"You smell like home..."
– Nautica
❀❀❀
~ D O R O T H Y ~
April 1998
Nerves. I've got the nerves.
I take a deep, yet shaky, breath in as I pace up and down the girl's toilets, hiding from the berserk Rachel Barns.
Why?
Well, you see...
It's finally the day of the play.
Which means that Rachel is micromanaging everything and everyone – to the point that even I found it overbearing. I mean, I get that she is a perfectionist – and it's not a bad thing to be one – but getting my hairstyle and make-up changed six and eight times, respectively, is not great.
Gosh, my scalp still aches from all the brushing and the tugging.
And when she mentioned that at least five hundred people are in the auditorium, plus Lucas Wright and his film crew, I fled for my life.
She's probably looking for me right now, rampaging through the entire campus. But I don't care. I've decided that I'm not going back until I calm down.
Wearing a white robe and slippers, I lean against the wall, with my mind bombarded with a million of embarrassing scenarios that can possibly happen during the play.
What if I forget my lines?
What if I fall over something by accident?
What if I forget to breathe?
My mind then drifts to Reece.
Is he nervous, given that he barely had a week to memorise the lines and dance moves?
If I were him, I would be.
...But then, knowing Reece, it would be unusual if he was nervous. I mean, the guy's aura reeks of confidence.
And goodness, he must have some sort of photographic memory or something because he learnt his lines insanely fast!
"Dorothy," Jenny calls me, catching my attention.
I whip myself around to face my dear friend, who is wearing a black dress that reaches down to her knees and black heels. She stands at the doorway, with her soft, ebony hair twirled into an intricate bun. She wears no glasses, most probably wearing contacts instead.
"Gosh, you look pale!" she points out, walking towards me until she holds onto my hands, concern clearly evident in her eyes. "Are you alright?"
"I'm nervous," I reveal.
"Don't be," she says, resting her hand on my arm to appease me. "You'll be amazing!"
"I feel like I'm going to puke any second–"
"Remember when you sang at Escape? You were so nervous. But after you started, you got over it and sang like... Like it was your world, Dorothy. And we were just living in it."
"But there are over five hundred people–"
"Who will leave this place absolutely bedazzled by you."
"We'll be videotaped–"
"To preserve your brilliant performance for future generations to watch."
"And Lucas Wright–"
"Will have no choice but to offer you a role in his film."
There is then a pause of silence, during which I blink while she smiles.
"Goodness, you really do believe in me, don't you?" I say in disbelief.
"Well, what kind of a best friend would I be if I didn't, huh?"
She is the absolute sweetest thing to ever exist.
I hug her.
"Thank you," I breathe out, feeling much, much better. "For being there for me."
She returns my hug with a tighter one.
"Of course. Just like how you are there for me, I'm here for you, Dorothy. Always."
***
Just when I am about to enter the girl's dressing room with Jenny, someone grabs onto my arm. Startled, I turn to my right and immediately smile when I see Reece. He is still wearing Hampton's uniform.
"You haven't changed yet?" I say.
"I will, but can I steal you for a bit?" he asks.
I look at Jenny. She nods and shoots me a smile, signalling that she will see me later, before she walks into the dressing room. I then allow Reece to pull me away to some place secluded, some place out of earshot.
"Is everything alright, Reece?" I ask him.
He halts, before he turns around to face me. I frown when I notice that his hair is messy, as if he had run his hands through them a dozen times. He doesn't look too relaxed either.
"Are you nervous about the play?" I ask him. "Because I was too, and it's completely normal to feel that way–"
"What do you think of Anchor?" he asks, catching me off-guard.
"Huh?" I say, confused.
"You thought it was a bit intense. Toxic, even."
"I did," I say, not understanding where he is going with this.
He tucks a rogue strand of my hair behind my ear, lost in my eyes.
"But now that you've read it many times," he says. "What is your opinion on it now?"
"Why are you asking me this–"
"Because I want to know if that sort of love still freaks you out," he says.
He still remembers our conversation about the book from months ago. But I didn't think he'd take my views about love to heart at the time. I mean, those views were expressed at a time when I was not in love – when I used to believe that the whole concept of love is just an exaggeration.
But now, as I stare at his beautiful brown eyes, I realise that my views on love are absolutely different. As I try to find the right words to answer his question, Reece watches me anxiously.
"It's..." I begin. "It's everything I feel. But only towards you."
He blinks, taken aback by my reply, before he regains his composure.
"Really?" he asks, a bit doubtful.
"Really," I say firmly.
He then holds my hands.
"So if I say that I don't just love you, but that I live for you, what would you do?"
The way he is holding my hands – how firm the grip is – gives me the impression that he is wary of my reaction, perhaps anticipating that I may run away.
Gosh, what do I have to do to knock some sense into his head – that I will not run away.
I break my hands free from his grip, confusing him, before I hold onto his hands and watch him straight in the eye.
"I'd say that you should live a long time," I begin. "Because I live for you too."
In an instant, all the stress and tension etched in his features melts away, paving way for surprise and relief.
"You mean it?" he says, wide-eyed.
"More than anything, Reece."
He untangles his hands from mine, drops them down to my hips and pulls me closer to him.
"Because you and me," he whispers. "I know that we're a forever sort of thing. You are my beautiful moon. I will love you when you are full. I will love you when you are not full. I will love you like you are everything I have ever wanted from this life. And the life after this. And the life after that. Forever."
"Gosh, you love me so much," I croak, looking at him in awe, wonder, and affection, teary-eyed.
"If thousands of others love you, their love will amount to only a drop compared to my ocean of love for you," he says, serious. "And that's just an understatement."
"Well, if thousands – billions – were to love me, I would always choose you – and only you – to love."
Smiling widely, he envelopes me in a big hug, lifting me off of my feet for a bit.
"I will never let you go, Dorothy Sherman," he says into my hair. "Never."
"I wouldn't let you anyway," I add, making him chuckle softly.
He lets me go and takes a good look at me. With his fingers, he wipes the wetness from my cheeks, and that's when realisation hits me.
"Geez, you made me ruin my make-up," I blurt out.
"You look better without it anyway," he says, grinning.
I playfully smack his chest, feigning my annoyance at his words, before he leans down and captures my lips with his own. Soft, gentle and sweet. Slowly, he pushes me back until my back hits the wall, continuing to kiss me. I wrap my arms around his neck as he runs his hand from my hip to my thigh. Until suddenly, he breaks our kiss, resting his forehead against mine.
"I need to tell you something about me," he whispers, panting. "And... to be honest, I'm not sure what your reaction will be. But... I trust you enough to tell you. If what I think is really true, you will not run away. You will not leave me."
"You're going to tell me the truth?" I say, shocked, yet elated that he feels ready to reveal his secret.
"Not now. You need to stay focused for the next couple of hours. Once the play is over, I... I'll take you away with me and show you the other side of my world."
He watches my eyes with so much intensity, that I find myself losing the will to maintain our eye contact. But alas, I try to stay strong, and show him that I am strong – that I can take whatever his secret is.
"Then, I'll be happy to be taken away," I say, sending him a small smile.
He kisses my lips one more time, before he pecks my nose, my cheeks and, finally, my forehead. Then, he holds onto my hand and escorts me back to the girl's dressing room.
***
"Dorothy!" Rachel yells from the doorway. "We are up in ten minutes!"
"Coming!" I say, standing up from my seat.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror for the last time: I wear a long, full-sleeved white dress with delicate embroidery at the rims and the sleeves and pair of white two-inch heels. My hair is in a low chignon, with small, white flowers embedded in. My make-up is light, with a touch of blush on my cheeks, mascara and light pink lipstick.
Content with the way I look, I put on a robe again and head outside of the room, following Rachel, who is wearing a black suit, much to Nolan's dismay. Speaking of Nolan, I wonder what his situation is with Rachel. I have been so busy with helping Reece with his lines and dance sequence that I forgot to investigate what is currently going on between the two.
Eh, I'll try to figure it out after the play – or rather, after Reece reveals his secret.
We reach backstage, where so many students clad in costumes surround us as they assemble themselves for the play. Nolan is sitting in the pit with the other musicians, wearing a button dress shirt, black tie and black waistcoat. He looks handsome, no doubt. A grand piano sits in front of him.
"Dorothy!" Jenny calls out, snaking her way through the crowd towards me.
"Yes, Jenny?" I ask, when she stands in front of me.
"We made a last-minute change."
"What is it?"
"We will end the show with Reece saying this beautiful quote from Lucas Wright's second book, Hiraeth," she informs, before she clears her throat. "'If beauty were time, she'd be eternity'."
I frown...
Why does that sound so familiar...?
Wait...
When Reece was drunk...
Back at Damien's place...
And damn, if beauty were time, you'd be eternity.
Huh...
"Ok, we're almost on," Rachel says, interrupting my train of thought.
The Principal of Hampton, Mrs Houghton, stands in position behind the curtains. Rachel dashes to the spot next to her and composes herself. Suddenly, the curtains draw open and a very bright spotlight shines on them.
"Good afternoon, everyone," Mrs Houghton greets the audience. "Thank you very much for gathering today to watch the play. The play is based on the highly acclaimed book, Anchor. I am absolutely delighted and honoured to have here with us the author of the book himself, Mr Lucas Wright."
The audience claps very loudly, some even blow whistles and scream 'I love you!' at the mention of the author's name. Being backstage, I cannot glance at the audience too well, so I do not know where Lucas Wright is sitting or what he looks like.
"Thank you ever so much for accepting our invitation, Mr. Wright. I shall now leave and let the play commence!"
Another round of applause ensues before Rachel dashes towards the pit where she will be playing the violin. On the opposite side of my backstage, Reece stands straight, wearing black pants and a plain shirt. He watches me, sending me a comforting smile before he mouths 'I love you'.
Grinning, all the nervousness within me suddenly dissipates. I now realise that I should try my best to enjoy each and every single millisecond of this moment – of our moment. When I'm with Reece, my whole world shrinks to the point that Reece becomes it.
Taking a deep breath in, I slowly remove my robe. Reece watches my each and every move. When the robe falls onto the floor, he immediately becomes stunned, with his eyes glued to me as if I am the centre of his universe, as if I am everything that he desires moulded into one being – me.
'I love you too' I mouth back, making him smile.
Then, two spotlights shine to the left and right sides of the stage, near Reece and I, respectively, signalling that the play has now commenced. Without breaking eye contact, Reece and I simultaneously step out of the backstage.
And we begin.
***
The whole audience bursts into a booming cheer. Applauses are heard from all corners of the massive auditorium and linger on for a couple of minutes. The whole cast, including myself and Reece, stand on the stage in a line, holding hands. All of us bow our heads in respect and gratitude at the audience's ebullience.
Then, the curtains close, but the cheers continue to be heard. I look up at Reece, who is standing next to me, and show him my widest smile.
"We did it," I squeal, before I jump up and down.
Chuckling, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to him.
"You look so beautiful," he says. "It was so painful not being able to tell you the moment I saw you wearing this dress."
"Well, you told me now."
"And I finally feel that the load is off my chest."
"Ok, lovebirds, let go of each other. It's time to meet Lucas Wright," Jenny says, resting her hands on her hips, impatient.
Chuckling, Reece lets me go.
"Right. You girls go ahead. I'll join you in a bit," he says.
Before I can ask why, Jenny grabs my arm and pulls me away, eager to meet Lucas Wright.
***
Rachel, Jenny, Nolan and I are sitting on chairs in Mrs Houghton's spacious office. The table in front of us has drinks and finger foods.
Apparently, Lucas Wright has requested to meet the organisers of the play in private, and Mrs Houghton has asked the four of us to wait in her office. I am not too entirely sure how Nolan ended up here too. Given that he became a member of the club before the auditions, I guess Mrs Houghton assumed that he contributed to the play as much as each of the three of us have.
Which is not the actual case.
But oh well.
Right now, Nolan is waving his hands in front of Rachel's face in an attempt to catch her attention. But alas, she is unfazed by his gestures, continuing to read Hampton's magazine.
"Barnssss," Nolan whines. "Why are you ignoring meee?"
She does not say anything. Sighing, he gets up and crouches down in front of her. He snatches her magazine and tosses it to the other side of the room.
"What do you want?" she snaps, glaring at him.
"You," he replies nonchalantly, making her roll her eyes.
"You cannot have me."
"Yet."
"Ever!"
Then, he grabs onto one of her hands and places it over the left side of his chest, just over his black waistcoat. Rachel tries to pull her hand away but he keeps it firmly against his chest.
"Believe it or not, I used to be a very timid child," he begins to tell her. "I was put into piano lessons when I was five. I had to perform in front of many people, but I would always be scared and never be able to complete a whole piece without crying."
"Well, what do you know, the devil is capable of crying," she drawls.
"Hey, I'll have you know that I have been called an angel many times."
"So was Lucifer," she mutters under her breath.
Nolan shakes his head, thinking it would be best to not retaliate.
"Long story short," he sighs, continuing with his story. "My piano instructor suggested I should keep someone who I hold very dear close to my heart. Barns, unbutton my waistcoat–"
"WHAT ARE YOU SAYI–"
"For goodness sake, fine! I'll unbutton it for you," he says, beginning to unbutton.
"I do NOT want to see you getting undressed–"
"Just look!" he snaps, revealing the inside of the left side of his waistcoat.
There, in white, two letters are embroidered on it.
RB.
"RB?" Rachel reads out loud.
"I kept you close to my heart, Barns," Nolan says, with his eyes pouring affection. "I was actually very nervous today. I never performed in a crowd so big before. I knew that I couldn't keep you near me, so I thought maybe if I could have your initials over my heart, it could keep me calm. And guess what? It worked."
Touched, I look at Jenny, who has her hand over the left side of her chest. She and I share a look, one that shows how absolutely adorable we find Nolan to be. She and I then refocus our attention on the two. Rachel's eyes are still glued onto the initials, as if she is dumbstruck.
Then, at the worst moment possible, the door opens and the tension in the air disappears. Rachel snaps back into reality and quickly pulls Nolan up and pushes him back to his seat.
The four of us then stand up when a very tall, brawny man emerges in the room. He has a buzz cut and a scar that stretches from the corner of his lips to the bottom of his chin. He takes one scan of the entire room briefly before he turns around and leaves the room, revealing a much shorter – still tall nevertheless – and less brawny figure.
When the figure lifts his head up, my eyes widen.
The first thing I notice about his face is that it is masked. He wears a black mask and a pair of large, rectangular, black-rimmed glasses. A black cap sits on his head, casting a shadow over his eyes.
He approaches Rachel first.
"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you," he says, extending his hand out to shake Rachel's hand.
Rachel looks up at him. The second her eyes connect his...
She faints.
Nolan catches her just before her body gets the chance to make contact with the floor.
"Barns!" he says loudly, panicked. "Nurse! I need to take her to the nurse!"
Before any one of us can react, he picks her up in a bridal style before he dashes out of the room.
There was a moment of silence, before Lucas breaks it.
"Well that isn't the first time," he says, softly chuckling, before he approaches Jenny. "You must be Jenny."
"I am, yes. It is an absolute honour to meet you, Mr Wright," she says, trying her best not to burst into total euphoria.
He shakes hands with her.
"Call me Lucas," he says.
"Oh my gosh!" she squeals, before she composes herself quickly. "Ok, ok. Lucas. I'm a huge fan. I've read all of your books, listened to all of your talks. Heck – I've collected all of your pieces from different magazines."
"Well, I'm always flattered to meet such a dedicated fan."
I can sense that Jenny is resisting the urge to squeal.
"You know, your voice is a lot deeper than I thought. Maybe it's because I'm hearing you speak in-person?"
"Oh, no no. I have a cold."
I don't understand why, but the word cold catches me off-guard.
He has a cold?
Why is my brain so fixated on that?
"And yet you still came?" she gasps, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Wow, thank you so much."
"Oh not at all. Watching the play truly raised my spirits and brought me inspiration."
"That is very kind of you to say."
"I hear that you are a musical mastermind."
"Oh, I wouldn't call myself a mastermind."
"I beg to differ. The play's music is brilliant. I was thinking of incorporating some of your music into the film, if that is alright with you, of course?"
Immediately, the saucer-eyed Jenny squeals.
"REALLY?!"
"Of course. Fans like you brought me this far. The least I could do is give you the chance to play a role in the film."
Then, Lucas approaches me.
"Dorothy, is it?" he asks.
"Yes."
He shakes my hand.
"Your voice is beautiful, as if it belongs to an angel – perfect for Aspen's role."
"Thank you," I say, scrutinising his mask.
I find it strange how his mask resembles the one found in Reece's car...
Or maybe it's just my brain messing with me.
Mrs Houghton, who is standing behind Lucas, ushers all of us to take a seat.
"Please help yourself to refreshments," she adds, gesturing to the drinks and finger foods on the table.
"Thank you," Lucas says.
"So what inspired you to write Anchor?" Jenny asks. "I recall from an interview that you mentioned that it is based on a true story."
"Yes," he replies. "There was a young boy who I knew at a personal level. I have never seen anyone as much as in love as he was."
"In the book, the ending was heartbreaking. Did the boy you knew have a similar sort of ending?"
"No," he says, smiling. "You see, his greatest fear was to be forgotten by a person who he could never forget. But now, well... he fears that spending a whole lifetime with her may not be enough."
Jenny laughs softly.
"That is beautiful," she comments. "Absolutely beautiful. I'm glad that he gets to have a happy ending after all."
"I am too."
"Oh, I wonder where Reece is," Mrs Houghton says. "I will be back in a moment, but please continue without me."
She then exits the room, shutting the door behind her, and Jenny and Lucas continue to chat about his works and the upcoming film. After about ten minutes, there is a pause of silence, during which Jenny eyes the food.
"There is plenty of food here. Would your bodyguard like some?" she asks.
"Well, you can try to offer him, but let me warn you that Chris doesn't eat or drink anything on duty. I tried to persuade him many times, but he's just very adamant about it."
"I'll give it a go," she says, before she picks up a plate and leaves the room.
Then, something strikes in my head.
...Chris?
Did he just say Chris?
Chris...
And why the hell is Chris not with you?
Fine, but I'm leaving Chris...
As Dave's voice from back at St Anne's plays in my mind, I slowly start to connect the dots.
There was a young boy who I knew at a personal level. I have never seen anyone as much as in love as he was.
...his greatest fear was to be forgotten by a person who he could never forget. But now, well... he fears that spending a whole lifetime with her may not be enough.
Could it be...
That the boy who Lucas Wright knew is...
Reece?
That does sound rather familiar, to be honest...
Wait...
Are Colton and Aspen based on Reece and... me?
...Oh.
...My.
...Gosh.
No... Impossible. What Colton experienced... How he was suicidal...
No... Maybe I got this all wrong.
I mean, perhaps the boy was not Reece...
But now that I think of it...
The way Colton felt about Aspen...
The way he loved her...
Their beautiful relationship...
No... No...
Gosh, I must be so tired or something because clearly I'm getting too ahead of myself.
But the voices in my head refuse to shut up.
Tell Daniel to cover for me.
Daniel is not you, and there is only so long that you can suffer from a 'cold'.
...'cold'.
Chris...
Daniel...
"...Daniel?" I find myself whispering with a pounding heart.
I quickly look up at Lucas' masked face and, for an ephemeral moment, I catch his eyes widening.
Or perhaps that's just my imagination.
My chest begins to feel heavy as realisation suddenly dawns on me.
Tell Daniel to cover for me.
Daniel is not you, and there is only so long that you can suffer from a 'cold'.
You know, your voice is a lot deeper than I thought. Maybe it's because I'm hearing you speak in-person?
Oh, no no. I have a cold.
"You're Daniel, aren't you?" I say.
From the way his brown eyes are narrowed, I can tell that he is not happy.
Brown eyes...
Brown eyes...
Of course...
He immediately clears his throat.
"I don't know what you're talking about–"
"...You are Daniel," I say, louder and more firmly this time.
"Dorothy," he says, more roughly. "I particularly do not like it when someone tries to make assumptions about my true identity–"
I suddenly stand up, starting to feel a bit dizzy. Gosh, with so much running through my mind and the waves of insurmountable feelings washing over me, I am rather surprised that I haven't fallen over.
"All this time..." I say in a trembling tone, with my vision becoming blurry.
I've been researching on the storyline of Anchor in so much depth that it barely crossed my mind to research the author...
"N-Now Dorothy, you need to calm down and think rationally–"
"I am thinking rationally!"
"Look, if you spread this rumour – which is false, by the way – it will... It will not be g-good for me–"
"If I am wrong," I snap. "If you really are not Daniel, then why do you sound so panicked?"
"Dorothy, please–"
The door opens. Slowly, my line of sight shifts from the fake Lucas and lands on a pair of brown eyes that belong to Reece Walker.
Of course...
It all makes sense now.
His love for English.
His wonderfully beautiful way with words.
How he learnt his lines so easily.
How he resembles Colton.
How his amorous feelings towards me are similar to Colton's feelings towards Aspen.
I walk towards Reece, hoping that my shaky legs do not give out. When I stand in front of him, I grab onto his hand, making him frown in confusion.
"We're leaving," I tell him, leaving the room and pulling him with me.
"What do you mean?" Reece says, allowing me to drag him out.
"You said that you'll take me away once the play is over," I remind him.
"I did, yes. But that can wait," he says. "We can't leave Lucas just yet."
I stop, and so does he. I stare at our intertwined hands, taking a deep breath in to calm myself down. Annoyingly, however, it doesn't seem to work.
"How can I be leaving him," I begin, before my eyes meet his. "When he's the one who's taking me away?"
*~*~*~*~*
FINALLYYYYYYYY!
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