Falling Without Caution

Chapter 9 - Liam

When I was still a young boy, I used to wonder how my mom's death could change my once kind-hearted father into such a monster. Not to say he was angelic before, but he certainly wasn't abusive or rude. He had more than enough charm to make Mom fall in love and a mischievous smile not unlike mine. I started to categorize my life into 'with Mom' and 'after Mom' and scorn my father for changing so drastically in between the two stages.

Then I met Elise.

And now I can understand how caring about someone can be so all-consuming that the time you spent before them feels insignificant and not as special. Not as special, because the brightness they bring along with them is no longer present.

Even as I drag my lazy limbs out of bed, grab my phone off the nightstand, and prepare to hit the gym with James, my first instinct is to shoot her a text good morning. But I quickly decide that will just come off too strong, and reluctantly close all my apps, switching the device to Do Not Disturb.

Yesterday—was a wild ride of a day. It began with filming as per usual, though we may have pulled Elise's leg to help her improve her acting. I'll admit, I felt devastatingly guilty about my part in it at the moment, yet now it's quite amusing. But, that wasn't what made my day so chaotic. And for once, it was chaotic in a good way.

Moreover, every time I squabble with Dad, Elise somehow shows up and makes it better. Last evening's events would've felt disastrous—what with my treacherous father cutting off my contact with Bianca—but Elise turned the day right around. Instead of pitying me or offering her sympathy, like most people I know would have, she chose to take my mind off things. I would give a detailed description of what we did when she invited me over to her house, but, if speaking only the truth, I'm unfortunately inclined to confess that all my attention was on her. On the girl who is so scared of everyone leaving her, but would never leave someone herself.

In those seemingly magical moments, I made myself a silent promise.

No matter what, I will not depart from Elise at the end of whatever it is between us. If she doesn't want me as anything but a friend, then a friend I will be. And if she so pleases that I play the role of her enemy, I can manage that too. So long as she is somewhere I can always reach her, I will be satisfied to be breaking the endless cycle of those she cares about abandoning her. She'll never know how much it means to me that she has seen all the shattered pieces of me and not walked away forever. It's a debt I will happily spend the rest of production trying to repay.

Snapping me out of my Elise-enduced daydreaming, my idiotic phone pings obnoxiously loud for six a.m. on a Monday morning. James. Sighing, I open the message, annoyed that he pressed the 'deliver anyway' button to surpass my 'leave me alone' settings.

Dude, are you coming or not? I thought we agreed on six?

For someone so informal, James is ridiculously punctual. It's only five past, and, unlike him, I have a rather long walk to the gym from my room near the director's office—though that isn't a problem for Dad. I sincerely doubt he's worked out a single day of his life. Probably because he never has to be seen on camera.

I shoot back: Sorry, bro. Running ten minutes late. :(

Then I silently push open the door so as not to awaken my father—lacing on my shoes in what must be my new personal record—before jogging towards the gym. Despite being late, I opt for the longer route; there's no feeling quite like a soft morning breeze and the enchanting smell of morning dew hitting you at the same time. Except maybe for a warm hug that smells like jasmine flowers and... Actually, never mind, not going there.

I push open the door where James' head is peaking in the window, careful not to hit him in the process. The rank smell of sweat slams into my nostrils almost immediately, and I shake my head twice to clear it.

"Fiiiinally, bro," James complains, "You're fifteen minutes late."

I offer up my usual smirk. "Guilty." We exercise in silence, enjoying the calm of the morning, when James speaks up.

"How'd you ask Elise out?"

The sudden inquiry causes me to drop the weight in my hand.

"Why?" I ask warily.

"Because... I may or may not want to ask out Fiona?" he answers sheepishly.

I snort. "Dude, that girl is more likely to slap you than date you."

"Well, that's what everyone thought about Elise, what you surely thought about her," he defends, which once again sways my mind to thoughts I was avoiding, and a nagging truth I want to admit. Let me be frank when I say this: I never hated Elise. Not when we first met, not when I learned she was my co-lead, and certainly not once filming started. I'm not a particularly sweet person, and when I really care what someone thinks of me, I tend to get more closed off. And me being more closed off than I already am can definitely be disastrous. As for the reason why impressing Elise was such a pressing matter in my head... it's honestly embarrassing to admit aloud. But, if I can't trust James who has become one of my best friends, I do suppose it would be difficult to trust anyone else.

"That's not what I thought of Elise," I quip, shocked at the words about to come out of my mouth, "I..." I shake my head fondly, slightly ashamed at the blush creeping into my cheeks.

"Then why were you always snapping at her?" James eyes me down, expecting me to finish even as I start to regret my decisions to tell him something so personal.

"I had a crush on her," I mumble, ears turning pink.

"Repeat that," James demands, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"I had a crush on her?" I cringe as it comes out more question-like than I intended.

"You what?"

I'm about to snap at James for repeating the same inquiry again, when I register that it wasn't his voice I had heard.

Standing before me with her hair tied into a ponytail and sweat slicking her forehead is Fiona. And beside her, in matching attire, is Elise.