Scene of Eve

[ chapter 18 ]

“Alright, so just read over that again and email me back if you have any questions. Also, Mike confirmed that you can change some of the clauses in the contract.” Tiana drawled on. We’ve been discussing the contract for almost two hours now, going into deep details on every point. I wasn’t exactly complaining about the contract or how Tiana nearly bored me to death. No. I was complaining and whining to myself about how I have a lack of caffeine in my system right now. Also, the fact that my mind kept coming back to my worries from hours ago, which caused me to have a night of very disturbed sleep.

“Got it. So far, I have no qualms with it.” I said before closing my laptop.

“By the way, I gave Tyson your number too. I hope you don’t mind?” Tiana asked in a small voice.

I chuckled, “I’m not Ti. But why though? He could just call you or talk to Mike.”

“He just wants to personally contact you, I guess? He’s also very hands-on with his work, so I guess that’s another reason.”

I hummed with a sad smile as another ‘very hands-on’ person came to mind. Suddenly, I was truly terrified of the new gig. Because I see how Ian is and, to some extent, I feel intimidated once he’s in work mode. It’s like he’s a robot full of stored files in his system, but his storage also keeps expanding. 

The call cut off after Tiana followed up with a visit to the office tomorrow morning to finalize my contract with Genesis. And by afternoon, I am set to meet with Tyson’s team as well to further talk about the project and what my schedule will be once it starts. 

I’m happy that I have more projects to look forward to now. Genesis is not a joke and anyone who signed with them is sure to receive lots of love calls for different projects. And though I am finally getting bigger projects than before, it scares me. It scares me how it’s not going to be Ian anymore. I’ve grown used to hearing his praises after every scene. I’ve grown used to asking him for help when I feel like I haven’t done well. He literally became my mentor even without me asking to have him as one. He was just there quietly giving me his thumbs up and encouraging smiles. And I find myself craving that every time the director cuts the scene. That was the kind of hands-on I got used to and the kind that I thought I never really needed. Ian became my pillar when I started to doubt myself on and off-camera. 

Just how hands-on will Tyson be?

I spent the rest of my day just sitting by my coffee table as I read and re-read the contract that Genesis sent over, thinking of things that I might want to change or add. But nothing really comes to mind. It’s as if Genesis already knew my conditions and requests and easily orchestrated my first year with them.

Already on my fourth cup of coffee and still halfway through my croissant, my phone beeped showing a message from an unknown number. Forgetting that Tiana gave my phone number to Tyson personally, I decided to ignore the text and just nibbled further on my croissant. 

I’m not exactly hungry, but after overdosing on caffeine, my acidity level increased. Now I can’t even finish a cup without feeling a slight burning sensation in my intestines. In the middle of another sip, my phone beeped again, showing another message from the unknown number. I ignored it once again, just wanting to have a few hours to myself without anything in mind. 

On the third time my phone rang, it was already a call from that unknown number. The sun hasn’t fully set and the clouds are still in shades of yellow and orange. This is why the excuse of being asleep might not really sit well with whoever is calling. 

Maybe a nap?

“Hello, who’s this calling?” I answered the call before it went to voicemail.

“Miss Apple?” A familiar voice asked at the other end of the line. But I could not place a face on who exactly owns the familiar voice. It’s a little high-pitched. And contrary to the common thought that high pitch means energetic, the voice sounded anything but. 

“Uh, yes. Who’s this?” I asked again, a little irritated. I honestly hate having to entertain unknown numbers. The majority of my work contacts knew how to reach me through email, so having someone call my personal number is a little unsettling and not entirely helping me face my anxiety with phone calls.

“Tyson.” The voice said with a breathy chuckle, confirming his identity.

“Tyson! I mean-” Dropping my croissant, I wiped my lips and stood up, alert. A sudden wave of embarrassment crept up my neck until my ears felt hot. I couldn’t even move a limb as I waited for him to talk.

“Whoa. Someone’s pretty energetic for a supposed quiet afternoon.” His chuckles turned into full laughter, probably hearing the surprise in my voice.

“Sorry. I just didn’t really expect a personal call from you.” I took a deep calming breath as I sat down again and grabbed my croissant lying poorly on the floor. 

“Chill,” Tyson drawled on, enunciating the ‘ill’ a little longer and firmer, “Anyways. I called to ask you out for lunch tomorrow if you don’t mind?”

I wanted to say ‘no’ to his offer but he continued saying how he wanted to ‘let loose and chill out' before getting down to the real business. He wanted to - in his own words - get to know me more as an acquaintance and future partner. I choked on my spit as he said the word ‘partner’ as another ‘partner’ came into mind. A partner that left just this morning.

After finally composing myself again, “Of course, yeah, no problem.” But I was already starting to panic and regret the amount of caffeine in my system. 

But then I thought to myself, why was I thinking of rejecting his offer? It’s not like Ian and I are anything official. There might be something brewing but it’s not something we’ve talked about. We haven’t even talked about how we will be once my role is done. So what’s stopping me from leaving Ian’s shadow?

Nothing.

Nothing but my insecurities and the fact that I feel so comfortable with whatever’s happening between me and Ian that I no longer see myself taking any other risks compared to when I was a nobody. I was literally willing to jump off a cliff if asked by directors. I’d do anything for the role. Hold hands? Hug? Kiss? Even show some skin? I’ve done everything just to keep my name up in the game. I’ve sacrificed and risked it. But I never felt regret until Ian. But I know I can’t get myself stuck here. Because even if I have Genesis backing me up, who’s to say that they would not get tired of me and think that I’m just a waste of money and time? Just because I feel at ease, I can’t just sit back and relax. 

My phone rang again and showed me a text from Tyson with the details of where to meet him and his team for lunch. 

No more turning back.

_

The sky’s in shades of dark purple and blue while my phone screen has just turned black. I haven’t moved from my curled-up position by my window, the coffee and croissant are already cold and forgotten on the table.

I know I should probably get my ass moving for some proper dinner. I haven't really eaten a full meal the whole day. Just a bunch of nibbling and caffeine. I’ll probably feel the acidity attack sometime with Tyson mixed with my anxiety. It’s not exactly a new experience. I’ve skipped days, maybe even weeks, with no proper meals and nutrients in my food. So far, I’m still a functioning human being. I shouldn’t be this worried but. 

I’ve never found a reason to have ‘buts’. But the more I feel that my career is growing, so are the ‘buts’. A little ironic if you actually think about it. Why should I have doubts in the first place when I have got a whole team, a company, that can take the burden of responsibility away from me? All that’s left for me is to find ways and keep the connections I gain with the extra hand. Connections like-

‘Hey, I can drive you to your meeting tomorrow. How’s that sound?’ My phone lit again with a message from Ian. And before I could pick it up, it started ringing with his name appearing on the screen.

“Hey,” I sighed in content after hearing his voice again, even if it was just last night that we last talked. 

“How did your meeting with Mike go?” I asked as I finally found the strength to stand.

“Disappointing.” Weird how I can instantly see a little smirk on Ian’s face as he says this.

“Disappointing?” I mirrored his tone with a chuckle. 

“Yep,” He replied with a popping sound on the ‘p’, “Because apparently, I won’t be meeting you for a week or so.” At this, he sighed at the other end of the line. 

I sighed as well out of my own disappointment, though I don’t know if it was because of the fact that I needed to restock my refrigerator or because I wouldn’t see Ian. Maybe both. 

“It’s not like we’re exiled from each other. Besides, you’re driving me tomorrow, remember? No backing out, mister.” I said, grabbing a bowl and a fork before cracking an egg and scrambling it, my phone in loudspeaker mode.

Ian laughed at this and that was enough to calm the budding anxiety for my meeting tomorrow. At least I’ll see him before having to miss him for a few weeks. It was silent after that with me pouring the egg onto the pan and reheating my croissant. I opted for a cup of milk this time, hoping it could help more with the jitters in my stomach so I could digest my so-called dinner in peace.

I could hear a guitar softly playing in the background and recognized the song as one of the unreleased songs of Of Canticles Dying. Ian was humming to the song, sometimes creating a new lyric to a line or two. Most of it was just random phrases thrown, the song not really making any sense. But it was calming, soothing. Who knew that the person who was causing one of my main anxieties could calm my other anxieties?

I have sat at the dinner table with an empty plate for hours now. Ian ended up falling asleep in the middle of the fourth song he played because it turned out Mike called him to shoot some of his solo scenes. He told me how Joey made him run a marathon the whole afternoon while fake rain drenched him. No wonder he sounded like he was also coming down with the flu.

“Are you sure you can drive me tomorrow?” I asked after the first song after hearing him sneeze for the third time.

“Of course. I won’t be able to see you after tomorrow for a few weeks. So I’ll drive you. I already texted Tiana anyway. So it’s settled.” Another sneeze, then the second song.

_

The sun’s rays were peaking on the slit of my curtains, momentarily blinding me as I went under my bed covers to hide my face from the window. I sat up and rubbed my eyes gently before I pulled on my blankets in a struggle, as I soon found my way to my door. I looked at the wall clock in the kitchen. It’s just 9 AM but I know it’s not a lazy day for me. 

Although everything that recently happened feels like a dream, my feet are steadily walking on the ground. Or at least, I think I am still grounded, unless heaven is a complete replica of my house. I walked towards the kitchen and went straight to wash the mugs, knowing that even before I could make a decent breakfast, I would need a cup of coffee to get me set up. Sadly, caffeine easily expires in my system. So even if I had four cups of homemade Americano, I would need another cup for a new morning. It’s like the only thing that really keeps me moving these days is coffee. Every action, little or grand, needs an accurate amount of coffee.

So here I am waiting for the water to heat up. While waiting, I decided to open the curtains on my coffee table for some natural lighting in the house, only to be surprised to see Ian leaning on his car, sunglasses, and a navy leather jacket. He waved at me and mouthed something that I thought was in the lines of  ‘Are you drooling over me?’ or ‘Don’t make me drool over you longer, babe.’ I just squinted my eyes at him before opening my door, blocking his way in.

“Am I not welcome?” He asked with a chuckle as he raised his sunglasses on top of his head.

“I don’t let drooling beings in unless they wipe it off their faces.” I opened my door wider and I was met by his signature smirk that showed how he basically got what he wanted from me.

“You’re cranky. You need breakfast a la chef, Ian.” I laughed as I watched him go straight to my kitchen and bring out the things in the paper bag he'd been carrying. 

Closing the door, I am reminded of how my emotions were literally all over the place the night before. But it’s as if Ian walking back in scared those all away and dragged a strange sense of calm with him. But deep down, that calm scared me even more. A silent terrorist that’s likely observing from afar and plotting my demise.

I sat on my usual chair as Ian hummed one of Tyson’s songs, his back turned towards me as he faced the sink washing the plates and mug that I left to open the door for him.

“Did you know that Xander helped produce that?” Ian said, placing a plate of eggs, ham, and toast in front of me. 

“Produce what?” I asked as I grabbed the strawberry jam and spread it out on my toast before placing the eggs on top.

“The one I was humming,” Ian placed a mug of tea beside my plate. “Classic warm Chamomile tea for your nerves.”

“Xander is a producer then?” I was a bit taken aback because I didn’t really know what Xander’s job was. I think that after Of Canticles Dying went off the grid, he continued on to become some sort of freelancer like me.

“Yep. He actually signed an exclusive contract with Tyson when the rest of our band decided to retire.” Ian was staring mostly at my plate and not meeting my gaze.

“Are you-” “Okay?” We both laughed after finishing each other's questions. It’s funny, but one of the most common questions we ask each other is ‘are you okay?’. It’s like every silence from either one of us, we have to assure the other that we’re here for each other. Or maybe it’s us reassuring ourselves that whatever we are, we’re okay.

“Xander would probably be there with Tyson,” Ian said, finally meeting my gaze.

“Is that why you wanted to drive me?” I started eating my toast. This time I couldn't meet Ian’s intense gaze directed at me.

“I’m pretty sure you’d need coffee too once you’re there.” Ian avoided the question as expected and decided to search my kitchen shelf for my coffee Tumblr. At this point, I don’t even have to guess. Though I’m not always good at reading body language or people in general, Ian is an exception. It’s like he’s an open book and words are not needed for me to understand him. Or at least I don’t, because he’s basically bared open in my eyes and is a person, unlike the others who only see Ian Miller, the artist, and product of Genesis.

_

The drive to Genesis was pretty uneventful. I mostly ‘hummed’, nodded, and asked questions while Ian told me about what was coming next for his - “Our, Apple. Our.” He reiterated - project with him. 

And as the tip of the building for Genesis loomed just blocks away, Ian slowly hushed down to the small talks he had with Joey while they were working on our video.

“Hey, we’re okay.” I pulled at Ian’s hand and held it in between my own. He looks at me with a strained smile but his knuckles loosened their grip on the wheel.

“I’m sorry. I know I should be the one calming you down and not-”

“And you driving me there is calming me down,” He looked at me again as if he was ready to retort. “Do you think I’ll be able to compose myself or gather my thoughts inside a crowded train? Or do you think the radio silence of a cab driver would help me loosen my nerves?” 

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just-” He raised my hand up to his lips, “This is big for you. Even if it wasn’t Tyson, but the fact that you’ve signed a contract and already have projects lined up for the next few months.”

Ian’s eyes were twinkling. He was genuinely overwhelmed by me. If I was sane, I probably would be too. But being with Ian, in or out of the camera frame, always renders me dumb and has me feeling all gooey and not myself. I’m always putty in his hands. And I don’t know if that should scare me or not. But there’s also a part of me that tells me to be scared of him. But staring at his eyes right now just flushes the little voice in my head down the drain. 

“So I guess you won’t pick me up later?” I already knew the answer, but I guess I was hoping for some miracle to happen and that Ian would drop his own meeting with Joey late in the afternoon just to come for me like some knight saving a not-so-damsel but is in distress.

Ian slipped his hand out of mine, so I thought that was confirmation in itself. But to my utter disbelief, he parked a block away from Genesis and grabbed for his phone. At first, I thought he was going to tell me to get down and walk the final block to Genesis, but he held me down by my wrist as he reached out for his phone. Seeing the contact name, I instantly grabbed the phone and turned the call off before it could even go through. Before I could even say anything, Ian’s phone started ringing, and that Dir. Joey is calling. 

I swatted Ian’s hand away, reaching for the phone, which probably explains why my finger slipped, and pressed the answer button.

“Hey, Ian! You called? Hello? You there, Ian?” Frowning and huffing out a breath, I held a finger up and answered instead.

“Hey, Joey!”

“Apple? Where’s Ian? Is there anything wrong?” Joey sounded worried and was about to ask more.

“No, no, no. Ian is totally fine. Just taking a dump. He told me to tell you that he’s excited about your meeting later.”

“Oh? Well, that’s new. He’s never excited. Maybe because we’re working on your scenes together, that got him excited.” 

Ian, who was still trying to grab at his phone, stopped and cupped his lips instead and screamed a reply, “You got that one right Jo!”

“He done dumping his dump, I assume.” Joey chuckled at that and I told him, “Yes. Yes. Ian is indeed done dumping his dump. So he’s now going to drive to your studio.”

“Alright. Tell him to drive safely. And buy me a can of beer too.” 

Ian sat straight again and started driving down the street to Genesis, laughing all the way to the entrance. I scowled at him and crossed my arms stubbornly after he unclasped my seatbelt. He cupped my cheeks, slightly pressing them so my lips pout naturally.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” There was no hint of laughter in his voice, instead, it was fondness and assurance. I couldn’t nod with his hands still pressing on my cheeks and even if I wanted to nod, what he did next would surely make me freeze. He gently connected his lips to mine, his hands sliding down and cupping the back of my neck.

“Soon.” I gently bumped my forehead with his and kissed him one last time before opening the door and stepping out. 

Tyson, here I come.