“Social media will be the least of your worries when he is walking with you on his arm into some premiere or into the grocery store. What if people start chanting ‘Gray! Gray!’ It’s not going to matter that Cas chose you to some people. They have already shipped him with five other people, and are convinced that’s what’s best for him. That includes women, and people will accuse you of keeping him from being a father.”
“That’s. . .messed up.”
“That’s fame.” Nix’s voice isn’t unkind. It’s just matter-of-fact. “The public may love you, or they may not. You won’t know until it’s out there. And if you think for the moment the fact that Cas chose you will make a difference, you are kidding yourself.”
“I know Cas. I know how I feel about him. No paparazzi will scare me away from that. We already get it, a little bit, being the Mann family of Colorado. It’s not like this, though.” I gesture to the phone with the article still displayed.
“No.” Nix’s voice is softer this time. “It’s not.”
I can hear movement in the back of the trailer, where the small bedroom is, and the doctor comes out from another check in. She tells me all is fine and gives us a few instructions, but really, all Cas needs is fluids and rest.
“Go to him,” Nix prods. “He will want you there.”
So, I do, crawling onto the bed and pressing my body next to his. He scoots back into me, mumbling something.
“Want some water, love?” I ask, and he nods, doing everything he can to burrow closer.
I offer him sips and some ice chips. His skin still looks pale, small tremors run just under his skin.
Wrapping an arm around him, he gives a contented sigh as I smooth his hair with my other hand.
“Wanna go home, Bee.” Cas’s voice is rough and thick, words choppy like the wake of a speedboat.
My heart catches a bit. He just got here and—
“Drive’s only an hour,” he mumbles, trying to make his point.
This time my heart convulses. Home didn’t mean back to Cali. It meant home with me.
“One more nap,” I promise him. “Then you will be fine to go.”
A little puff of exasperated breath is all I get in return.
So faint it’s a whisper, I sing to him. Singing quietly was a trick I learned when I was a kid to soothe myself in new places. Now, the words create a bubble in his room where even the thin walls help create a barrier keeping us in, with Caleb and Nix standing guard outside.
Cas gives a contented little noise, before settling and his body slowly stills, being pulled again into sleep.
Chapter 19 – Caswell
All I Want Is You – U2
Ipaceinthepool house, running my hands through my hair.
Baylor is at work, thank god, while I try to triage this mess with Vernon, and the label. We have been on the phone for hours it seems, with the only answer is to put out an article in a reputable magazine about what happened on set. Everyone is also leaning on me for more public appearances, and they would prefer those to be in LA. I may need to do an in-person interview, maybe even something live.
Anything that says I’m not a drug-addicted bad bet. A bad influence.
Young people are a major demographic of mine. I have never worried about that because I don’t party like most do. I have done far fewer drugs during my time as a celebrity than most of my fans will before they get out of high school.
I would prefer to be in Baylor’s bed. But, he’s not here, and Caleb is. And Caleb is moved well beyond my current media crisis.
He’s telling me things I don’t want to hear.
“Did Nix mark this day astell Cas shit he doesn’t want to hearday? So we could just do it all at once?”
Caleb is unfazed by my surly attitude. “Think about it, Caswell.”
I eye him, the full naming not lost on me. No one calls me Caswell to my face. Baylor would use my name in bed, but that was years ago, of course.
