Page 52 of After Effect

~Hold me in that darkness. Hold me for the night. Hold me as the moon gives up its final light.~

The grin on my face was involuntary. Showing up, broken leg and all, immediately following a front page tabloid level car accident, turned her into a sensation big enough to steal the limelight from the headliners. The cameras were all on her. The crowd was overflowing. Entertainment news stations were blowing up with her face. Everyone wanted to know who she was.

I should be there.

No, she’s doing just fine. Even without me there. Her voice sounded phenomenal, not even encumbered by her undoubtable pain. I was glowing with pride. It was worth it. All of it was worth it for this moment.

But I barely had time to take it all in when Mark returned from the deck. “Finch, grab your things and meet me in the car. I’m going to introduce you to someone.”

###

Lilly Cisneros

Two stage hands practically carried me from the spotlight, as applause roared through the crowd. They pushed through paparazzi and wheeled me to the safety of the lounge trailer.

“Thanks so much, boys.” I lifted a weak hand to emphasize my appreciation. “If you don’t mind, keep everyone out for a couple hours. I’m going to get some rest.”

They nodded and left me to my devices. I sunk into the chair, and dug for the phone in my pocket. I hit dial.

“Finchy, I did it.” I laughed through my hoarse and tired throat.

“You did.” He sounded distant.

I frowned into the receiver. “You’re not still mad, are you?”

“Of course not. You really made me proud today, Lilly.”

That was far too soft a statement to be Finch. He must still be drugged. I grinned widely, happy to get to take advantage of this refreshing bit of honesty. “Anytime, babe.”

He chuckled. I smiled.

“Hey… Can I call you back?” Finch’s voice was shaky. No, maybe just tired. That would make more sense.

“Sure. Right. I just wanted to check in. Hear your voice.” I managed one more laugh.

“I appreciate it. Good work. Get some rest. Talk later.” He hung up, and I was left, again, with exhausting silence. I closed my eyes and laid my head back on the couch.

###

Five hours disappeared. Which I only know because I fell asleep with my phone still loosely in my hand. I might have taken more if not for the light rapping on the door of my dark trailer.

“Sorry, I’m awake!” I called into the darkness. Someone must be here to check on me. “Come in.”

The door opened, and the light came on too quick and too bright for my eyes to even try to adjust. I lifted a hand to block the artificial sun from burning through my retinas.

“You must be Lillian Maria Ainsworth-Cisneros.” Startlingly green eyes met mine, upturned by a broad smile. He was a perfect picture of rugged masculinity, with the skin of a sun-tempered Californian, and the dark hair of an Eastern European. But his accent was… Italian maybe? Not Spanish. Not Turkish either.

“Yep, that would be me.” I tried to sound cordial, but I was too drained, physically and mentally, to be “on” right now. “Are you… with the crew?”

“You could say that.” He approached, his hands in the pockets of a dark pair of jeans. “It’s Andrea.” He offered a hand. Definitely Italian. “Mr. Baek sent me over to check on you. You did great today. So great in fact, I’ll be stepping in as your new tour manager.”

Finally some recognition. “What about Finch? He’s not…”

“Reassigned? No. Think of me as an additional resource, not a replacement resource.” His eyes continued to smile, but something about his expression felt distinctly false. Like he was a soulless puppet performing ‘human emotions’ for the crowd. I’d met plenty of wooden actors like this in Hollywood. Empty and narcissistic, yet trying so hard to fool the world that they were neither of those things.

Perhaps that’s a common trait in this industry. Or just corporations in general. Mr. CEO felt similar.

“Well, in that case, happy to make your acquaintance.” I reached for a crutch that was leaning against the wall beside me.

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