Teen Idols And Happy Meals

Cinnamon And Destiny

Jacen’s POV

“So that’s it then? You’re going to give it all up – everything we worked for – just for some girl?”

I looked at him, trying to force my eyes to focus. Black dots were rushing into my vision before receding just as rapidly, leaving me feeling disoriented and dizzy. I braced myself against the counter, blinking heavily. Everything was wavering – fading in and out.

“She’s not just some girl,” I forced the words out. They tasted like bile on my tongue. I nearly choked on them. “She’s . . . she’s uh . . .”

“Cut!”

Hank’s voice was sharp as he called out, the piercing sound of it making my ears ring. I looked up, pushing my hair off my forehead. It was damp with sweat. The stage lights were hot on my neck, pressing down on me like the dozens of stares aimed my way.

“Jacen,” Hank lamented, shaking his head. “What’s up with you today? You never forget your lines.”

“I know, I know,” I muttered, struggling to pull in breath. The air felt thick – like I was trying to breathe soup. It smelled of lemon pledge and self-tanner – the studio’s own personal scent. It made me sick. “Just – just give me a minute.”

“Seriously? This is the third time today,” Rosalyn protested dramatically from where she sat atop the counter, her pale legs bare and swinging free. Her face was hauntingly pale, like an image conjured on an acid trip, as her dark gaze swung to me accusingly. “I think somebody’s losing his game.”

“Shut the fuck up Rosalyn,” Pat snapped viciously on my account. He drew closer to me, the artificial coldness draining from his expression to be replaced by genuine concern as he broke character. 

“Hey, you alright man?” he asked, placing a consoling hand on my shoulder.

“I – I’m fine. I just – I can’t remember my fucking line,” I muttered, pulling away to pace. I pushed my hands angrily through my hair, staring at the floor. I was aware of the eyes on me, watching me like I was some sort of sideshow. But I didn’t care. I was used to it.

“She’s not just some girl. She’s the girl – the only girl that ever meant anything. The only person who’s ever made me feel like maybe – I’m worth something too. So yes, I’d throw it all away for her, because without her, none of it means anything. Don’t you see? I love her. And if I had to choose between her and every other person on the planet – I’d pick her. I’ll always pick her.”

I knew the line – knew it inside and out. So why couldn’t I say the words? I knew why – because every time I tried I saw her face. Nikki. Beautiful in every way a person can be beautiful. I saw her crying, as she was the last time I saw her, and it made my heart twist in my chest to know that I caused those tears.

“Is your highness ready to get on with the scene?” Rosalyn crooned teasingly from her perch. Her dark hair was curled that day, and it made her look younger. I wasn’t sure why that mattered, but then again, I wasn’t sure why anything mattered.

“Oh my God Rosalyn!” Pat shouted with exasperation, “I’m going to fucking waste you one of these days!”

“Alright, alright,” I muttered, pacing back over to the set. The floor was moving and swirling beneath my feet, but I ignored it. “Just – just knock it off. Let’s start the scene again.”

“Now there’s an idea!” Hank said gleefully, clapping his hands together, “Okay, places everyone! Chop, chop!”

I take a deep breath, exhaling heavily, trying to physical expel the toxins from my body. I’d spent the past two days pumping so many drugs into my body I could barely remember how I’d even gotten home that morning.