Jay

Being a movie star was never as much fun as dreaming of being one – Marilyn Monroe

The stars twinkled brightly overhead and the moon cast beams of light upon where Jay reclined across the hood of his rental car, back against the windshield. He had his hands folded behind his head as a makeshift pillow and he stared up at the night sky.

"I can see why you like it out here," he said, turning his head to look at where Ginger lay next to him, her face upturned towards the moon and eyes closed. "It's very peaceful."

She smiled but didn't open her eyes. "I told you. It's my favourite place in town."

And he could see why. The Tishomingo National Wildlife Refuge had been a peaceful place to spend the afternoon. Quiet and calm, though Jay supposed everywhere except the rodeo grounds had likely been quiet and calm today. He hadn't anticipated spending the day with Ginger when he'd awoken that morning but they'd had a riding lesson and then she had invited him for a walk when it was clear that he wasn't heading to the town's rodeo. He would have liked to have seen the events but he'd known that attending would be going against his trying to keep a low profile.

So he and Ginger had turned the walk into all-day adventure. They'd – or rather she – had grabbed them coffees at the diner and from there they'd taken his rental car to the wildlife refuge. It had eventually led to them reclining across the roof of his car as they watched the moon ascend into the sky.

Throughout the day, she had taken him to all of her favourite spots, including a pool of water where they'd tried to spot some fish and birds. In the woods, they'd found more birds, colourful, and Jay swore that he'd even spotted a deer peeking out through the brush.

More impressive than the wildlife and the beautiful surrounding habitat was Ginger. Though he tried to keep his eyes on the woods, he couldn't help the way that his gaze wandered towards her. Ginger was absolutely striking with the intense focus that filled her body when she was preparing to snap a photo. When she lifted her camera to her eye, there was something about the set of her shoulders, the way her lips parted just slightly, that made it hard for him to look away.

Jay couldn't help it. He tried, damn him did he try, because he knew that she was in a relationship and that he was looking at her the way that he shouldn't under those circumstances.

But Ginger was...

He didn't have words to describe what Ginger was except to say that he liked spending time with her. More than that. He liked her, plain and simple. Liked the way she said what was on her mind and didn't seem to be bothered at all by the fact that he was a famous movie star. The last time he'd had that was with Claire and well...

Jay's gut clenched a little. He'd lost that one to the other guy.

He shook himself. Ginger was happily with Travis and Jay wasn't the type of guy to come between that. If there was one thing he prided himself on most of all was that he was his parent's son and they'd instilled good values in him. Pursuing someone who was taken and using his status as an A-lister to do so, even if he didn't consciously intend to use his celebrity in that manner, was something he had never done and he wasn't about to start now.

"Do you think you got any good photographs today?" Jay glanced at her camera, resting upon her chest, the strap still secured around her neck, and then forced himself to look back at the dark sky before his eyes outweighed the rationality of his brain.

He was an honourable man but he was still human.

"A few," Ginger answered. "Though I probably took a least a hundred bad ones before getting even a single one that I'll like."

"Will they end up in your portfolio for your art school applications?"

Now Ginger cracked open an eye, humour dancing in the iris. "You mean my non-existent art school applications? Probably not. Might end up on my blog, though."

"You have a blog?"

"Yeah. It's called Wanderlust. I started it after I got my camera and had all these big aspirations to leave Tishomingo and travel the world. I think I'm the only one who actually looks at it but it makes me feel like I'm doing something with my art instead of just hoarding it on my computer."

Jay stared at her a moment, taking in the quiet sadness that danced across the turn of her lips. "Do you mind if I look at it? I'd love to see your photos sometime."

Ginger turned her head. "You really want to see them?"

"I mean...You've been teaching me how to ride a horse and I've yet to get tossed or trampled so I feel like I might owe you something."

She laughed, the sound bright and echoing in the darkness. "Technically, you are paying me for my services."

He rolled his eyes. "With a ticket to a movie premier which is basically nothing. If you won't let me pay you in actual money, then at least let me fanboy over your photographs."

Ginger snorted, her nose wrinkling in a manner that made Jay smile and something stirred low in his gut as he took her in laughter and carefree expression. "You don't seem like the fanboy type."

"That's because you haven't seen me watch the Yankees."

"You're a baseball fan?"

"It's the great American pastime. Plus I grew up playing little league and it's the only sport that ever really stuck with me. I wasn't much into football or hockey like my brother. What about you? Any sports aside from riding horses?"

Ginger shrugged. "Not really. I played a little soccer for a while and then decided that I hate running. I think my mom was happy about it. She hated sitting through my practices and games. Once she told me that she actually preferred the act of painting and watching it dry to watching me play." She smiled at the memory and he wanted to know more. Wanted to hear every single second she was willing to share of her normal, mundane, everyday life.

"What are your parents like?" he asked.

"Well, my mom is a dental hygienist and my dad is a carpenter. They're the hardest working people that I know and they've always been...practical, you know? My dad used to be the artsy one, though. When I was a kid, he used to be the one to sit at the kitchen table and draw with him. He was really good at it, too. I think it's why he went into carpentry. It's like art made real and functional." She sighed a little wistfully. "He mostly frames houses now though. Once, he wanted to open up his own custom furniture place but it was too much of a financial risk so he's never done it."

Jay thought he could see some of her father in Ginger, though he'd never met the man. Still, hoping he was wrong, he looked upon her face and murmured, "But that won't be you, right? You'll take the risk one day with your photography." He said the words as a statement, not a question.

Ginger turned her head, staring back. "What makes you so sure?"

Her eyes were wide and brown and beautiful and Jay couldn't look away. There was an intensity to her gaze that lit a fire in his gut. She always had something serious about her face but this was different. It was...hopeful, too. As if she was hoping that he had some magic answer for her, some way out of this small town.

He did but she wouldn't take it. If there was one thing he knew for certain about Ginger, she wouldn't accept charity and if he offered her enough money to fund a move to New York and art school, she would surely reject it.

So instead, Jay said, "Because you have it."

"It?"

"The passion and the drive to be an artist. I've seen countless hopeful actors and musicians, artists and writers come to Los Angeles and New York, trying to make names for themselves. Most of them haven't been successful but those who have, they're like you. It's in their face, the way they talk about their art and passions. I see that in you, Ginger. There's not a doubt in my mind that if you get out there, you'll accomplish everything that you want to."

Ginger said, "That's a lot of faith when you haven't even seen a single one of my photos."

"Well now that I know you have a blog, I may have to do some internet stalking."

This elicited a reaction he didn't expect. She flushed deeply, her cheeks going scarlet, and suddenly she looked away.

"What?" he inquired, sitting up a little on the hood of the car so that he could lean over to peer at her and her red face.

"I did do some internet stalking," she confessed quietly, little more than a whisper. Not guilt but embarrassment flooding her tone. "On you."

"Do tell. Find anything of interest?"

"A few failed relationships. Images of fancy parties and wild clubs. There was one story, something about you being difficult on set. Yelling at people."

Jay groaned. He remembered that one. "Most of them are taken out of context. The majority of the photos of me at parties and clubs are from wrap parties of various projects I've worked on or publicity stunts for all of the fake relationships I've been in."

Ginger's brows raised. "You've been in fake relationships?"

"Most of them are fake, yes. My agent will usually connect with someone else's agent. Sometimes a co-worker or a popular musician and they'll suggest that we pretend to be romantically involved for a few months before big project releases so we'd go out to get photographed and then after a while it would all end."

"So Claire and Lennon...Were they the only two that were real for you?"

"Claire was. Lennon and I...I was too much of an ass for her at the time." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "It was never really anything except an unrequited crush on my end. I've had maybe two other relationships that were real in spirit but they fizzled out quickly."

"Why?"

"One was heading off to England for a movie shoot that was set to last a whole year and the other just...ended. No drama. No anything."

"And the yelling at people on set?"

"Director on one of my last films. He was bullying the catering staff and some of the P.A.s. I was first on the call sheet so if there was anyone who could call him on his shit, it was me. So I did."

Ginger sighed as if disappointed. "You're a boring celebrity aren't you?"

He laughed. "Sorry to disappoint."

"No," she said and that smile of hers that wrinkled her nose returned. "You don't."

***

An hour later, Jay dropped Ginger at the diner, watching until she climbed into her car and gave him a wave as she sped off towards home, and then he turned toward his hotel, trying his best to outpace the growing feelings that were accumulating in his body. Inappropriate, he kept telling himself. You've got to get a hold of yourself.

She's in a relationship and you're leaving soon. It can't happen.

It. Can't. Happen.

But that smile taunted him. As did the bright glow of her brown eyes.

Relationship. Not with you.

Jay pushed the car faster as if the increased distance would help, though he knew in his heart that it would not. The stupid thing seemed inclined to always want to beat for the wrong person.

Lennon.

Claire.

And now Ginger.

Idiot, he told himself. You're a major freaking idiot. You need to make better choices here.

It seemed, however, that he was not the only one needing to bring himself back into order for when he walked into his hotel room, it was to see Brock sprawled across the bed with a pillow thrown over his face as if he could block out the world.

"What happened?" Jay asked instantly. "I gave you my spare key for emergencies and you look like you're in a crisis right now. Did you get swarmed at the rodeo? Were paparazzi at the rodeo? What did Strickland put into the papers this time?"

Brock muttered something entirely unintelligible.

"What?"

"Ikidim."

That was no less clear than the muttering.

"I still have no idea what you just said, dude," Jay commented and then started as Brock through the pillow away and stared up at the ceiling blankly.

"I kissed him."

This only created more questions than it answered. "You kissed someone? Who? At the rodeo? Did you meet a hot cowboy you couldn't keep your hands off of?"

It was meant to be teasing but Brock's eyes slid to his, a little anguished, and Jay straightened. All traces of humour vanished.

Brock dropped his eyes. "Travis."

Jay reeled. "Travis Grant?"

"I knowwwww," Brock groaned and threw his arms over his eyes to replace the discarded pillow. "What a stupid, irresponsible, dim-witted thing. Please kill me and end my embarrassment."

For a long moment, Jay could only stare at his friend and then his mind flashed to Ginger. He shook himself. "I need a drink for this conversation. You want one?"

"Make it a double. Please."

He poured two glasses of neat whiskey and handed one of them over to Brock who sat up at the offering and then promptly downed the entire thing in one go. Sighing, Jay grabbed the bottle and wordlessly placed it into Brock's hand.

"What happened?" Jay asked, collapsing into the little armchair in the corner. "How the fuck did you end up kissing Travis Grant?"

It was an effort to keep his voice even, inquisitive, but inside he was simmering a little. Not because he particularly cared about Travis but because this news would inevitably hurt Ginger.

Brock hesitated. "I shouldn't..."

Jay could tell this was more than a little kiss-and-tell scenario because as far as the world knew, Travis was straight. What had happened tonight had the potential to send major ripples through this town if news got out. "Whatever you say won't leave this room. I promise."

Brock took a swig from the bottle of whiskey and his next breath was shaky. "Travis is gay. Or bi. Not sure which but he's definitely into guys."

"Obviously or you wouldn't have kissed him. What gave you that impression?"

"It was a hunch at first. Just things I picked up on when we've been hanging out. Some of the things he says and the expressions on his face. And then today there was this cowboy that he knew and the way the two of them were looking at each other... I've made that face at award shows and red carpets when I've been trying to hide who I am from the tabloids. I recognized it. And I know he's in a relationship with that girl Ginger and I shouldn't have done it but he's just this great guy and I can't get him out of my head so when he came to drop me off, I said things I shouldn't have said and then I kissed him."

"What happened after you kissed him?" Jay asked. "Did he kiss you back?"

"He did — but just for one second and then he went still as a rock and I got out of his truck and he left. He didn't say so much as a word so I didn't say anything either." Brock groaned. "I have to face Bailey tomorrow. God, I'm a dumbass."

Jay absorbed this but he didn't know what any of it meant. The magic of his day with Ginger had vanished in the wake of this news and his heart broke a little on her behalf. She hadn't necessarily been cheated on, per say, because it didn't sound as if Travis had really responded at all beyond shock.

Still, if she found out this could hurt her and Jay had come to care about Ginger enough that seeing her hurt was something he hoped she could avoid.

"So what does all of this mean?" he dared ask.

"I don't know," Brock confessed. "I need to talk to Travis. At the very least to apologize and hope that he doesn't tell Bailey about any of this. If this gets back to my new label, I'm for sure done."

"Brock—"

He waved Jay away. "We both know it's true. Gay musicians have a harder time in country music, it's a fact. With all of the shit going around with Trace...The last thing I need is for this to come up somewhere if shit hits the fan in the morning."

"Why'd you do it if you're so worried about it going public?"

Brock sighed and took another long pull from the bottle. "Because I think I might be a little bit in love with this guy." At Jay's shocked expression he lifted a hand and gestured with the whiskey bottle. "We've been hanging out a little and I'm not in love-in love but...He's nice and funny and selfless, and oh my god have you seen those biceps? He's hot, Jay. I couldn't help myself."

Jay said a prayer for mercy and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Look at us, he thought. We're both exceptionally pathetic over the completely wrong people.

And somehow the only one completely out of the loop was Ginger. She had no idea about any of it unless Travis deigned to tell her what had happened between himself and Brock.

This was a small town though and Jay didn't know how receptive the townsfolk were to the queer crowd. He hadn't been here long enough, hadn't spent enough time with them, to get that sense. If they were back in LA, no one would bat an eye at seeing two guys kissing in the middle of the street but here?

It was entirely possible that Travis would say nothing. That by the time the morning came around, all that would remain was Brock's embarrassment.

"Don't stress," Jay said, drinking again and watching as Brock took a swig. "In the morning, this will all have blown over. Trust me."