Glycerin // Bush

I thought I was used to early mornings with my running habit and Emily's rehearsal schedule, but I was wrong. Jacob had to be on set for an early as hell call, hours before dawn, and in the special effects make up chair for day one of filming. I'm tired as hell but my anger is the fuel driving me forward. I'll stand at attention for the next twelve hours if I have to.

I don't even know who I'm mad at most; Anita for the way she's manipulated Emily's entire life, or Ryan for touching my girl.

I don't care what Jacob says about stage kisses. Ryan's lips touched Emily. That's an act of war and I'm itching for a battle.

"Bryant has some crazy shooting schedules, I swear. First day of filming and I have to pretend I got beat up and locked in a basement." Jacob's loud voice pulls me out of my fury. He shakes his head, causing the make-up artist to pause their work.

"Where's the motivation? I wish we were starting with the action scenes. My adrenaline is pumping so hard I could probably throw some convincing punches. That's the kind of method acting I can get behind." Jacob snaps his fingers before pointing at me. "We should spar later. Zack's been working on some manuvars with me this week I think would look good on film."

I nod stiffly, wishing his tendency to talk my ear off was tempered by the early hour. No luck. Instead I hyper focus on my surroundings, getting into the zone to keep my inner demon at bay, and do my best to blend into the background.

The trailer isn't big. Three artist stations set in front of a mirror with soft lights surrounding the glass is all it can hold. Everything in the metal box turned movie magic department was state of the art-ten years ago. The budget for this movie must not be as big as I thought, even though its the sequel to a major blockbuster.

The first movie, "Fatal Payback", was number one in the box office for weeks last summer. It's all anyone could talk about because of the break out star, Jacob. He came from nowhere, although I heard from both Clinton and Zack that he'd been grinding it out in Hollywood for years before he got his big break when another A-list actor dropped out due to scheduling conflicts.

The rumors swirling around Hollywood said otherwise. I'd heard speculation that the guy originally pegged for the starring role had a conflict with Emily, not his calendar. I believed it at the time. Now I wonder if her mother had something to do with it.

Nothing about that woman surprises me anymore.

My hyper focus on the trappings of the film industry in this town holds my attention for about an hour. Until my focus shifts entirely.

The door to the make up trailer which creaks open, glimpses of dark sky still visible outside. Even without the light of day, a ray of sunshine swoops in: Emily. If I thought I'd been in the zone I'm now proven wrong. Emily's presence consumes my entire being as she glances at me before her eyes dart quickly away. Her hair is up in the messy knot she prefers on early mornings. She's wearing the ratty shirt and leggings she wore so many months ago when Clinton and I met with her and Anita at Siren Song. The day I started recognizing the cracks in her armor. I thought she looked wrecked then.

I was wrong.

Emily is the picture of heartbreak. She projects energy and focus, a smile spread across her face which looks painted on. I've never understood when people described a smile as not meeting someone's eyes until now. Because this one doesn't even come close. She ignores me, holding her back straight and her head high. But I don't miss the lifelessness in her eyes. To everyone else, she probably looks fine. Perfect. But I've spent too much time with her to be fooled by this acting job.

She's broken.

Her hand shakes as she pushes a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. I shouldn't look this closely at her but I can't tear my gaze away. Emily is subtly stiff and guarded.

Because this is wrecking her.

Willing her to look up, to catch my eyes in the mirror, to see the intention in them, I hold my place against the wall where contact is possible. I watch as she fidgets, looking everywhere she can but into my eyes.

It takes a while, several long minutes of small talk and banter with the others in the room before her eyes catch mine, finally. But I let everything I've been holding back shine through my eyes. The love I feel for her. The need to protect her. The desire to save her from this prison she's been in.

I nod, imperceptibly, reassuring her I'm still in this. Still here. I'm not leaving her. It's not possible. I'll never stop working for her future, for ours together.

And at my private promise, the secret assurance that I'm not turning my back on us, Emily comes back to life.

The light filling her eyes, the hope, knocks me breathless. God, she's so beautiful. A rogue tear shines in her eyes before escaping the confines of her lashes, rolling down her cheek. Emily blinks, sending another tear chasing after the first, then laughs, saying something to her make-up artist while brushing the tears away.

Her joyful countenance at such a minor gesture on my part gives me more resolve to see this through no matter how miserable I am. She's who matters most. Her entire life is in the balance. I've never wanted more than to help set her free. Even if it means I have to lose her in the process.

A sobering thought to have under the circumstances. For all intents and purposes, I have lost her.

To Ryan.

And my seething frustration returns with a vengeance.

I shouldn't be this mad about a fake kiss for the cameras. But damn it, I am. I won't let Emily see my internal struggle, however. So I pull my emotions back down into the depths of my core, holding onto them for later.

The door opens again, this time Clinton stepping into the trailer. I find myself glaring at him.

Where's he been? He should be by Emily's side, protecting her. After all, he "fake" fired me to take over as her primary protection detail.

Clinton eyes me, clearly not happy with me, either. We don't speak as we take positions on opposite sides of the trailer. Another hour goes by before everyone is called to set on the sound stage to start filming for the day. Wordlessly, Clinton and I take positions on opposite sides of the phony basement where Jacob and Emily are supposed to be held captive by the villain. I'm happy for the distance considering I'm pissed at my boss, along with everyone else. The list of those I'm holding a grudge against is longer than I thought.

Lunch rolls around and I'm tested yet again. Because Ryan shows up, looking smug. He takes one look at me standing with arms crossed and a glare aimed right between his eyes and falters a step. My jaw clenches along with my fists but I stay put.

Jacob siddles up to me, claps one hand on my shoulder and shakes his head.

"Down boy. Let this play out. Snow Job, not blow job, remember?"

"Not helping." The words spill out of my clenched jaw.

"Yeah, that's what Char says when I try to help. Sorry, my filter is broken."

I scoff. "Yeah."

"Let's get food. Maybe a few carbs will help you. Zack still doesn't let me touch bread. Or sugar. Or anything good. But there's carrot sticks and kale salad so that should make him happy."

"Is he here?" I glance to the side where the craft tables and seating areas are set up under a tent outside the soundstage. Cast and crew linger around the food, talking. Several groups are already seated with their plates. But I don't see Zack at all.

Too bad. I could use a sparring session with someone who could actually kick my ass. Jacob is...not the one.

"Nah. But he keeps tabs on me. I have to send him screenshots of my food so he can tell me what to put back. But my six pack is worth it. Char hasn't complained."

I nod, not wanting him to continue. The guy is head over heels for his wife. Even with my bedroom on the other side of the house, I could hear things. Things I don't want to think about.

"Are you leading or following?" I ask. In public, I'd be in the lead to shove any undesirables out of the way. But in closed situations like this set, he can decide.

"I'll be line leader!" He declares his role as he pivots and marches to the food.

I shake my head and fall in line behind him.

It's near the end of lunch when I overhear the news that changes everything. Jacob's talking Emily's ear off. She's being a good sport and entertaining him. I stand off to the side near a hallway. The familiar voices spilling around the corner pull my attention away from the sight in front of me.

Ryan talking to Clinton.

That she'd contacted him because it's well documented public knowledge that Emily'd been messaging him during filming from the last movie and wouldn't it be poetic for them to date.

That dating Emily would elevate both of them. It would be great PR.

"It made my fucking skin crawl. I told her absolutely not." Ryan's voice is firm.

"And this was before the last headline. The one that had Anita on the phone to me?" Clinton asks.

"Right. At least six months ago. Honestly, I figured Emily was a spoiled Nepo baby and wanted nothing to do with her. I've gotten to know her since then, ya know? At Brianna's wrap party and rooftop barbeques. I get it, the public persona Emily had to put out there to distance herself from her mom. So when ANita called me again the other day, and after what I know about Emily, I saw through the bullshit to the truth."

I want to hate him less, but I still have the image of his lips on Emily's.

"So you aren't on Anita's payroll? You're here for Emily." Clinton clarifies the very question I had. If he's here for my girl, I'll refrain from kicking his ass.

"Nah, Anita's definitely paying me. But she's not why I'm here. I know what it's like to have shithead parents. I want to get her away from hers."

As much as my ego wants it to be me freeing her, I'm not such an asshole that I won't accept help. His words give me the motivation to let the kiss go.

"So that's everything?" Clinton asks.

"Um...not exactly."

My stomach drops at Ryan's tone. My restraint vanishes as well. The next thing I know I'm turning the corner to the hallway where they're talking and overhear the last bomb Ryan drops.

"Anita told me a baby wouldn't be the worst thing to come out of it."

"What.the.fuck."

Okay now we're getting somewhere...I'm really hoping to have another update by our usual Friday Feels timeline. AND THE END IS IN SIGHT! About 4 more chapters plus an epilogue. I can't believe I'm this close to finishing another full length novel. This makes 21 ( I think???) or something close to it.

I'm really having a struggle between starting the next book in the Blue Bloods series, following Marisol and an unnamed love interest, and another book in the Fallbrook University series following Gio and his female academic tutor. I'm developing both plots, but Gio's will be a marriage of convenience and I'm DYING to write a "my wife" scene... I might play a lot with that one while writing Mari's

I like the conflicting emotions in this song - generally about the struggles of love and relationships. Javi is struggling with all of it, and the lid just blew off...

https://youtu.be/hOllF3TgAsM

Just 11 days until inevitable is FREE. I'll be switching out the covers for the series, too. But read it right away because it's leaving Wattpad in early October!