Are we? Are we perfect as just friends?
Because it doesn't feel perfect. It feels like I'm only giving him half of the person I am.
“Come on,” he says, nudging me in the arm with his shoulder. “I know you didn't forget, you have the memory of an elephant. Why didn't you—”
I don't let him finish, cutting him off with my lips instead.
I kiss him.
I kiss him to silence him, and I kiss him so I don't have to answer. I kiss him because I should have done this a long time ago.
But no one can live in the past.
So, why does this feel right?
Why does this feel like the past just caught up with me?
8
Douglas
This is where I belong.
I stand with my hands on my hips, looking out at the set we built for Eileen. People are coming and going, moving like bees around a hive. I'm proud of this. Proud of how far we've come and where we're going.
Lyllian is really shining and has been since the first day. Eileen's told me multiple times already that she's so happy to have her here. I feel the same. I get to see the way her eyes light up when she's being told she's doing an incredible job.
We've been working on the set together for two weeks now. And I have to say, things couldn't be better. Not only is production running smooth and right on time, but Lyllian caught on quickly, and is making quite the impression with everyone, not just Eileen.
Even I can see how much of a natural she is. I get to steal small glances of her when she isn't paying attention. I like that the most, when she doesn't know I'm watching. It's perfect for me to just take her in. Her smile, her laugh, the way she talks with her hands when she's describing something.
But I'm a selfish man. A part of me wants her smile all to myself. I want to capture her laugh and steal her words for my ears and my ears alone.
She's not mine. No matter how much I want to stake my claim on her, I know in her eyes, this is all just pretend. We're playing a twisted game of Russian roulette, and the bullet is pointing at me.
Lyllian comes out of the side door and smiles at me as she walks by carrying a stack of papers. Eileen put her in charge of updating the scripts when things change, and getting the new scripts out to all the actors. She does some intern type research for Eileen too, and is basically becoming her right hand.
“Hello,” a familiar voice says from behind me. I look over my shoulder and see my parents standing there. “We're looking for the famous producer Douglas Myers? We heard we could find him in here.”
“Mom, Dad,” I say surprised, and walk toward them with my arms out. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, when you told us how well things were going, we couldn't help ourselves, we had to come see it. Call me selfish, but I love bragging to everyone about my son.” My mother looks over at my father, and grins. “Plus, your father really wants Fior Depitrillo's autograph.”
“What?” My father puffs his chest and shakes his head. “That's not what I said at all.” His eyes start to wander around the room. “Is he here? I mean, I think I heard something about it, but I don't know.”
“Sorry, Dad, he's not here today. Actually, he's not coming for a few days, but I am excited you're here. How about I show you around?”
“That depends, is there a food table?” my father asks as he rubs long circles over his belly.
“You mean a green room?”
“I mean a table with food. I'm starving, and your mother refused to let me eat before we came.”
“I didn't refuse to let you eat, you didn't want anything we had. Don't blame me for this, Stephen.”
My parents and I are close, but it's been a few years since they stepped foot in Warwick. After I graduated college, and my father retired from the police force, they decided to move two hours away so my mother could take care of my ill grandmother.
Most of the time I head out there to see them for the holidays, and I make the trip every couple of months for a weekend just to visit, so this is a huge surprise. They never once mentioned they were planning to come here.
“Wait,” I say as a thought crosses my mind. “Is this really why you're here? Is Grandma okay?”
“Oh, she's fine, Douglas. She's doing about the same as she was the last time you were down. I was able to get some in home care for her so I could make the trip out to see you.” She reaches out and grabs my arm. “Well, are you going to show us around? I want to see what my big, important son is responsible for.”