Behind the Scenes

Chapter Four

During the six weeks spent filming Everything Left Unsaid, it was clear that Joe was otherworldly-talented, but his magic felt like our little secret, shared through excited grins that Cath and I exchanged between takes or felt in the goosebumps that'd pop up along my arms whenever he transformed from Joe into Greg with just the slightest tweak to his facial expressions. Watching him work took my breath away. It was another memory I tucked away to keep sacred for myself.

          Those six weeks were bound to be just a blip in Joe's career, whereas I'd cherish them forever.

          Then Joe's season of Brothers in Arms premiered and changed everything.

          Our little indie film started getting way more buzz than we anticipated, the hunger for more Joe the leading force behind the chaos. Even now, as I scroll through social media while Angie flatirons my hair into submission, he's everywhere. I'm sure some of it's the algorithm, internet cookies seeing "Joseph King" in various places on my phone and bombarding me with what they think is relevant content. 

          But when I click over to his profile and see his 8.1 million followers on just 11 posts, I wonder how he's managing his newfound fame.

          Carrie, my editor, always on my case about follower count and growing my online presence, even asked me if I had any pictures of Joe and I together that I could post.

          "He's all anyone's talking about right now," she said. "It'd be a big help to the PR department."

          I told her I didn't--an obvious lie, since my current lock screen is a group shot of me, Joe, Cath, and Maya.

          I wouldn't sell him out like that. I feel gross just thinking about it.

          Once Angie has finished attacking me with hairspray (honestly, it's like a napalm bomb exploded on my head) and Deandra has given my now pin-straight hair the seal of approval, it's time to start thinking about dinner. 

          With Joe in the same city as me again, I could ask him to join me. 

          The thought is almost too tempting. My fingers hover over my phone screen, itching to type out the message, but I can't do it. If he said no, I'd be mortified. And crushed. Better to leave all that to daydreams.

          My phone buzzes as I'm waiting for my pizza to arrive and obsessively going over the interview dossier Carrie sent me last week. It's basically an oh-shit list of super generic and easy to memorize answers to common questions in case I panic and blank.

          And with my first ever television appearance less than 24 hours away, I'm definitely panicking.

          Still, any excuse to think about something other than being on live TV is a welcome one, and I pounce on my phone the second I hear it vibrate.

          Speak of the devil.

          Almost like my thoughts have summoned him, I unlock my phone to find a new message from Joe. This time, it's been sent to me alone and not the WhatsApp group we're in with Cath and Maya.

          Hey Livi, you nervous for tomorrow?

          My heart skips a beat and I chew my lip while contemplating how to reply. My palms break out in nervous sweat and I halt my pacing in order to concentrate on sounding cool. Normal. Chill.

          I like you so much.

          Yeah, definitely not typing that.

          I sink into the stiff hotel loveseat and tap out a reply. I read it over once before hitting send.