ELEVEN MILES

"Cut!" Octavia shouts, dropping her fan into her lap and pressing her fingers to her temples.

Miles jumps, immediately dropping Kieran"s hands and stepping back. They"re both damp from the spray of the waterfall they"re shooting in front of, and while it"s a gorgeous spot, Miles really wishes they could be a little further away. The heat is miserable, and the spray from the waterfall isn"t anywhere near enough to temper the sun. Besides, who actually kisses in front of a waterfall?

Not them, apparently, as each take is getting progressively more and more awkward.

Miles swallows anxiously as Octavia tosses everything down into her seat and storms over to them. He glances at Kieran, hoping for some reassurance, but he looks about as grim as Miles feels. Octavia stops in front of them, hands on her hips, glaring at them like she just caught them kicking puppies or something.

"What the hell is going on here?" she hisses, obviously frustrated.

Miles is just grateful she keeps her voice down. It"s pretty obvious they"re getting chewed out, but he"s glad that everyone can"t hear every single word, at least. And he"s never done well with people yelling at him.

"Is it so impossible to make it believable that you like each other?" she asks, tossing her hands in the air. "You two get along just fine off-camera."

Neither of them answers her, and Miles just stares down at the sand on the toe of his shoe, ashamed.

"Miles, kid, you"re cute, ok? But that"s not going to carry you," she sighs, and Miles looks up to see her eyes tired and her face stony. "I have no clue what kind of connections you have to have gotten this role, and frankly, I don"t care. It was written specifically for you, and you damn well better deliver. Got it?"

"Yes, ma"am," Miles whispers, nodding meekly.

He"s torn between frustration and guilt, both making it hard for him to talk. This stupid movie isn"t why he"s even here, he doesn"t even want to act, much less in a movie that millions of people are going to see. He"s here for Blackwood, but he can"t exactly just tell her that and storm off like he half wishes he could. This is still the livelihood of everyone else here, even Kieran. Regardless of how hard it is, he has to do the best job he can here.

"And Callahan, for fuck"s sake," she continues, exasperated. "I"ve never seen you this sloppy in your whole damn life. What are you, a high schooler?"

Kieran doesn"t respond, and Miles doesn"t look at him. He doesn"t want to see how annoyed Kieran is, not when he knows it"s all his fault.

"Maybe it"s time for some method acting, if this is how you"re going to perform," she huffs. "Go walk around the island, hold hands, make out under the damn waterfall until it feels real, for all I care. Just make it believable."

Miles" gut clenches at the thought. It"s hard enough to not make a fool of himself when they"re on camera. How is he supposed to stop himself from just falling for Kieran all the way if he has to go wander hand in hand around a gorgeous tropical island with him? Octavia, however, seems to think she"s had the best idea in the world.

Either that, or she"s dead set on torturing them. At this point, Miles wouldn"t put it past her.

"I need the assistants for these two up here," she calls, whirling back to face the crew. There"s a moment of silence, and she impatiently adds, "Now!"

Dakota and Ethan scurry up to the three of them, both looking nervous. Miles is kind of surprised to actually see Ethan there. He hasn"t been around any time Miles has actually needed anything all day, probably napping in the shade to avoid his responsibilities.

"You two," Octavia says, pinning Ethan and Dakota in place with a look, "set up a date for these fools. A romantic dinner, on the beach maybe, whatever works. Candles, music, starlight, the works. Just make them fall in love with each other, at this point."

Miles" head shoots up, panic coursing through him. No, no, no. This is such a bad idea, there"s no way he"s going to walk away from this with any part of his dignity or his heart intact. God, why did he ever agree to do this?

Ethan catches his eye, and he looks so furious for a second that Miles forgets about his own anxiety. The look is gone as soon as Miles sees it, though, and he wonders if he just imagined it.

Octavia leaves the four of them standing there, walking back toward her seat.

"Let"s wrap for the day," she tells everyone. "Bright and early tomorrow, you know the drill."

There"s a flurry of movement as soon as she says that, noise filling the air as everyone packs up their equipment. Ethan looks like he wants to talk to Miles for a moment, but Dakota catches his attention, and they wander off without a word to Miles or Kieran, presumably planning their little date.

"Come on," Kieran says, breaking Miles out of his thoughts.

He doesn"t look as upset as Miles expects him to. In fact, his eyes are soft, and he"s smiling warmly at Miles, leading him toward their bungalows.

"We"ve got a fancy dinner to get ready for."

Miles almost groans at the reminder. Hell, today"s been draining enough, he doesn"t want to think about having to see Blackwood in a few hours. They walk back to their bungalows in silence, and Miles feels so completely drained. Maybe a shower will help. He hopes it does.

When Miles makes it back to his bungalow, he strips immediately, tossing his costume into the specific hamper he was told to use for his filming clothes. He feels better almost as soon as he"s out of it, and when he steps under the hot shower water, the rest of his exhaustion washes away, too. He closes his eyes, feeling some of the knots in his shoulders start to relax, just breathing in the steam and trying his best to relax. It"s hard, and he doesn"t quite manage to let go of everything as he washes and conditions his hair. He"s stressed to the gills, and he has no idea how he"s going to pull any of this off, not to mention that his mind refuses to wander far from thoughts of Kieran.

He"s still thinking as he steps out of the shower, skin scrubbed raw, hair shiny and clean. He wishes he could stop thinking about how Kieran reacts every time they"re supposed to kiss on camera. He must be really disgusted by Miles if he can"t even act like he wants to kiss him. Kieran is a fucking actor, after all.

Miles ignores the spiral that his mind is trying to pull him down into, shaking his head as he blow-dries his hair, setting it into loose waves to frame his face. Chloe always tells him it looks pretty when he styles it like that.

It doesn"t matter if Kieran isn"t attracted to him, and it doesn"t matter if he does a good job acting in some stupid movie. He"s here to do a job, and he"s finally making progress on that job. The start of it is tonight, so no matter how anything else goes, he needs to make sure all of his energy and effort goes into making this performance believable.

Fuck. How is he supposed to make any of this believable if he can"t even act like he"s attracted to someone he"s half gone on?

Anxiety swarms his mind as he starts slipping his suit on. Every piece of clothing feels more constricting, and by the time he"s slipping his tie around his neck, it feels like he"s tying his own damn noose.

He jumps at the knock on his door, messing up the knot for the fourth time, and curses in the mirror. After taking a moment to breathe, he walks over and pulls the door open, seeing Kieran on the other side.

He looks unreasonably beautiful, all broad shoulders and golden brown hair and a sweet, shy smile. Miles swallows down his nerves once again, stepping aside.

"C"mon in," he mumbles. "I"m almost ready."

Miles goes back to the mirror, sighing in relief when he finally manages to get the knot right. All that"s left is the tie pin, and he plucks it from the box of accessories the agents gave them, studying it once again. He looks down, clipping it on, and looks up at himself in the mirror with a brave face. He can do this.

The fucking pin is off-center.

"Goddamnit," he curses, leaning forward on the sink and taking a deep breath.

"You ok?" Kieran asks quietly, making his way into the bathroom.

Miles jumps at the sound of his voice and pastes a smile on his face.

"Yeah!" he says, a bit too loudly. "Fine. Just nervous. Need to, y"know, fix the pin. Good to go after that."

Kieran"s eyes fall to the tie pin, and he smiles softly, stepping even closer. Miles" breath catches in his chest as Kieran"s hands come up, plucking the pin from where he"d placed it and settling Miles" tie back on his chest. He"s so close, close enough that Miles can see the creases at the corners of his eyes and smell his cologne, all woody and masculine. It makes him a little lightheaded. When Kieran"s eyes flit up to meet his, Miles almost flinches.

"It"s just me," Kieran says, voice soft, almost intimate. "You don"t have to be nervous."

Miles almost laughs, but it just comes out as an anxious little breath. How the hell is he supposed to not be nervous right now? His heart is beating so loudly he"s sure Kieran has to be able to hear it, too, and what the hell is he supposed to think about the way Kieran looks at him before stepping back? Is he doing what Octavia said to do, method acting, or whatever? Miles knows he shouldn"t read into it, but, hell, give a guy a little warning.

"I can"t even perform in a movie," Miles blurts out. "How am I supposed to fool Blackwood? What if I fuck up, what do we do then? This could ruin your career, Kieran."

Kieran just laughs, effectively cutting off Miles" rambling.

"I signed on for this, too, Miles," Kieran reminds him, smiling softly. "You didn"t make me do anything. I"d be here, doing this, whether or not you were involved. As much as I hate the thought of you being in danger, I"m grateful you"re here with me. You"re the only thing keeping me sane right now."

Miles swallows hard, taking a deep breath to stop himself from bursting into anxious tears.

"Right," he chokes out.

He turns to look in the mirror, smiling at the tie pin, now sitting straight. He wants to do this right, all of this. He"s going to work his ass off, no matter what that takes, and he"s going to make sure he does all of this right.

"Ready?" Kieran asks.

Miles nods firmly, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Ready," he says.

They head out together, stepping onto the beach in their fitted suits and starting the walk toward the mansion. It"s a bit far away, but honestly, Miles is grateful for it. He needs the time to get all his nerves out, to breathe in the cooling night air with the scent of the sea and blooming flowers.

The gates are open by the time they make it there, and Miles glances at Kieran. They nod at each other, both taking a deep breath as they take the first step onto the driveway.

They can do this.

Miles pushes his nerves completely out of his mind, focusing instead on the sights and sounds around them. Gorgeous doesn"t really do the place justice—there are warm, softly glowing lanterns tracing a path up the driveway and leading toward an opulent garden. The flowers are in full bloom, fragrant and colorful, and making Miles feel a bit like he"s walking through a fairytale. As they reach the entrance to the garden, a uniformed butler greets them.

"Mr. Callahan, Mr. Rivera," he says, smiling warmly. "It is my pleasure to welcome you to the Blackwood Estate. Please, follow me."

He leads them slowly through a winding trail, beautiful tropical plants thriving on either side of the walkway. Miles looks at Kieran and is a bit relieved to see he"s just as awed by the sight as he is. Live concerto music drifts down from the mansion"s terrace, and the fading light makes it all feel like a dream.

When they reach the door, the butler steps in front of them and opens it, gesturing them inside.

"Please have a pleasant evening, Sirs," he says, closing the door behind them.

There"s a quiet click as the door closes, and Miles feels his nerves stir in his gut. Time for the show to really begin.

There"s another butler waiting for them here, along with a row of lockers. Miles glances at Kieran quizzically, but Kieran just shrugs.

"Please pick any locker that you would like," the butler invites, "and place your phones and any cameras or other recording devices inside. Mr. Blackwood appreciates your cooperating in aiding his attempts to maintain his privacy."

Miles shoots Kieran a look even as he pulls his phone from his pocket, and Kieran meets his eyes, obviously worried. Thankfully, no one searches them for other recording devices, and they still have their tie pins and the belt buckles, but Miles" anxiety makes a full recovery, setting his teeth on edge.

"Please, follow me," the butler says when they finish, leading them into the foyer. "Enjoy your evening."

The foyer is huge. Miles has never seen a single room this big in his entire life, not a hotel lobby or a conference room or anything else. The ceilings are so tall he has to crane his neck back to find where the walls actually end, seemingly stretching all the way up into the sky. There are carved marble pillars, a dual staircase, flower displays, huge carvings, and artwork. Everything is touched with gold.

Miles feels a bit like he"s in a museum.

He doesn"t have time to say anything before yet another butler enters with two crystal flutes of champagne balanced on a tray in his hand.

"Sirs," he says, dipping the tray in front of them.

Miles and Kieran share a look but take the offered glasses. There"s frost on the rims, delicate bubbles bursting at the edges of the sweet wine. Miles looks down at it as the butler exits, deciding not to take so much as a sip. He"s anxious enough, he doesn"t need to worry about what will come out of his mouth if he tries to soothe himself with alcohol.

Blackwood himself enters the room in the next moment, a wide smile on his face. He holds his arms out welcomingly as he makes his way over. He"s in a tailored suit, dark hair curling on his head, the scruff of his beard trimmed elegantly.

"My friends," he welcomes warmly, shaking both of their hands. "You"re the first to arrive. Let me show you the sights, please."

"It"s so good to see you, Mr. Blackwood," Miles says, hoping he"s not laying it on too thick as he flutters his lashes just a bit. "We"d love a tour."

Blackwood grins proudly, offering his arm to Miles.

"It would be my pleasure."

Miles hesitates for half a second, but wraps his free hand around Blackwood"s arm and allows himself to be led around, Kieran falling into step at his side. Blackwood leads them through winding hallways, pointing carelessly at lovingly framed works of art.

"An original Caravaggio," he says about one, obviously pleased when Miles hems and haws in shock. "This is a Titian, acquired at auction," he tells them, pointing at another.

Blackwood casually points at original pieces from Picasso, Rembrandt, and Rousseau. Hulking custom sculptures line the hallways and artifacts from all over the world are displayed in glass cases and hung on the walls. He takes them into the biggest library Miles has ever seen in his life, smelling of old wood and worn paper, with a rolling ladder reaching all the way up to the ceiling. As they wander, Miles" eyes catch on a painting, the only one hung in the entire room.

It"s massive, taller than him, framed in gilded wood, and he stops in front of it.

The colors are dark, almost murky, but the lines are crisp. It"s of a circle of muscled men with the heads of lizards, all staring down at something in the center of the torch-lined clearing they stand in. Whatever it is is hidden, but Miles almost feels like if he stands on his tiptoes, maybe gets a bit closer, he"ll be able to see through the gaps and catch a glimpse of what they"re all looking at.

"This painting has been passed down through my family for many years," Blackwood says.

He sounds proud, but he"s not looking at the painting at all. He"s looking at Miles, watching his every expression.

Kieran steps up beside Miles, studying it. Miles thinks Kieran might feel like it"s somehow important, too.

"It doesn"t look like the work of anyone I"ve ever seen," Kieran says softly. "What does it mean?"

"No one knows who painted it," Blackwood says, obviously pleased that the both of them are enraptured with it. "It was found in a family storage unit when I was a child."

Miles doesn"t know why, exactly, but something about that strikes him as a lie. He doesn"t look at Blackwood, just keeps his eyes on the painting.

"As far as we know, it"s an interpretation of an old Slavic game called The Lizard," he tells them. His eyes don"t ever leave Miles. "To play the game, a young man is to sit in the center of a circle. He"s surrounded by young women who recite a poem, one stanza per person, until the poem is complete. The young man then calls out the name of one of the girls, and she breaks the circle, sitting next to him and offering him her handkerchief. He is to call the names of all of the girls until none remain. When the game ends, he gives the girls their handkerchiefs back."

He talks almost like he"s hypnotized, his gaze finally shifting from Miles to the painting. He stares at it almost reverently.

Both Miles and Kieran wait in silence for a long moment, but Blackwood doesn"t continue, and they shoot each other a confused look. Blackwood seems to break out of his trance at the movement, and he looks at Miles again, grinning widely.

"I can see you have questions, dear boy."

"Well," Miles says, hesitant, glancing between Blackwood and the painting. "What"s the point of the game? It doesn"t make sense."

Blackwood leans in, then, so close that Miles can practically see the excitement swimming in his eyes.

"That"s the whole point," he hums, his grin widening further. "Even to this day, no one can tell what the game means."

Miles freezes, and he"s not sure why. Something about the way Blackwood is looking at him makes him feel like he"s in danger, like if he moves, the teeth of some unseen beast are going to snap closed around his throat. His shoulders ache almost immediately with how tense he is, and he wishes desperately that Kieran would say something, but the silence stretches.

He almost collapses in relief when a soft knock sounds on the door frame.

"I apologize for interrupting, Mr. Blackwood," a butler says demurely, hands clasped behind his back. "Your other guests have arrived, and dinner will be served soon."

Miles takes a deep breath when Blackwood nods, his smile fading a bit back into something that resembles a normal grin.

"Please, let me introduce the two of you to everyone," he says, turning them away from the painting and heading toward the door. "You"ll find some very interesting characters in attendance tonight."

Miles follows obediently, hand resting on Blackwood"s arm, but he glances back at the painting one last time.

He almost feels like those eyes are watching him.