashed across his face as he stomped toward me, stopping just a few inches away. “You don't know shit, you rich, spoiled bitch!” He poked a finger into my puffy winter coat.
His words stung like a punch, but I refused to let on.
I could see the pain behind his eyes. Bastien's advice to me about acting carried over into this too, I thought about this as another scene in a hard play. I knew sweet words and time wouldn't penetrate the armor he wrapped himself in.
He needed straight talk and tough love.
I had to act strong for him, because he needed me to.
“I know that a real man is dead. I know that someone who’s cared for you the whole time you’ve been in our school is alone, worried sick, and has just lost her friend.” I didn’t know if there was anything more going on between them, but it was easy to tell that Ms. Lane and Bastien’s dad were friends. “And you're out here feeling sorry for yourself? Self destruction and giving up is easy, Bastien. Living with pain and grief is the hard part. Don't make it worse for the people left behind that still care about you.”
Maybe it was because he saw the guilt and grief I still carried for my mother in my eyes, but Bastien lowered his head. Howling wind and distant cars filled the quiet air between us. The shaggy mess of his hair covered most of his face.
But not the crystalline tears that rolled down his cheek.
After a long moment, I held out my hand. And much to my surprise, Bastien took it.
Present.
“I, uh, yes of course. Well, we all hope that she gets better soon.” Jim, the talk show host, groped to fill the dead air caused by my silence. After flat out refusing to discuss my stepmother, or her current status, the host transitioned into some canned questions.
I nodded with a sweet smile.
We briefly went into the controversy surrounding my relationship with Samantha and rumors surrounding the Velvet Intentions casting. Not that I let it on, but the latter was especially disheartening because I was beginning to have the sneaking suspicion that they had passed on offering me the chance to audition. Usually these things moved extremely fast.
I wondered if the Instagram pictures of me with Persephone at her party hadn’t trended as well as my agent hoped. If so where did that leave me now?
After some witty repartee with the host, and a few inoffensive jokes, we moved on to the main reason I was here; to advertise my latest film. I'd known most of the questions ahead of time, and my replies had been written and approved by the network weeks ago.
I had done this publicity circuit dozens of times before. The scalding lights, the live studio audience and the countless viewers watching me at home, none of it bothered me anymore. But I was a little distracted.
All I could think about was Trisha recovering in the hospital.
I tried everything to get out of my contract to appear, but they threatened me with a lawsuit. I would've never cared about the consequences before when I had all my accounts. My livelihood was hanging by such a thread right now that those threats scared me.
Trisha and I had become so close over the years that I knew she’d want me here instead of by her bed worrying.
I smiled politely at the hosts frivolous questions, but behind the celebrity mask I wore, I was a jumbled up mess of emotions.
Go be your father’s daughter.
Bastien had cut me to the core. It didn’t help that I was in front of millions of people.
“Now, you play the character Trim in The Burning Game franchise,” Jim told me, while facing the audience. He idly shuffled through his note cards on the desk that separated us and turned back to me. “The final film in that hugely popular trilogy is due out next month.
“For those who’ve been living under a rock these past few years, Trim’s rebellion is scattered. The various districts of Ursa have fallen into chaos. Almost all of Trim's friends have been captured or killed off. The people she’s leading are about to find out she’s not who she says she is and her closest ally has abandoned her.
“One of the most asked questions, at this point, is what keeps your character going?” Jim finished, waiting patiently for my response.
“Well, Jim—” I started.
All the canned responses came to mind, but I couldn't get them out of my mouth. This was why I left Bastien earlier, to answer questions about a movie series that I desperately wanted to put behind me?
I felt deflated and shallow.
I couldn't do this, at least not the way they wanted. I let go of all the things I was supposed to say, and said what was really in my heart instead.
“I guess what I’m supposed to say is, that it’s Trim’s limitless resolve to do what’s right that carries her through. But I don’t think that’s it at all.”
Jim gave me a curious look, not knowing where I was headed with this.
“Trim is strong and knows what she’s doing is right, but beneath that, she’s just a person like the rest of us. She’s not perfect. No one is. Trim makes mistakes, is occasionally blinded by her goals, and acts without thinking sometimes. Her stubbornness even drove her best friend, Ferrin, away. Honestly? I think she’s terrified of making the wrong move.”
“Huh, alright.” Jim tapped his cards on the desk. “So if it isn’t her indomitable will… Then why does she keep fighting?”
“Because, as hard as it is, the life she’s fighting for, the one she remembers from her childhood, is still better than what she’s had to endure these last few years.” I thought on it for a second before finishing my thought. “To answer your question, I think it’s love that keeps her going.”
The waving, frantic arms of my production handler off stage drew my gaze. I disregarded her and continued. “To me it’s a much smaller, more personal story than all the big action set pieces.”
I hope you're watching Bastien.
“Love?” The host's grin melted a bit, as he was forced to improvise. “Uh, how do you mean?”
“I think, behind the rebellion and hardship everyone’s had to go through, Trim is just trying to do right by Ferris. He saved her life when they were kids. She desperately wants to return that favor now.” I paused. That didn’t feel quite right.
“But more than that, she loves him.” I looked at the cameras. “She loves him more than anyone else. It's a hard world they live in, and in the end, they're all each other has. If she doesn't repair their relationship before it's too late, she may lose him forever.” I took a breath, swallowed and continued. “I don’t think Trim could recover from that kind of loss.”
“Powerful stuff.” Jim smiled broadly.
“I think it resonates really well, y'know?” Images of Bastien holding my hand when I found him in South Boston after he ran away flooded my heart. “It can be your best friend, a sibling, or the person you love most in life. I love that my character wants to change the whole world just so that they can be together again. Some people are just worth fighting for.”
A prompt in the earpiece I wore gave me time stamp for the coming commercial break.
“Just, wow. Olivia Ward, everyone!” Jim began wrapping up. “Daughter of the legendary actor Delvin Ward.”
Delvin Ward… His name soured my mood even further. Just once I wanted to be referred to by only my name.
“Hone your archery skills everyone, because the final movie in The Burning Game series...” The host's words faded into the cheers from the crowd as we ended my segment. He thanked me afterwards and I walked off stage back to the green room.
My handler gave me hell about going off script, but I didn't care. I fulfilled my contract.
Most of what I said about Trim’s character wasn’t true. She was about as perfect and two-dimensional as most young adult movie heroes were.
I wanted to do real dramatic roles, characters that were flawed and interesting. I didn't want to just be Delvin’s daughter. I was tired of playing everything so safe. I wanted...
I wanted Bastien.
I wanted to scream his name during that interview, tell the whole world the way I really felt about him. I wanted to feel his arms around me and not have to think about who might be watching, or what it might do to my career.
Walking into the green room, I nearly tripped over one of the craft service men. He was getting up from the floor. There were pieces of fruit, bits of salmon and pastries all over the room. It looked like a tornado touched down.
What happened in here?
“Sorry, Ma'am, there was a little—” The older man began, but was cut off by the younger blond man.
“Oh shit, you're Olivia Ward!” His eyes nervously twitched, glancing at the door like hunted prey that wandered out into an open field. Satisfied that whatever he was looking for wasn't going to come rip his face off, he smiled and let his gaze land heavily on my chest. “Can you sign something for me?”
I pinched my top button closed, and turned toward the older man. I'd have buttoned it shut, but, like most of the stuff I wore for television, it wasn't designed to be functional.
“Shut up, Blake.” The older man stuck a finger menacingly in Blake’s face. He knew I could probably get both of them fired just for bothering me, not that I would of course, but I had seen other celebrities do it. “Again, I apologize, Ma'am.”
“What happened in here?” Honestly, from the way that blond man was looking at me, I didn't care all that much if he got some preemptive karma. It was more to make small talk as I walked over for the light jacket that I'd left in the room before doing the interview.
“It was, um, your bodyguard, Ma’am. There was a slight misunderstanding, and...”
“Bastien?” I saw the blond cringe at the mention of his name and I could pretty much put together what happened here. I remembered how quickly and easily Bastien had put that greasy reporter down when he'd first come back. “He was here?”
Bastien had come after me?
Trisha must have made him. There would be no other way that he'd leave her side in her condition. That meant that Trisha was actually better than she looked, that was great news!
The older man didn't know where he might have gone, but said that Bastien hadn't left all that long ago. I stepped out of the room far enough to be out of ogling sight and thought about it a second. This building was huge.
If Bastien left, where would—
Outside!
Bastien hated all this entertainment stuff. He'd probably jump at the first excuse to leave. I took off my heels and raced after him. I needed to catch him before he was gone. I wanted to apologize for leaving the hospital the way I did.
My head spun thinking about Bastien.
What did he want to tell me?
Or had he come back because he was my bodyguard?
Either way, the need to see him felt urgent for some reason.
I was reminded just how sanitized and hollow this industry could make me feel. Being with Bastien, even when we hated each other, was real.
During the good times and bad, he always made me feel really alive.
I pushed open the exterior studio door and saw Bastien right away. He was leaning on his black Mustang, ending a phone call, and looking cool as ever. We saw each other and it became evident that both of us had something on our minds.
Automatically, I glanced around for the paparazzi. Fortunately I only saw disinterested, rushing New Yorkers. I was always scanning for people that might rush up to me; it was a necessary force of habit in my line of work.
That's why it struck me as odd that the guy in the green hoodie was still here. I'd seen him as I walked into the studio hours earlier. It was weird that he hadn't really moved since then.
Bastien must have seen the confusion in my face because he came rushing up to me. I quickly realized that it wasn't me he was looking at. His deep, brown eyes flared with fear, before hardening with determination and anger.
The seriousness in his face made my stomach leap into my throat. Bastien wasn't scared for himself.
Someone screamed, “Gun!” There was a crazy loud bang, like someone popped a paper bag right next to my ear.
Everything became dreamlike after that.
I remember falling. There was another loud crash, and more screaming.
“Bastien,” His name was on my lips when darkness took me.