Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

Shine so bright that it burns their fucking eyes.

Reed

It's me.

The final boy.

I stand outside the broken window of the Belmont, on the shaggy grass, taking deep, ragged breaths, blood coursing down my face. I'm barely recognizable, my clothes torn and dirty, my character struggling to stand, but I drop the pool cue in my hand and then stretch my arms out, tipping my face back to the sky.

I laugh.

It's a real laugh, from deep in my chest.

There's a light drizzle, which Jamie hadn't planned for, but it peppers pinpricks of water over my cheeks and lips. It coats my arms, held straight out, like a wingspan.

And, fuck, I'm really laughing. A Lennox-created cut tugging against my lip, the rain droplets clinging to my lashes.

I survived the Belmont.

Not just my asshole jock character, but me. And Lenn.

All of us did.

My laughter is short-lived though, because Indy's character comes at me through the window.

That's the little twist at the end. I end up as the final boy—the over-confident jock who usually always dies—but not without having to kill his girlfriend who was driven mad, and now chasing after him through the Belmont yard with a cluster of broken bottles tied by wires.

She swings the bottles at me.

Well, she's pretty far from me when she does it. We cut to change camera angles, Jamie's meticulous about every take, every angle, the expressions on our faces, the continuity between takes. The progress of how muddy and wet we both get, both of us tucking under umbrellas between takes to preserve our dryness and makeup.

Although Jamie seems pretty delighted to film Indy kicking the shit out of me.

I glance over my shoulder, my smile rising when I find Lennox leaning against the outside wall, his hood up, his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

His eyes meet mine. Steady, direct. We don't look away.

I survived this with him .

There's so much that's changed in my life since I met him.

I'm not the same person who first walked into the Belmont, who walked down that first dark hallway with him.

I don't want to be that guy anymore.

He smiles at me. It's a quiet smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges, his hands slipping from his pockets as he pushes off the wall, self-assured and unshakable, so wildly creative that it's hard for me to contemplate what his brain must be like. And with just that one smile, I can feel my heart soaring, my smile lifting, weightlessness in my limbs as I stare back at him.

It can't end here.

Not on the edge of the Belmont grounds. Not later tonight. Not next week.

I need this man like I need to breathe.

I don't care how complicated it gets.

I don't care what's thrown in our way.

I will fight every fucking day for him.

I'll be his final boy.

We'll survive.

"Reed," Jamie says, and I cut my attention to him, having nearly forgotten what I'm supposed to be doing.

I clear my throat, reach for the pool cue, glance back and Lenn again, and then give him a wink before I turn and fight for my life in the rain.

Lennox

What gives life meaning?

That's the question we all struggle to answer, right?

What gives your life meaning?

I stand under Randy's awning, out of the drizzle, my hood damp and the taste of rain in my mouth.

We finished filming the final scenes and packed everything out of the building, then locked the gate for the last time. We carted our shit home, and Indy cleaned up quickly before we came here at two in the morning, all of us laughing and talking too loud, but Randy's is the place to do that.

Through the window, I watch everyone clustered around two tables pushed together. Umar is telling a story with big hand gestures. Verity is laughing across the table from Lucía. Jonas is here tonight, too, joining in. Indy has a basket of fries, and I watch as she nudges it toward Jamie. He takes one and chews slowly, intent on Umar. That's been happening more and more.

For three years, Jamie's been fine. Up and downs, but fine.

Indy tips her head against his shoulder, and my brother looks down at her. He stills, just looking at her, and she scoots her chair closer.

I smile. Last night, I'm pretty sure that Jamie was in her room, and he didn't come out until at least five in the morning. They're cute, and I'm happy for them.

I pull in a slow breath and push my hood off, watching as they all laugh at Umar's story, then Verity is saying something before reaching for her milkshake.

For years, they've been my crew. They've been my support network, my companions, my friends. My world.

I think about all they've meant to me. All that I've hopefully meant to them.

I dig my phone out of my pocket.

There's a voice message on it.

There's been a message for eight hours, but as usual, I didn't check it while filming. I didn't notice it until we were carting everything home. I listened to it, and then I tucked my phone back in my pocket to help unload, and I haven't thought of it since.

That's a lie, I guess.

I've thought about a lot of different things since then.

I'm thinking about them now as I stare inside.

Reed's not here. He went home to shower and change. He was a mess by the time filming completed—muddy and covered in fake blood. He was smiling with those laugh lines in his cheeks, but there was something more serious in his eyes.

We have things to say to each other.

I know it. He does too.

What are those things, Lennox?

"What are you doing out here?"

I turn from the window, and a shiver races over my shoulders, the hair on the nape of my neck lifting, even with the damp drizzle, like it always does for Reed. He's got a direct line into my body, my thoughts, my emotions, my everything.

He steps close to me, under the awning, the pink and blue lights reflecting on his face, his hat backward, a jacket zipped up.

"I'm waiting for you," I say.

He smiles, but then it fades. "Why didn't you wait inside? It's chilly out here."

"I'm not sure. I guess I needed to think."

"About what?"

"Life."

He nods, then edges closer. Our fingers tangle, the warmth of his body seeping into mine. He tips forward, his lips pressing against my temple before I push up to my toes. We kiss, the night hushed from the rain, the sidewalk empty. His teeth graze my bottom lip, a light bite before he pulls back.

I have things to say to him .

I clear my throat. "You lived."

His lips rise. "I did. Final boy, right here. At Randy's."

"I lived, too." I swallow thickly, pressing my toes into the bottom of my shoes, feeling the stretch of standing on the sidewalk, the surety in my body. "There was something in me that came to life while we filmed that movie. Something that sparked. And it was because of you."

His eyes glow, his fingers squeezing mine. "Lenn?—"

"Let me finish, please."

He nods. "Alright."

My throat closes. His eyes are reddened, and mine are welling.

I need to get through this.

"You're the person I'm supposed to be kissing," I say. "The one I want to live my life with. The person I love."

He drags in a shaky breath, his free hand rising to palm my neck as his tears spill over. " Lenn . I?—"

"I love you," I say, my voice catching, my heart echoing. "I love who you are. I love being with you. I love who I am. I love my life . And I want more of all of that. I want you. Every day, for as long as you want me back."

His eyes squeeze shut, then open again. They hold mine so strongly—that honesty we have with each other rings in them.

"I love you, too." His thumb strokes the side of my neck. "I can't imagine a world where you don't exist. Where we're not together. I want everything with you. I want a life. I don't know what that looks like, but I'll fight for it. I'm here with you." He scans my face. "You have something else to say."

How did he know? "I got a call. From the show. They want me."

His lips rise. "Of course they do. It doesn't surprise me at all."

"It surprised me."

"It shouldn't." He laughs. "I know what you're capable of."

"But I don't know if that changes things. If?—"

"It doesn't." He leans down to kiss me and then lingers. "I'll run away with you."

It's like every piece of art I've ever seen flashes before my eyes. Lifetimes of work. Generations upon generations. The beautiful and the ugly, the poignant and the macabre.

It's possibility and hope and all the things that I will someday create. It's a missing piece that finally slides into place.

"I love you, Reed," I say. "So much."

He breathes deeply. "I love you, too."

What gives life meaning?

All of this.