Chapter Fourteen

Amos

Chase's eyes went wide when he saw me. Then he threw himself back down on his bed and pulled his blankets over his head, making a pitiful sound. He mumbled through his covers, "Why didn't you tell me he was here?"

"I've been trying to tell you," Jimmy said. "He came to find me, said he needed me to let him into the house. The door was locked and you wouldn't answer your phone."

He huffed.

Jimmy stood up and gave me an apologetic shrug. "I'll leave you two to talk."

"I don't want to talk," Chase mumbled, still hiding in his blankets.

"Well, you're going to," I said. "Are you done being dramatic yet?"

"No." Then he shot up, pushed the blankets away, and glared at me. "You said I tried to drown myself and that I'm not a good actor."

Christ. He was such a child .

I sighed and sat down on his bed. "I'm sorry I said that. I was mad."

"You were mad? What reason do you possibly have to be mad at me? I'm the victim here."

I tried not to get mad again, but gawd, he didn't make it easy.

I used my best speaking-to-a-child voice. "Why are you the victim?"

"Because," he said, then he threw himself back down and pulled the blankets back up over his face. "Because I am. Because you said I wasn't a good actor."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

It one hundred percent was not.

"And because of that fucked-up footage from last night," he added. "And you saw it and you heard what he said, and then you couldn't even look at me."

"Chase," I whispered.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice catching.

I pulled the bed covers away from his face so I could see his eyes. His sad and teary eyes. "Don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. It was Jimmy who said it."

He sighed, his whole face a mask of sadness. "This really sucks."

I wasn't sure what to say. If I'd make it worse or better, but it needed to be said.

"Separating feelings," I began. "It's confusing. Method acting is hard. Being our characters every minute of the day was a huge ask."

He was quiet for a long moment. "Feeling anything is terrible," he said. "I'm never feeling anything again. "

"Is that right?"

"Yep."

I dug a finger into his ribs.

"Ow."

"You felt that."

"I hate you."

"Hate is also a feeling."

"Then I shall feel nothing but hate ever again."

"Okay, Anakin."

He tried not to smile. "I totally get the draw of the Dark Side now."

I sighed and fished his hand out of the bedding so I could hold it. "Did you really quit or were you just being dramatic?"

He pouted. "And you said I couldn't act."

"It was pretty convincing."

"I don't know if I can do it," he admitted quietly. "Maybe I'm not good enough of an actor."

"You are a good actor," I said. I had to lean down and catch his eye so he'd look at me. "You were made for Hollywood. Or Broadway."

He rolled his eyes, but he totally loved the compliment. I could tell by the twitch of his lips.

"The Chase Soria I know, who can belt out ‘Empty Chairs at Empty Tables' and then take his shirt off and be hot as all hell, is the next Hugh Jackman for sure."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Hot as hell, huh?"

"You know you are."

He frowned at me. "Why do your compliments always sound a little bitey? Like how can it be nice to hear but also sounds like it should hurt? "

"It's a skill. I like to keep you on your toes. But I think it's similar to how I can like you, but never has anyone ever annoyed me like you do. I think it's like that."

His lips twitched again. "You like me, huh?"

"I do. Against every fiber of common sense, yes. And as much as I try to talk myself out of it, and as much as I even hate myself for it, I do."

"See, like that. That should be a compliment but it kinda stings at the same time."

I chuckled and played with his fingers for a bit.

"There's a but coming, isn't there," he whispered. "You like me, but..."

I swallowed hard. "I do like you. But I don't know what it means outside of filming. I mean, you don't date. You don't want a relationship. You don't like feeling things."

"Because you don't feel the same."

My eyes shot to his. "Feel the same as what, Chase?"

My heart was thumping hard now, my belly full of butterflies.

"You haven't actually said how you feel," I whispered. "You just said it was terrible?—"

"Because it is."

I snorted. "So is that your answer?"

"My answer to what?"

Sweet mother of all that is holy.

"To how you feel, Chase?"

He frowned at me. "Do I have to say it? Out loud?"

"That's generally how communication works."

"I don't know," he cried. "I've never done this before."

I gave him a sad smile, still playing with his hand. "Jimmy said you'd never liked anyone before. He said he'd never seen you play the boyfriend role before, and even though you were acting, you kinda weren't."

"Jimmy has to a lot to answer for," he said. "And he needs to start advertising for a new best friend."

"He brought me in here and let me in."

Chase scowled at me. "Don't take his side."

I sighed, not sure what exactly we'd accomplished, but at least he was talking to me.

"Don't quit the show," I said gently. "If you fail, you'll need to retake the class and it'll push your graduation back. Just see it through. We only have a few days left of filming. How about we just take a backseat for now? I think Max and Holly are filming their big scene today. We should probably be there right now, but..."

Here we were in his bedroom trying to have an adult conversation while he was still wrapped in his bedcovers.

"I'll finish filming," he said quietly. "But I don't think we should do anything more than that. As good as the BJs were, and the sex was amazing... I just don't think I can take that. I think that's where I got mixed up. You can compartmentalize it so much better than me, and I know it's because I've never let myself be all cuddly with anyone before and I now realize how amazing that actually is." He frowned. "No one ever told me that being a boyfriend is cuddling while watching Rick and Morty and then having awesome sex. I mean, what's not to like about that?"

I snorted. "It was kinda great."

"Was it? For you too?"

"Well, it wasn't... what did you call it? Terrible."

He pouted and sighed. "No, that part wasn't terrible. The after part was. The feelings part. When you said you didn't feel the same."

"I never said I didn't." Fuck, now even I was confused. "No, you said it was terrible. I said it wasn't."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "When?"

"Just now."

"But not before."

"You didn't either."

I groaned and ran my hand through my hair. "I'm so glad there are no cameras here right now."

"Same."

"Look," I said, trying to clear this whole mess up. "I said I like you. I know Jimmy dropped the L-word and it caused you to freak out?—"

"I didn't freak out. You freaked out."

"What did I do that could be constituted as a freak out? Run off and swim fifty laps and quit the drama production?"

He opened his mouth, then promptly shut it, then threw himself back down and pulled the covers over his head. "Feel free to leave at any time," he said, mumbling from somewhere in the middle of his blankets.

"I'm not leaving. Christ. You're such a child," I growled, frustrated and annoyed. "How is it possible for you to annoy me so fucking much and for me to still be here? How is that possible? I can't decide if it's because I like you so much or if it's because I hate myself more."

He threw the covers back. "You do like me?"

I groaned and stood up. "Be right back. Going to walk into traffic."

He reached up and grabbed my hand. " No, don't leave. Stay here. I'm sorry. I'm a mess of... feelings. And it's awful."

I groaned again.

"Well, it's not all awful," he amended. "There are some good parts."

I stared at him and he pouted.

"I like you too," he mumbled. "And it's not the L-word like Jimmy said, because he's full of shit, and that's ridiculous. I absolutely do not L-word you. And I don't want to spend every night with you, and I do not want to touch you all the time. And I absolutely, absolutely did not envisage us moving to West Hollywood together and sharing a tiny condo and going to auditions and chasing the big Hollywood dream. That was just a post-coital brain fugue of stupid wishful thinking, and in no way an accurate representation of my feelings."

Uh . . . what?

I snorted out a laugh. "What?"

"Nothing. I said I didn't do that. Weren't you listening to anything I said?"

I sat back down, tired from the circles of this conversation. I took his face in my hands, and his beautiful blue eyes met mine. "You are insufferable. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"You do. A lot," he said, pouting because I was kind of squishing his cheeks.

"But you're really fucking cute. And you drive me so crazy I could scream."

"In a good way?"

"No."

He made a squishy sad face. "Oh. "

"So let's clear the air, start again, do this filming, stupid-ass reality-method-acting thing, and then we can decide what we want to do."

He sighed. "Okay."

"But you can't stay in here and wallow."

"I'm not wallowing." He rolled his eyes at himself. "Well, maybe just a little bit. But I'm allowed. I'm not used to feeling the feelings."

"Look. We've established that we like each other. That's enough feelings for one day. Let's just get through this stupid production. No sleeping at my place until it's over and you know how you feel for real."

"Whose stupid rule is that?"

"It was yours."

"Well, I take it back."

I sighed. "Chase. For the love of fucking god. Stop being a child." I kissed his pouty lips, then let his face go.

"See? There it is again. Sweet, with a side of ouch."

"Just keeping it real."

"Could you be gentle with me? I'm fragile."

I sighed. "You know that game Kiss, Kill, or Fuck? Well, you're all three for me, and I don't even know how that's possible."

He finally smiled. A proper Chase Soria smile. "You wanna kiss and fuck me?"

"And kill."

"Those odds are still pretty good."

I stood up. "You know what? I have to get to class while I still have some sanity left. If you want to fail, go right ahead. But we are expected in the rehearsal hall by one o'clock. I will be there because I cannot afford to fail. If you want to stay here and wallow, then be my guest. But we can't get a tiny condo in West Hollywood and go to auditions together if you're still in college because you failed."

He unfolded himself from his covers, tried to stand up, almost fell over, and somehow managed to right himself before he hit the floor. "I said I never thought that. You need to listen more."

"I don't even know what I'm doing here," I mumbled, turning for the door.

He grabbed my hand, his eyes finally serious. "Thank you. For coming to clear the air and to calm me down. I'm glad we talked."

This sincerity, the adorable, too-sweet, stupidly hot side of him. The side of him that wasn't a freaking child, that wasn't the confident guy he portrayed himself to be. The side of him that showed his vulnerability, his need to be liked.

The side of him you want to hold onto forever.

It's just a shame it's attached to the incredibly frustrating side of him.

"I'm glad we talked too. And in two days, when all the filming is done and we're back to just being us—just Chase and Amos, and not Dominic or Elijah—we'll see how we feel."

He nodded. "Okay. Sounds good." Then he licked his lips and frowned. "You know what I said about the no-sex thing? Well, that didn't include kissing." He pointed to his lips. His full, inviting, sexy as fuck lips. "Maybe a kiss will make me feel better."

Why did I put up with his shit?

Why did I fall for the cute, playful bullshit, every single time ?

Because I want to kiss him every chance I get.

Because, despite how hard I tried not to, I'd fallen for him too.

I put my finger to his chin and tilted his face upward, making him look me in the eye. And I slowly pressed my lips to his. Soft and warm, never moving to deepen the kiss, just sweet and chaste.

It made my blood run warm and my heart skip a beat.

"Feel better?" I asked.

He nodded. "Much."

I rested my forehead against his and closed my eyes. "Same. I'm glad we talked." Then I sighed and pulled back. "I'm not glad I followed you here, found your house locked, then had to track down your best friend to come let me in. I could have done without that. I also missed a class today. I could have done without that too. I also had to explain a few things to Deirdre. Could have done without that. But yes, I'm glad we talked."

He narrowed his brows. "What did you have to explain to her?"

"That things got . . . complicated between us."

"Ugh." Then he shrugged. "Did you tell her the sex was hot as fuck?"

"No. I didn't tell her that."

"You should have. Then maybe she'd understand."

"I think she got the gist of what I meant."

"What's that?"

I shrugged. "That the physical closeness, the staring into each other's eyes exercises and the kissing exercises we did might have made us closer than she'd intended. And that it's really no wonder that Max and Holly were struggling with it." I shrugged again. "And I told her method acting sucks ass."

He nodded. "You know, eating ass is one thing I've never done."

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Christ."

He laughed. "Wanna try it?"

I grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his room. "Not today."

"Tomorrow?"

"Probably not."

We passed Jimmy in the living room. I waved over my shoulder. "Thanks!"

Chase, still being dragged out by his hand, yelled, "You're to blame for all of this."

Jimmy laughed. "You're welcome!"

And we walked outside to find none other than Daniel waiting on the sidewalk. "Hey guys," he said, holding his camera up. "Ready to roll."

I shook my head at him. "Not now, Daniel. No filming. Just give us a break for half an hour, please."

I kept walking, kept dragging Chase, until he pulled his hand free, only to put his arm around my waist. "Slow down."

"It's almost one. Deirdre already thinks you quit. She's probably spent the last hour or so in emergency meetings making contingency plans."

"It'll be good practice for her," he said. "And anyway, we're not doing the godawful breakup thing she wanted us to do on camera, so what does she even need us for today anyway? "

"No, we almost did the godawful breakup thing for real."

"Lucky one of us was the grown up and tracked the other one down."

I stopped walking and stared at him. I was about to rip into him but he was doing that pouty thing. I sighed and shook my head. "Remind me again why I bothered?"

"Because you caught feelings for me. You already told me you did so you can't take it back. I have a strict no-return policy."

"Christ, you're insufferable."

He laughed and took my hand, now pulling me toward the rehearsal hall. "Come on, or we'll be late. And I'm hungry. Did I nap through lunch?"

Fuck my life.

We walked into the rehearsal hall where everyone—cast, camera crews, and production—was gathered near the stage. They stopped and turned to face us, clearly seeing us holding hands.

"Oh, thank god," Jess said. "Please tell me we're still good to go."

"We were about to kill off Dominic's character and give Elijah the role of the grieving lover left behind," Deirdre said with the hint of a smile.

"Awesome," Chase said. " Days of our Lives meets kill your queers. Love that for me. "

Didi greeted me with a gentle hand on my arm, looking between us. "Everything okay?"

"It is now," I replied. "Just had to go mow down a melodramatic bisexual and talk some sense into him."

"Melodramatic bisexual," Chase repeated flatly with a slow nod. "Better than generic Hollywood, I guess."

"Are we good to continue filming?" Deirdre asked gently.

I gave a nod, and Chase did too, but then Deirdre nodded to the corner of the hall. "Chase? A word?"

She took him for a quiet, private conversation, no doubt asking him if he was happy to keep filming, if he felt up to it, and if he was okay, basically.

"You all good?" Tucker asked me.

"Yeah. We just need to get this filming done."

"Tell me about it," Max mumbled. I don't know if he meant for Holly to hear, but she did.

I hated this for them too.

It didn't help that most of the viewer comments about Max and Holly's relationship weren't good. Some people were rooting for them. Some were saying they should split; they had no chemistry.

It wasn't their acting skills.

Well, maybe a little. But the outside pressure was buckling them.

"You know," I said, "I think method acting would be okay if it was a character not like ourselves. I know why they made our characters like our real selves for this, so we could continue with our daily lives at college. But man, it's murky waters. "

"So you'd rather play a serial killer and get all dark and weird in real life to become a character?" Phoebe asked.

"I wouldn't kill someone, if that's what you mean. But I think some characters might need that kind of dedication. Like The Godfather . I can see why Brando chose method acting. It's still talked about over fifty years later."

"I'd rather leave my character at the door," Max said.

"Same," Didi agreed. "It's easier for me to slip in and out of character. As soon as the camera rolls, it's like bam! Character is switched on."

I nodded. "Agreed. I'm all for research and spending a few weeks doing what that character does, like Wall Street or small-town sheriff or whatever. But becoming that character?" I shook my head. "Living and breathing as that character twenty-four seven? Not for me."

Holly gave me a twisted smile as she nodded toward Chase. "But you and him became your characters, right?"

I looked over at Chase, just as he looked my way. He smiled, and it made me smile, and of course my cheeks burned. "We... we don't know yet," I said, embarrassed and kinda mad at myself for admitting anything. "See, his character Dominic is very levelheaded and funny, whereas Chase is more of a wallowing, melodramatic kinda guy who does nothing but annoy and frustrate the hell outta me, so we're still undecided."

"I heard that!" Chase yelled.

I rolled my eyes. "Good. Saves me from saying it again later."

They all laughed, and he and Deirdre walked back over to us. "Ready to watch the recap?" she asked. "Then we'll run through this afternoon's big scene. "

There were some groans, mostly for Max and Holly's scene, because everyone knew it wasn't an easy one for them.

"Look, guys," Deirdre said. "Tomorrow's the last day. I know it's been rough, but I think we can all say we've learned about the process and about ourselves as actors and production crew. And I'm telling you, as hard as this has been, it's nothing compared to what you'll go through in the real thing. If you want to work in LA or Hollywood, or on Broadway, this project is a walk in the park. Okay?"

We all nodded and mumbled ascent.

Chase sat beside me, leaning his head on my shoulder, and his hand slipped into mine.

So much for no contact or intimacy.

"You know," I murmured so only he could hear. "It's kinda confusing. You say you don't want physical contact, but then you do this." I bumped my shoulder so he'd know what I was talking about.

He never lifted his head. "It's not confusing to me."

I sighed. "Of course it's not."

"I meant no sex," he whispered. "Cuddling doesn't count. Cuddles have been scientifically proven to reduce cortisol levels and increase endorphins."

"Shh," Phoebe hissed at us. "Do you two ever shut up?"

I pointed my thumb at Chase, blaming him, at the same time he pointed to me.

She rolled her eyes and went back to watching.

It was a scene with her and Jess, goofing off in one of their rooms, and then Didi and Tucker were having lunch together, talking about a concert they'd just bought tickets to. Their feet were interlocked under the table and it was kinda cute.

Then Max and Holly appeared. They were walking to class together, Holly's big doe eyes looking at Max like he hung the moon, and Max... Max's smile didn't quite sit right.

It was awkward.

Awkward for them to act out, awkward for us to watch.

And then there was me and Chase. Filmed today. Me sitting in the bleachers by the pool and Chase being surprised to see me. I didn't even know Daniel was filming us. He was quite far away, filming near the locker-room door by the looks of it, and thankfully we couldn't really hear our conversation.

But then Chase whipped off his swimming trunks and I held up the towel just in time, before the whole world saw his junk. Everybody cracked up laughing. "Almost an Only Fans," Chase said, totally proud.

I groaned. "God, now you all see what I have to put up with?"

Then, on-screen, the swim coach yelled at us for language and Daniel's filming cut away as me and Chase made our way out. It looked absolutely candid because it was. I had no idea we were being filmed.

Viewers were gonna love it.

Little would they know that was filmed just before Chase quit, before he had a meltdown and cocooned himself in his bed...

I gave Chase's hand a squeeze.

They wouldn't know the personal cost. Like all viewers of any form of entertainment. It's a different story when the cameras stop rolling.

And I got it. It was an actor's job to present a persona on-screen. Personal lives were purely incidental. Sometimes personal lives were fodder for ratings and social media clicks.

It was a very good reminder to swear that if I ever did crack the big time in Hollywood, be it TV or movies, I'd keep my private life exactly that.

It got me thinking about what Chase had said about us moving to West Hollywood together, chasing auditions and dreams.

It sounded perfect.

If not impractical and way too premature.

But perfect.

Chase snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Amos."

I startled. "Sorry. I was . . . thinking."

Chase's face lit up. "Of me?"

"No," I lied.

It's not like I could admit to wondering what our place might look like, apart from tiny and dingy, or why I imagined a Rick and Morty poster on the living room wall...

I hadn't realized everyone was off doing their thing, getting ready for this afternoon's big scene. Holly came over, looking uncertain but hopeful.

"Hey," I said. "Ready for this today?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I have an idea. It's not scripted, not that much of what we've done is." She rolled her eyes. "But I need your help."

Chase put his arm around my waist. "We'll do it."