Penville Botanical was a public garden just south of Westwood.
The rays of Californian springtime beamed down on me as I crossed the lawn, an abundance of picnic blankets scattered across the lush green. A lake glittered in the centre of the park, fenced in by a polished, black railing that stretched over a mile radius. Colourful paddle boats offered park-goers the opportunity to explore the aquatic landscape.
Beneath a canopy of weeping willows, a handful of park benches had been set up to overlook the multitude of passing joggers and strollers on the asphalt walkway. I headed toward the far right bench.
The flash of white teeth caught in the sun as Kendall Rose spotted me. Dark shades slid down his nose as he grinned. "Troye!"
"Kendall," I greeted, voice low. Sunglasses only hid so much. "It's nice to see you again."
It had been three weeks since our first meeting at Grimaldi's. Kendall's introduction into the company meant he'd had a significant presence around the office while the paperwork with his new agent was finalised. With all that charisma and poise, his regular appearances hadn't gone unnoticed.
Atwood & Ford Model Management had become rumour mill. Kendall Rose was the talk of town with everyone making the unsubtle effort to introduce themselves to him. His first day had ended in a harlequin mess of phone numbers and glamorous invitations to house parties.
Kendall wasn't the first model to make the transfer to a new agency but he already had years of enviable experience behind him. In a city as rich as Los Angeles with fashion culture, it was no surprise that a model of Kendall's status stirred up this much hype. Those with similar reputes tended to operate in the same social circles. It was like a gravitational pull, inevitable and unavoidable.
I'd seen Kendall around in no more than the fleeting hallway pass. My job wasn't acting as his agent but rather a friend to welcome him to the company. Claire thought it was a good match given our similar experiences in the field. We'd spoken on several separate occasions but this was the first time meeting alone since that day in the restaurant.
"The pleasure is mine." The French model swooped in to kiss me swiftly on both cheeks before gesturing to the bench. "Please, have a seat."
I sat down beside him. "I must say, I was a little surprised receiving your call."
"Why is that?"
Chuckling, I answered, "Because I'm the one who's supposed to be helping you integrate into L.A society, not the other way around. Shouldn't I be the one sending you invitations to lunch?"
Kendall waved his hand in dismissal, silver rings flashing in the sunlight. "You're a busy man, Troye. One can't expect to be graced with your presence at all hours of the day, no matter how greatly they desire it. Besides, you just got back from London."
"A month ago."
"Then lunch is the least I can do."
I laughed. "You're too kind."
Kendall smiled. "It's one of my many charms."
"What are the others?"
"Oh, we don't have enough time left in the day for that."
A smile crept onto my face as I looked across at Kendall. He sat poised with one knee resting atop the other, looking more like a marble statue than a man. "I appreciate the invitation, though it wasn't necessary."
Kendall flicked his hand. "It's no trouble at all. I've met many wonderful people since arriving here but you're the first I'd call a friend." He winked. "Figured I'd take advantage of it."
"I'm glad you did, actually." I answered. "Everything has been full-speed ahead since I got back from London and I haven't really had time to re-establish my social circles yet."
The corner of Kendall's lips tugged upwards into a devasting smile. It wasn't hard to see why photographers were so passionate about working with him. "It appears we're in the same boat then." He slid his shades off, blue eyes charged with anticipation as they settled on me. "Which is why I have a proposition."
"Do tell."
His eyes twinkled. "I've travelled all over the world, Troye. Many cities à voir. Milan, Paris, Rome, London, Madrid." He gestured with his hands. "They're all lavish with culture. Art, music, literature. Los Angeles can not be so different."
I laughed. "It's a diverse city, I agree, though I'm not sure how much of it we bring to the table."
Kendall's eyes shone. "I like to explore each city I visit. Learn its customs. The heritage. What makes this place stand out from the rest of the world."
"That's a lot of expectation you've placed upon yourself."
Kendall waved his hand dismissively. "Travelling is a passion, yes, but we learn so much when we're just willing to listen. Think of what the world would be if more people took the opportunity to learn other's stories without trying to write over them with their own experiences. It would certainly nurture more compassion."
His answer took me by surprise, though it shouldn't have. From the day I'd met him, Kendall had struck me as a man with wisdom beyond his years. It was haunting as it was captivating.
"How humanitarian of you." I told him, smiling softly. For someone so young, his candour was refreshing. Very little people could possess such an enthralling energy without arrogance but Kendall carried it flawlessly.
"So, you see," Kendall stood, offering his hand to me. "I simply cannot live in a place I know nothing about. Neither can you."
I barked out a laugh. "I grew up in California. I'm pretty sure I know the city."
"Ah," Kendall raised a brow. "But it has been four years since you've lived here. Does this city still know you?"
My mouth opened to answer but before I could, visions bloomed in my memory. Family birthdays at Elysian Park. Basketball games with my father at Staples Center. Challenging Aria's acrophobia on the Pacific Wheel along the Santa Monica pier. A young boy staring into the face of bright lights with skyscrapers at his feet.
Those memories had always been filled with so much warmth and color and depth. So, when had they all faded to grey?
The impact as realisation hit me was devastating and my mouth fell closed again. My silence must have given Kendall his answer because a moment later he nodded. "I say we seize this moment."
"How?"
"By going out and re-discovering ourselves. Finding out who we are in the big city."
I chuckled. "I didn't take you for the soul-searcher type."
He grinned. "Call me spontaneous. Now, let's go."
By the time I realised he was serious, my eyes were wide and back rigid as I sat up. "Wait a minute. Go? Go where?"
Kendall cocked his head, as though he couldn't understand why I wasn't keeping up with his sudden revelation of escapades. "To explore the city, of course. I booked the whole day."
"I thought we were just getting lunch. I've got a meeting with my agent in an hour."
He shook his head. "All of your afternoon appointments have been cancelled."
"Oh?" I stood slowly, "and how did you manage that?"
He didn't even bother to try and hide it. "One phone call can go many ways, especially when you're in conversation with people who care deeply for you. Now, are you coming?"
I bit my lip and weighed my options. Regardless of my cancelled meetings, I still had a job and couldn't just play hooky whenever I wanted. I'd only just returned to the company. There were shoots to book, my brand deal to promote, paperwork to file. What would it look like if I took a day off so immediately?
As it turned out, my mind had already been made up for me. Kendall waited patiently but his tone was definitive. "You promised to find me a reason to stay."
I sighed. "Yes, but it didn't come with the condition that you'd drag me away from mine."
"Spontaneous adventure is how you find purpose."
"Shouldn't I be the one taking you on a tour then?"
"Join me and I won't notice the difference."
He grinned then, knowing he'd trapped me neatly.
I sighed. "Alright, fine. You win. I guess this could technically be considered a professional courtesy."
"That's the spirit!" Kendall cheered, and then, without another word, turned on his heel and strode toward the parking lot.
I ran after him. He moved like smoke, gliding over the grass with barely a glance at each passerby. He was halfway across the lawn by the time I fell into step beside him. We walked in comfortable silence.
Without realising it, I'd been walking with a mindless eye toward any ordinary looking car. A black SUV or worn sedan; something that blended in on the road.
"Troye." Kendall called from behind me.
I turned, face flushed. "Sorry. I guess I didn't realise where I was-"
Whatever I had been expecting, it certainly wasn't the shiny red convertible with custom plates before me now.
"This is your car?" I asked in disbelief, staring down at the crimson beast. Sunlight reflected off the polished hood and I was suddenly grateful for my shades.
Kendall laughed. One hand rested easily on the roof. "You sound surprised."
"Because I am." Between the European tires and Audi insignia gleaming on the hood, it was bewildering that Kendall chose to drive something so recognisable.
Kendall hummed in amusement. "What is the saying you Americans are so fond of? Go big or go home? I chose the former."
He spoke so profoundly of something so pretentious that I couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, fair. I'll give you that one."
"Now that that's settled, are you just going to stand with your mouth agape or actually get in?"
"My car is two rows down."
"We can pick it up later."
"Your windows aren't tinted."
"No one is looking that closely."
"I need to be at-"
"Troye."
Kendall's arms were folded over the roof of the car as he watched me. "If you're looking for an excuse, all you have to say is no."
His words had me snapping my mouth shut for reasons I didn't want to think about. Regardless of the fact that the convertible would stand out like a knife among spoons, I was trying not to overthink the situation.
I'd been back in California for a month now but this was the first time I was really doing anything outside of work. Even if there was no logical reason I couldn't go have lunch with a new friend, a part of me was torn in the other direction.
A long time ago I'd made the decision to take things slowly. My teen years were spent diving into opportunities and kicking the pedal full throttle. Returning to California was supposed to be more than a change of location. It was a change of pace.
If my time in London had taught me anything, it was that some things were beyond my control. Letting go was hard but holding on was like twisting a knife into my back. After a while, the pain became tolerable but it didn't mean the wound could seal.
But that was the old me. This new version of myself I'd carved out in London didn't want to repeat past mistakes so I had to approach my future with a steadier foot. Overthinking was something I was an expert in but I couldn't afford to be anymore. Not while it kept me rooted in place when I was finally ready to take a new step.
Still, I knew I was being ridiculous. Lunch didn't have to lead to dinner. One afternoon could be spent without the promise of a night. If I'd grown at all over the past four years then this shouldn't have been a problem.
That was enough to sway my decision. With a burst of audaciousness I didn't know I had, I opened the car door and climbed in. The seatbelt snapped into place with a resounding click and I stared straight ahead.
Kendall huffed out a laugh before following on his side. His door closed and I tried not to think of all the ways my breathing could short out in this closed space between us.
"Sorry." I said when Kendall was slipping the key into the ignition. "This isn't something I do often. I guess I'm not used to people being so..."
"Forward?"
"Generous."
Kendall turned a stunned gaze on me. "You're Troye Evans."
My eyes dropped to my lap. "I don't think that means what you think it does."
"What does it meant to you?"
Isla's words from my psychiatrist appointment came rushing back to me. They were informative and educated but it wasn't enough to start a new friendship by hiding the parts of yourself you were sure about. Truth could never be concealed entirely.
There were a lot of answers I could've given Kendall but in the end, I said, "I don't know. I'm not sure it means anything, really."
"I doubt that sincerely." Kendall turned back to the wheel. With a twist of his hand, the engine flared to life beneath his touch with a thunderous roar. Heads turned in our direction.
I let out a laugh. "You really have no shame."
"What is there to be ashamed of?"
"You're not worried about people recognising you?"
Backing the Audi out of its parking space, we were entering the flow of Los Angeles traffic within moments. Kendall's grin was blinding. "And if they do?"
My thoughts instantly drifted back to the few times I'd been caught up in the public eye. The media loved to print my name with all sorts of connotations but the real horror lay in people's entitlement of how to treat someone different to them.
Aria had always been the one to bare the brunt of the Evans name. She was arguably more present in the global spotlight which made her the target of mass media empires for reasons both good and bad. She'd never done anything incriminating, but it didn't stop journalists from selling tales based on speculation.
My sister had been the victim of indifference since she was a teenager. She'd had her car chased, fans try and break into her home, been called every name under the sun because she tried to raise awareness for issues the media silenced.
I wasn't known to the world the same way Aria was, but sharing a name and being raised by two parents famous in their own right had brought my own share of condemnation to my doorstep.
These days, venturing two blocks from home without getting hounded by masses of people holding cameras was what I considered a win. Driving to a shoot and making it past the sidewalk without a microphone shoved in my face was a rare luxury. My agent and publicist dealt with the security for such events but no matter how many protection details surrounded me, it never stopped the anxiety that crept through my blood and rattled my heart.
The constant third-eye scrutiny had been my reality for a long time but that didn't mean it was the epitome of a worthwhile life.
Kendall and I hadn't stayed at the park long enough for anyone to catch on but the way he was driving now, resplendent and not the least bit inconspicuous, had me sinking lower in my seat.
"I guess it's just easier to blend into the crowd sometimes." I admitted, answering Kendall's question.
"You know, Troye." Kendall flipped his sun visor down. One hand rested gently on the gear stick while the other balanced delicately on the wheel. He looked to me, and there was nothing but kindness in his eyes. "I think sometimes we worry too much about what others think of us instead of ourselves. Perfection is overrated but to live in someone else's definition of it is the greatest dishonour to oneself, wouldn't you agree?"
And to that, I had no answer.
***
For living in town less than a month, Kendall was well versed on the hidden gems of Los Angeles.
Our first stop was a vegan restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner street of Oakwood. I learnt quickly that Kendall had been vegan since he was seventeen and wrote a research paper in high school about the farming habits of livestock. He was passionate about advocating for animal rights and attended many events in Chicago before moving here, where he planned to participate in more.
My experience in veganism was minimal but I welcomed the experience. When Kendall raised the proposition of attending a few city events together - apparently he had notifications on his phone for these things - I surprised even myself by how quickly I'd jumped on the opportunity to agree.
From there, it was onto a shelter that catered strictly to rescue animals. The goal was to provide each rescue with love and affection not only from the staff who worked there, but the public who came in to visit and potentially adopt one of them.
I hadn't owned a pet since I was a kid but became instantly smitten with a black rag doll who kept brushing his head against my leg and meowing softly.
"He's new," one of their staff told me, smiling at the cat in my arms. "He was living in an abandoned garage when our team found him. We haven't named him yet."
"A garage, hey?" I chuckled, gazing down at the cat in my arms. Round, green eyes stared back at me. "Poor little thing was probably the colour of soot when they found him."
Kendall was smiling at the two of us. He laughed when I started to tickle the feline behind his ears and he purred happily. "You should adopt him. He loves you."
"He's gorgeous." I cooed at the kitten before looking back up at Kendall, "but I don't think I'm in a place to own a cat right now."
"Moving back from across the world will do that to you."
I could only nod, a small voice in the back of my head telling me to focus on building one stable relationship at a time.
My heart ached as we left the shelter but I knew it was for the best. That rag doll was a sweetheart. He would find a loving home in no time.
"Where to now?" I asked as we climbed back into Kendall's convertible. Bright sunshine beamed down on us as Kendall lowered the car's roof.
"That's a surprise."
"This whole day has been a series of surprises."
"So, I guess one more won't kill you then."
I laughed and leaned back against the head rest, letting Kendall take the lead onto our next adventure.
Our third and final stop for the day was an art gallery near Studio City that was hosting an exhibition paying tribute to the works of Claude Monet.
The work day saw the gallery filled mostly with elderly couples and tourists. Soft string music played through an overhead speaker and the light varied depending on which art the room was showcasing. Kendall and I paid for our tickets and began our journey through the series of connecting rooms.
"How did you find this place?" I asked, stopping to glimpse at the impressive depiction of a waterlily pond. "Even for LA, this is pretty extensive."
"It helps if you know what you're looking for." Kendall answered, admiring the painting beside me. "The internet can be a wonderful resource but I also collect books that report on the most cultural areas of specific cities."
"Do you do that for every place you visit?"
"Time to sight-see was scarce while I was modelling in Australia and Italy. Fortunately, my mother is just as passionate about culture as I and would take me on trips around France in my youth. I'd like to see more of Europe but America has its intrigues."
We walked slowly through the room, moving from one piece of art to the next. To my right, an older couple were chatting animatedly about a garden landscape, rich in textures of green and blue.
I nodded to Kendall. "London was like that for me. In every corner of the city there is a piece of history waiting to be told."
"London is a beautiful place," Kendall agreed. "I'm surprised you wanted to leave."
The silence that fell over us briefly was undeniable. I finally said, "My time there was wonderful. I learnt a lot of things working under Charles, but it was time to come home."
"And may I ask why?"
I sighed, eyes falling over a sail boat painting. "It's complicated."
"I have time." Kendall smiled gently.
I returned his expression. "Maybe some other time."
The other model accepted that without argument, for which I was grateful. Outside of my family, it was an uncommon occurrence to hold a conversation with people who didn't want to pry into my private life, but Kendall did it without question. My heart jumped in my chest at the thought.
"Alright, I don't know about you," Kendall said a moment later, breaking the silence, "but I think this is where the impression for Homer Simpson went all wrong."
My eyes fell on the painting before us and I couldn't stop the laugh erupting from me a moment later. "Oh my God! I think you're right."
The art was a portrait of a woman but each side of her face saw drastic changes in colour. The right side was a soft lilac before colliding with an aggressive yellow on the left. The brushstrokes only made the vivid colour that more intense to look at.
"Either that or American cheese has a whole different function we didn't know about." Kendall added, face completely neutral.
I burst out laughing again, hand falling on Kendall's shoulder as I turned into him to hide the sound. The other model grinned, despite the stares we were receiving.
"Dude, stop," I coughed before grinning again. "They would've paid a fortune for this collection. It's historical."
"Don't know why," Kendall gazed at the portrait, perplexed. "I feel like they could've really saved their money with a few mustard packets and a spray gun. You know, the professional way."
That set me off again. We were receiving more glares by the minute. A security guard's head snapped up in our direction, looking to see where the commotion was coming from but I found myself too caught up in the moment to care.
"I think that's our cue to leave." Kendall smirked, noticing the looks.
"We haven't done a full circuit around the gallery yet."
"It appears we've overstayed our welcome. I doubt it'll be the last time."
We were still laughing as we descended the steps outside. Sunlight glinted off Kendall's keys as he pulled them from his pocket. We headed in the direction of the parking lot.
"I'm sorry I ruined Part Three of the surprise." I said with the last shreds of humour. "If I'd known you would bring the wrath of ten elderly women down on us, I might've considered that non-refundable ticket a little more wisely."
"It's not you." Kendall said before smirking at me. "I draw attention everywhere I go. I can't help it. Sorry."
"It appears so." I chuckled. "Do you always make fun of priceless art?"
"Sometimes it's affordable."
I shook my head fondly as we neared Kendall's convertible. Before the other man could step around to his side, I reached out for his arm and pulled him to a stop. Kendall turned, raising an eyebrow at me. "Troye?"
"Thankyou for today." I said honestly. "Even if it didn't all go according to plan, I definitely needed it."
"I'm glad." Kendall replied. "Maybe we could do this again sometime, then?"
I smiled at him, nodding. "I think so too."
A flash to the far right caught both our attention. I turned my head and my blood ran cold when a man holding a camera stood on the far corner of the parking lot. His phone was pressed against his ear and he was speaking rapidly into it, his other hand poised on the camera.
"Merde," Kendall swore under his breath.
"We gotta go." I said. A news van was quickly approaching on the main road and more would only follow. "We have to go now."
"Yes," Kendall agreed, hightailing around his side of the car. "Get in."
We climbed into the car at the same time, seatbelts clicking in synchrony. Kendall wasted no time igniting the engine and soon enough, we were peeling out of the parking lot onto the main road.
"Bon sang!" Kendall exclaimed. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. "I'm sorry, Troye. I thought the gallery was discreet enough that no one would care."
"It's not your fault." I told him but my heart was still thumping wildly in my chest.
Kendall drove us back to the park to pick up my car. When it was clear we hadn't been followed, I breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thankyou. I know it's stupid but I really hate them following me around."
Kendall shook his head. "It's not stupid to wish for someone not to invade your privacy."
"I had a really great day." I told him. "Next time, it's my turn to chauffeur you around town."
"So, there's going to be a next time?" Kendall's eyes twinkled with a flash of teeth.
"I'm not very good at making friends." I said honestly, "but I'd like to try."
I'd like to try something new. Just please don't let it break me in the end.
"Well, in that case, consider me at your service." Kendall smiled.
I climbed out of the car and made to walk away but stopped when Kendall called out my name through the open window.
"For what it's worth," he called, "I think you're better at making friends than you give yourself credit for. Just don't be afraid to let someone in."
I smiled then, because after only one afternoon, Kendall had managed to see what most people fell short of. Something he could acknowledge, but didn't push to fix.
And I thought maybe I could get used to that.
***
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