Spotlight

05

He laughed.

"What?" I growled down at him. I looked over his body that was slouched down in the chair and noticed how much muscle he had put on since I'd seen him last. He was not the same boy that I once knew. I questioned if he would even fit his broad shoulders into one of the small, stingy sized seats.

"You know I have my own private jet now?" he asked.

"And?"

"You're stressing about an audition in a days time, and here I am in a Miami airport."

"What are you saying?" I laughed.

"I'm Hollywood's hottest actor," he smirked, "Everyone in this airport wants me."

"Okay, sure," I groaned and turned back towards the window, "Why didn't you just get your private jet to take us then?"

"It's out of service in Las Vegas, too many trips there probably," he laughed, biting his lip.

I rolled my eyes at the abrupt cockiness that rose up in him. Obviously this year had treated him well. He had probably lost a lot of his life savings to gambling before he checked himself into rehab.

The overhead intercom sounded, and it was time for us to board our flight. I collected my one bag that we didn't check in before, and walked to the line where people were crowding as the two flight attendees opened the ropes that stopped us from boarding.

Tristan followed me as we lined up, not a word being said between us.

*******************

Once two in the afternoon came around, I fluttered open my eyelids to see Tristan staring out the window. After fighting me for the window seat (and winning), he shut up for the duration of the flight, which helped me manage to sleep for the entire five hours.

He sharply shoved his elbow into me, forcing me to quickly awake from my sleep. I groaned and outstretched my arms.

"What?" I asked.

"We're here!" he smiled, pointing out the land as we flew over it.

He had seen L.A. one thousand times, it's not like it had changed since being here last.

I briefly looked over his shoulder whilst I packed my bag, and before I knew it we were landing.

It hit me how differently things were when I landed here last time. I had no idea I was going to be in for the kind of summer that I was. I wonder if Jeremy would even care I was here.

It didn't take long for us to sort out our bags, and Tristan had already been spotted by the paparazzi in the terminal. I was over this same feeling again.

Two big men came up to us, and they were followed with one guy that carried my bags for me.

"Turbo, Mae is going to have to leave separately to me," Tristan scowled to the guy with the beard, whose name was apparently 'Turbo'.

He nodded and pushed me towards a separate exit of the baggage claim without saying a word. I looked back at the guy who carried my bags, and he followed us swiftly as we left out the doors further up from the baggage claim.

Turbo walked ahead of me as the guy behind me carried my bags, and both of them made sure I walked fast or else.

We walked to the car park and Turbo quickly brought the car around. The guy behind me pushed me into the silver van, as he lugged my bags into the back seat. I dragged the door closed and strapped my seat belt in. This honestly felt like a secret agent case, and I was ready.

Turbo reversed swiftly out of the car park, and he drove out of the LAX airport.

"How's Tristan getting to us?" I asked nervously. The two big guys in the front seat stayed silent.

"Well. My name's Mae, um, I'm seventeen from Miami. How about you two? I mean I know your name is Turbo, but what about you Mr. Bag carrier?" I asked, stretching my seatbelt to its full capacity to talk to them from the backseat.

Both of them awkwardly stayed silent.

"We work for Mr. Dawson, my name is Moe, this is Turbo and we're taking you to where Mr. Dawson would like you to be."

"And where is that?" I asked, looking at Turbo in the mirror. Both men once again stayed silent, so I silently slipped back into my seat defeated.

The car ride felt as if it went on forever, and I managed to turn my phone back on so that it could gain service and that my messages would come through. I occasionally looked out the window – even though they were majorly blacked out – and took in the sights around me. It was three thirty on Saturday afternoon back in Miami, and my phone adjusted to the three house time difference.

So it was twelve thirty – and I had no idea where I was going.

The van eventually pulled up to a off road location, and I had no idea where we were. Both of them got out and I looked out the windows to the people walking around outside, who looked like workers of some sort.

I slid open the door and walked around the other side of the van, when I saw the massive building ahead of me.

Turbo and Moe took my bags into the entrance of the building, where a worker followed them out. I stood silently and waited to be told what to do.

"Miss Parker?" he asked me, before bowing. I smiled and nodded.

"That's me."

"We weren't expecting you this early, I apologize. Is there anything else you'd like to do before your room is ready?" he asked me.

"I'm not from here... I don't really know where else I could go."

Turbo stepped in front of the worker, and grabbed me by the arm.

"We can take her into the city for a few hours. How long does she have?"

"Preferably 6pm," he politely replied to Turbo. He acknowledged the time difference and we began walking back towards the van. Moe followed sharply on our heels. All three of us climbed into the van.

"Where's Tristan?" I asked.

"We aren't sure. Mitch was taking him to his hotel," Moe replied from the front seat.

"Are we staying in different hotels?" I asked.

"That's what Mr. Dawson requested," Turbo said as he quickly turned back onto the street. We made our way towards the city.

The ride wasn't too awkward as brief conversation was made. They occasionally asked me about life back in Miami but Tristan was never mentioned. I honestly just wanted to go back to bed.

I started my summer job at Stanford on Monday, and I was currently sleep deprived. This was not a good look.

Once we reached the main streets of Hollywood, we passed a familiar café.

Raw Bite.