The Sound - The 1975
Long time no see right? So a while back I did this bonus chapter thing on my newsletter. Recently, I've been thinking about writing a new bonus chapter from one of my stories (not sure which one yet) and I thought about this one and the one from Finding Ava. I realized that its unfair that some of you didn't get to read this. So for those who couldn't, here you are! Hope you enjoy it!
Chloe.
***
"Life without you isn't worth living," I tell her, staring deeply into her sea blue eyes. She sucks in a breath, searching my eyes for dishonesty. "I need you and you need me. We are two peas in a pod."
And then she moves closer and presses her lips against mine. My heart constricts at the erotic feeling. All too quickly she pulls away.
"And cut." The director announces and we both step apart. Whitney smiles at me, showing off her pearly white teeth. A studio light shines down brightly on her, giving her an ethereal, tempting appearance. She is gorgeous and she has no idea.
"Well," Whitney breathes. She begins to twirl a strand of her blonde hair around her finger, with a bored and fatigued face. "Do you want to get a coffee?"
At that exact moment, Lulu makes herself known to us. With icy cold blue eyes, that is nothing in comparison to Whitney's stare coldly at us. When I first met this lady a couple of months ago, she gave me the chills. In fact, she still does. I'm not entirely sure why Whitney hasn't fired her. It's as clear as day that they despise each other.
"Whitney, you know you can't have that today," Lulu comments, in a low, warning tone. Her eyes wander over Whitney, with distaste. "You are on a diet. Remember that."
Whitney scoffs quietly, shooting dirty looks at Lulu. Unfazed by the obvious hatred, Lulu saunters off. I watch her leave, also in displeasure. That woman is just plain mean and cold. I don't think there's a nice bone in her body.
"I hate her," Whitney says, bitterly.
"Same," I reply.
"So coffee?" My lips tilt upwards at her negligence to Lulu.
"Sounds good to me," I reply and fall into step with her.
***
"So what are your plans after we finish Lovers Lie?" I ask Whitney. She's sitting opposite me in the local cafe we found. It's close to where we were shooting one of the last scenes of our new film. We have a few more days on set and then...its over. I'm hoping we continue to stay in contact after the premier and promotion interviews.
Well, I would like us to be more than friends. But, she doesn't know that yet. Hell, I don't think she will ever know.
"Um, I'm not sure," she answers, putting her espresso down. "I think I might go on a break. Recently, I have been so busy."
I nod my head in understanding.
We talk for a few more moments, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. Most of the time, I surrounded by paparazzi, who hurl questions at me.
But of course, it has to come to an end.
"Oh my god! Is that Whitney and Jason?" A young girl practically screams to another girl beside her. "As in, the famous Hollywood actors?"
From my peripheral vision, I catch Whitney wince slightly. As much as I adore my fans, sometimes they can be so overbearing. I don't think they understand that we are humans too and even we need privacy.
"Do you want to get out of here?" She asks me. Immediately, I nod my head.
The both of us quickly get up and hurry out. Whitney grabs onto my hand, clutching it tightly. Once again, the familiar feeling of warmth hits me. I love the way we hold hands together. But I hate the fact she doesn't see me as more than a friend. When I first met Whitney, I liked her as a friend.
We got along, we shared jokes and messed around on set. Everything was nice. And then I started liking her more than a friend. Which is funny because I could never imagine myself like that. I don't see girls very often because I'm always busy but when I do, I only see them once. We usually have sex and then we split. It's an easy cycle that doesn't require any arguments.
Whitney, of course, manages to capture all of my attention. She holds me in a tight grip. I can't even think about another girl without having Whitney's beautiful figure or stunning face flash in my head.
It's scary how little time I've spent with her and how much my feelings have grown. I don't know if this is natural or not.
"Well," Whitney sighs, "that was...fun."
I laugh. "Totally," I say sarcastically.
Whitney starts swinging our hands up and down. We stop at a crossing, waiting patiently for the cars to stop. On the other side of the path, I watch a young couple, possibly the same age as me, hug each other affectionately. The woman clings tightly to her boyfriend whilst he whispers something into her ear.
I have seen many couples out before, holding hands, hugging or kissing. Never have I felt longing before though. I don't know why...it's so strange but I want what they have. With the breath-taking girl stood next to me.
What is Whitney doing to me?
Beside me, Whitney sighs. She too is staring at the couple. Sadness is etched on her face, pain shining in her blue orbs. I wonder if she has ever been in love before. Whitney hasn't told me much about herself before she became famous. In fact, not many people at all know about her life before fame.
It just occurred to me that Whitney could have been in love before now. She isn't dating anyone now; that could be because she doesn't want to experience heartbreak again.
The cars on the road stop and we cross, passing the happy couple as we walk.
The town here is quite small, it's nice. This town has a sort of homely feeling to it that I can never really find.
"Do you want to sit in that park?" I ask her, pointing at the small park.
Whitney bites her lip. "As long as no one notices us - yes."
I roll my eyes. "You are such a worry wart."
Whitney gasps. "Coming from you. You...you hypocrite."
I laugh lightly. This is what I love about Whitney, she can be so easy going. She likes to have a laugh but she is also serious when she needs to be.
"Is here good for you?" I ask her, gesturing to the bench close to the park path. Whitney answers my question by plonking herself down on the seat, scanning the area. She relaxes when she doesn't see any hidden reporters.
"I like it here." She comments and I hum in agreement.
Silence falls over us for several minutes. We listen to the birds tweeting, the kids giggling and parents chatting.
"Whitney," I call, swallowing. I'm going to ask her about her love life. I just have to know. Its vital for me to know. She turns her head to face me, gazing intently at me. "Have you ever been in love?"
Her whole body stiffens. The way she stares at me with wide, almost frightened eyes scares me. Why is she afraid? Has she been in love? Does that mean she was heartbroken?
I watch as she swallows harshly and drags a hand through her glossy blonde hair.
"Well," she breathes, "I guess since I trust you and you're my friend, I can tell you." I hear her mutter.
I frown. This just adds to my confusion. What is she hiding?
"It all started a long time ago when my name was Anastasia and..."
And I listen to her tell me her story. I don't interrupt her, I know that this is very important to her and she deserves to be listened.
By the end, I'm angry, furious, enraged. I'm ready to punch her asshole of a brother's face and most of all, Callum's.