My phone starts vibrating and I’m so startled by it, it slips out of my hands and lands on the floor. I rush to pick it up, only tofind Sebastian’s name across the screen. I don’t want to talk to him. He’ll ask questions I don’t know how to answer.
My throat starts tightening and dread settles into an ache in my chest. How did I get here? Afraid to answer the phone because one of my best friends is calling. Being super sus while asking for drugs like I’m some sort of addict. This isn’t who I am. I’m better than this.
Are you sure about that?
I shove my phone under my pillow and run out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
The window in the living room is open and when I bend down to peer through it, I find Santino sitting on the fire escape, a mug of coffee cradled in his hands. Just seeing him sends a wave of calm through me and my feet automatically carry me to the window.
I climb out and when Santino sees me, he spreads his knees so I can sit between them on the step below him. He leans forward, resting his chin on my shoulder so his cheek is next to mine.
“Want a sip?” he asks, holding out his cup.
I take the steaming mug and pour half of it down my throat. The scalding hot coffee burns and sets fire to my stomach. I wince at the pain, but it’s a welcome relief compared to the chaos raging in my head.
Santino takes the mug back and silently plants a kiss on my temple. My eyes drift shut as I let myself be enveloped by his cinnamon scent mixed with the rich aroma of coffee. The tightness in my throat loosens just a bit.
“It’s nice out here,” Santino says. “I don’t have a balcony in San Francisco.”
I glance around the rusty old fire escape, then down to the trees lining the street below. The sun is just peeking over the buildings across the street. “I don’t come out very often,” I reply.
“Why not?”
I shrug. “It just never occurs to me.”
“You should. It’s nice.”
I take Santino’s arm and wrap it around my chest, then let out a breath as I lean back against him. He’s warm and solid. And if I ignore all the shit going on in my head, I can almost convince myself I’m happy.
I wish we could’ve stayed out on the fire escape all day. But eventually, we climbed back inside and got ready to leave for the shoot. By the time we get to the fancy apartment Noel had found for us to use, I’ve almost forgotten about the whole… pill thing.Almost.
Christian lets us into the apartment after we ring the doorbell. “Sebastian’s in one of the bedrooms,” he says, pointing to the left.
Before I can follow Santino down the hall, Christian grabs my elbow and slips something into my hand: a pill packet.
“Just one, about fifteen minutes before we start,” he murmurs quietly to me. “And Sebastian wants to talk to you.”
My stomach twists at both his instructions and his warning. It must show on my face because Christian’s expression softens with sympathy.
“Don’t sweat it. It happens to me every once in a while. It used to happen to everyone all the time back in the day,” he says, referring to decades ago when he first started in the porn industry. “And Sebastian’s just worried about you. We all are.”
He lets go of my arm and ambles off toward the corner where boxes of equipment and supplies are set up. I watch him for amoment, my stomach churning. It’s one thing for Sebastian to be worried. But what does Christian mean by “we all”?
Heaviness drags at my feet as I search for Santino and Sebastian. I find them in the primary bedroom, Sebastian running Santino through his preliminary day-of checklist.
Sebastian glances up from his clipboard as I enter and there’s an edge to his expression that makes me feel like a schoolboy called into the principal’s office.
“Alright, cool,” he says to Santino. He picks up a pair of folded boxer briefs and nods toward the en suite. “You can change into these. There are bathrobes hanging up in there.”
Santino takes the underwear and casts me a wary look. He must pick up on the tension between me and Sebastian. He’s too observant not to. I flash him a quick smile I hope is reassuring rather than alarming. His brows furrow a bit, but after a moment’s hesitation, he goes into the bathroom.
“Hayden,” Sebastian says the second the bathroom door snicks shut.
“Christian already gave them to me,” I interrupt, holding up the packet of diamond-shaped pills. My heart’s in my throat and the darkness closes in around me.
He steps closer and lowers his volume. “I don’t care about the pills. I want to know what’s going on.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice is artificially high and borderline hysterical.
