Ask Him (Mess with Me 1.50)

1

“Mr. Lavin! Look this way!”

Hundreds of camera flashes spark as I turn, holding still so the photographers can get their shots. Ella, the model on my arm, thrusts out one leg and puts a hand on her hip, completely unfazed by the commotion.

She was a good choice for tonight.

Movie premieres are not my favorite things but my publicist insisted that walking the red carpet for the latest Oscar contender was a must. The fact that half of the men I’ve seen so far are wearing my designs soothes my irritation at giving up my evening. For a fashion designer, there is no ego boost quite like seeing your designs in the wild.

“Andre! We love you!!”

Cheers, whistles and screams erupt from the crowd behind the barricade as I make my way down the red carpet. As much as I hate the press circuit, the fans are the reason why I bother. Everywhere I go, they appear holding handmade signs and wearing shirts with my face on them. They blow kisses, scream my name and yes, women have been known to faint when I stop to give autographs. But the ego boost isn’t why I do this, despite all evidence to the contrary.

It’s the love they shower on me that makes it all worth it.

The young man who styled himself from the advice on my Instagram and got the job. The young woman who leaves a comment on a photo of a plus size model that she feels included. The busy executive who can relate to the random stories and pictures I share. These people have a connection with me and I feel one to them in return.

The flashes continue as I move down the red carpet slowly. If it was just me, I would probably pose once and then move on but the model on my arm deserves her chance to shine. She’s one of the new models chosen to walk in my last show and is hungry for every opportunity to gain exposure. She’s also not interested in men, the only reason I agreed to escort her tonight.

From the corner of my eye I notice my assistant, Kate, following just out of sight of the photographers, ready to jump in at a moment’s notice. Up ahead, my best friend and the COO of Lavin Fashions, Jason Gautier, is on the arm of Hollywood’s newest starlet.

The romance must be a PR stunt otherwise he would have told me about it. But either way, the resulting press and media coverage will only be good for Lavin Fashions. Especially since Jason is of course wearing a suit from our upcoming line.

“Andre! Always good to see you. Have you met Annalisa?” He motions to the heavily made up blonde on his arm. When he turns back to me, his eyes shift to something over my shoulder. Then he pushes me to the side, shoving me into Ella so hard that she stumbles.

I faintly hear a scream and the sun glints off metal, the shine so bright it blinds me temporarily.

“I love you!”

When my eyes meet the young girl’s, for a moment she looks startled, then euphoric.

“We were meant to be together. Forever.”

Her arm raises high and for a moment all I can think is this is it. My last moments will be spent at the premiere of a movie I don’t want to see on the arm of a woman I don’t love. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion as her arm arcs downward and the knife cuts through the air. Behind her, I have a close up view of Jason’s horrified face as he reaches to grab her but he’s not close enough.

The knife continues it’s deadly plunge until it tears through the skin on her arm, spraying a crimson streak across her shirt.

“I love you, Andre! I’m your biggest fan.” Her eyes lock on mine, huge and earnest as she is lifted off the ground from behind. Security surrounds us now, putting themselves physically between us to block me from any potential danger.

But all I can think is that the true danger isn’t something they can protect me from.

The danger is in being me.

2

This is what I needed.

I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the soft, fragrant Italian air and then open my eyes to behold the land that has been in my family for almost a century. There is an undeniable beauty here- the dappled sunlight that spills over the olive grove, the caress of the breeze that brings the scents of the sea - but most important, is the sense of history. Of continuity. Knowing that I’m standing in the same spot my father once stood and his father before him and so on.

If anything can fill the void that has opened in me these past few months, it would be this place.

For the last few days, I’ve done everything you’re supposed to do on vacation. Eaten at the local restaurants, taking time to talk to each proprietor, many of whom are the same as when I used to visit as a child. I’ve slept the dreamless sleep that only medication can provide and read books that barely held my interest. Each day and each night I have put forth effort to rest my mind and relax my body and nothing has worked.

I am still not happy.

“Who could be unhappy here?” I speak the words aloud, needing to hear them, hoping that putting them out there in the universe will reveal the answer. But the olive trees seem content to ignore me and just be.

Maybe I should take a lesson from these trees.