Volatile

Chapter 3

A familiar hand wrapped around my torso, and just as swiftly as I had fallen I ascended. My eyes popped open and I saw that I was secure in his arms.

“I can’t believe it!”

“You didn’t think I’d let you fall?” he said, setting me down beside him.

“I didn’t know what to think.”

“I’m here with you now,” he said, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Put your complete faith in me and I promise I’ll guide you, neophyte,” he said. I bit my lower lip, still skeptical of him, but didn’t voice my fears. He scooped me up and we flew away. My head rested upon his thorax, listening to his shallow heartbeat. Extreme warmth radiated from him.

The wormhole reappeared and we reemerged in Los Angeles on the iron balcony outside my apartment. I turned to him and saw that his eyes glistened.

“You’re the one who sent me the talisman and cards,” I said.

“You needed some encouragement to believe in yourself. Just know that I have faith in you,” he said. We embraced, and he rested his chin on the crown of my head.

“Thank you,” I said, stepping away from him toward the door.

“Maricel,” he said in a gentle yet firm voice, and I pivoted on the balls of my feet. “For now, keep what we have a secret.”

“Goodnight, Claudius.” I tipped my head and closed the door behind me.

* * *

The next day I dropped change into the fare box of the city bus, examining my prospects for a seat and chose one towards the back corner. An attractive young man with short, dark hair seated across from me drew back his lips as our eyes met.

“I'm Thane. What's your name?” His brown eyes studied me. Heat rose in my face, and I tore my eyes away from him.

“Maricel,” I said. His long face lit up with delight.

“From the looks of things, you’re new to L.A.?”

“Yup,” I said, fiddling with my purse strap.

“What brought you here? I’ve seen a ton of people come and go. It’s like a revolving door around here.”

“My career,” I said, keeping my gaze on my mustard yellow tennis shoes.

“Where are you from?” He leaned forward with his hands clasped and I caught a whiff of a piney smell.

“Kansas.”

“Aw, just like Dorothy.” He smirked.

“Ha, real funny,” I said.

“It’s cute,” he said.

“My hometown, Holcomb, is known for the Clutter murders.”

“Crazy, and I thought Kansas was a peaceful place.”

“It’s like any other place that has its good and bad areas.”

“I see. Have you lived anywhere else besides Kansas?”

“New York City.” I shrugged.

“You’re a nomad.”

“Well, let’s just say I’m yet to find my home.”

“Restless?”

“Very much so.”

“You said something about a career?” His brows rose.

“I’m an actress.”

“Damn, good luck. By the looks of things, you shouldn’t have too hard of a problem, making it.”

“If you say so.” I tugged at the cuff of my sweatshirt to cool myself from the sudden heat wave that overtook me.

“No, I’m serious! Most people do well to land a spot as an extra.”

“I’d hate to be another cliché tale of an actress swallowed by the vicious world of Hollywood.” I sighed.

“You seem more like a legend to me already.”

“That’s a huge stretch,” I said, looking up at his thin face for a quick second before looking away.

“It’s hard not to give someone a compliment when credit is due.”

“Whatever,” I said, peering out the window.

“If you want I could show you around the city after I get off work tonight…” Although it wasn’t in my nature to encourage this sort of thing, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a tour of the city.

“Okay.”

“I'll pick you up after work. Here’s my number. Text me and let me know it's you,” he said, handing me an old receipt. I chewed my bottom lip, uncertain of what else to say and nodded.

The bus crawled to a stop, and he waved. I returned the gesture as he disappeared, then punched the number he had scribbled on the back of the receipt into my phone. Instant dread gripped me about what I had just agreed to, and I wished that I could turn back time and decline his offer. But I hated breaking a promise once I made one, no matter how unpleasant. It was difficult for me to say no to anyone even when I knew it would cost me. Pushing it to the back of my mind, I focused on getting into character.

“Hurry, we’re going to begin in fifteen minutes,” a member of the crew said as I entered. An actress who had short, Ombré hair that hung right above her broad shoulders bumped into me as she spun around, screaming at another actor.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. She ignored my apology and marched past me with her nose high in the air.

As I sat at the dresser in the dressing room, I peered into the mirror, the hairstylist undid my bun, letting down my straight hair that flowed to my lower waist. Then she parted my thick tresses, adding waves, which made my round face appear ovular. A makeup artist came around and applied eyeliner and mascara to accentuate my dark, almond-shaped eyes.

The bumping sound of slight movement in the dressing room alerted me and I pivoted around. Nothing was out of the ordinary, just the group of makeup artists, hairstylists, and racks of clothing.

When, I glanced back at myself in the mirror I caught a glimpse of Claudius standing behind me. I clutched my chest to catch my breath.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. He came around the chair and placed his hand on top of mine.

“Don’t fret, we’re communicating with our minds. No one else can see or hear me. I could make myself known to them, but I prefer to stay under the radar,” he said, sorting a few strands of my hair.

He vanished again, and I watched my hair rise on its own. No one seemed to notice as they continued chattering. Claudius reappeared behind me and enclosed his hands around my shoulders. “I’m haunting you,” he said.

“It’s kind of creepy, but I could use a guardian angel.”

“What?” one of the makeup artists said as I shifted in the chair. I smiled, embarrassed that I had spoken aloud instead of keeping it in my head.

“Nothing.” I withdrew my phone, then glanced at Claudius, who chuckled.

“You look stunning,” he said.

“Maricel, hurry up! We’re going to begin any moment now!” A crew member pounded on the door.

“Are you going to watch me?”

“If you want.”

“I’d love it if you did,” I said.

“Break a leg. You were born a star who shines brighter than Venus herself,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, rushing onto the set.

As we filmed I couldn't help but smile every time I glanced to my left and there he was. Sometimes he’d dash in front of the green screen or a fellow actor, dancing in circles around me and I’d erupt into laughter.

“Why are you smiling?”

My head swiveled around to see the woman I had knocked heads with earlier and I sighed. She crossed her arms over her chest. Claudius ran up behind her, and pretended to kick her in the butt. I covered my mouth as a broad grin spread across my face. “What do you think is so amusing?” She squinted at me.

“Life can be funny when it imitates art.” I giggled.

“You’re beyond weird.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Save your pathetic smile for the camera,” she said, marching away. I burst into laughter and turned to him.

“I see that you already have a fan,” he said.

“A super fan,” I said. His eyes lit up in a green shade at the expression.

“Oh my gosh, your eyes, they glow!”

“There are a lot of things you’ll have to learn about me.”

“I’m up for it.”

“Are you ready to leave?” He placed his arm around me.

“More than ready.” I leaned into him. He led me outside as the sun set for the day.

“Where do you want to go? Paris, Rome, Beijing, the moon?” His light eyes examined me. Then I remembered that I’d promised to meet Thane. Claudius would be the perfect excuse to get out of it, but I didn’t want to be rude after his kind offer.

“Now that you mention it, I just remembered that I promised to hang out with someone earlier today.”

“Okay,” he said, removing his arm, and turning away.

“I really would’ve liked to have spent time with you tonight,” I said. He didn’t turn as he continued to walk, his shoulders raised. “There’s always tomorrow!”

He c****d his head back, studied me, then nodded and flew straight up. After he disappeared into the sky, I reached for my phone and texted Thane.

Moments later the bus halted and I got on. As my eyes searched for a seat, my phone vibrated. I glanced down to see the message, then heard a familiar voice. My eyes met Thane’s as he sat in the back, and I walked over, and sat beside him.

“How’d filming go?” He rubbed his hands together.

“Okay, but ...” I said, debating whether I should mention the woman on the set.

“But…”

“There’s this girl who hates me because I accidently bumped into her,” I said. He laughed and inched closer.

“I’d hate you too, if I was a girl.” He smiled. I couldn’t think of how to reply to his comment, so I pretended to read a text on my phone. There was a moment of silence, but he interrupted it. “Are you hungry?” he asked. I nodded and scooted away when he turned his head for a second, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “How about we grab a bite to eat before I take you on the tour? I’m not productive when I’m hungry.”

“Me either,” I said, touching my face.

“Wanna try my favorite seafood restaurant?”

“Um...sure.”

“First, I need to stop by my place. I forgot something.”

“Okay,” I said, hesitant about the idea, but I ignored my gut feeling, writing it off as anxiety.

“How long have you lived in L.A.?” I pushed a tendril of stray hair behind my ear,

“I’ve been an Angeleno my entire life,” he said. The bus’s movement ceased, and I followed him off. We strolled to his apartment complex in East Hollywood. The odor of ripe garbage bags piled in graffitied dumpsters assailed my nostrils. Across the street stood a dilapidated gas station. Underweight junkies congregated on the stoop of an apartment complex. A large, brown dog lunged forward from behind a chain-link fence with a deep growl. I backed away. Although I tried not to pass judgment, I couldn’t help feeling alarmed, being from a small town where everyone knew each other and slept with their doors unlocked.

“Sorry about the quality of living here. I can tell you’re uncomfortable,” he said as we trekked up the weathered staircase to his complex.

“Very,” I said. He stared at me for an entire minute without a smile. I rubbed the back of my neck, worried that I had been too candid. His mouth pulled into an awkward smile. My eyes tore away from him. Thane opened the door, walked in, and took a seat on the couch, throwing his arms behind his head.

“There’s no place like home. Is there?” he said. My nose shriveled up as he sat there surfing channels, his eyes glazed over.

“I thought we were going to a seafood restaurant?” I marched in front of the television, blocking his view, upset that he had been dishonest.

“You’re already here, babe.” He smirked. I glared at him, having believed that he meant what he had said about a restaurant and tour. I had no intention of staying in this slum. My gaze shifted to the carpet, noticing black resin smeared on the gaudy carpeting and decor.

“Look, I should—” Before I could finish the sentence, he stood up.

“I’ll cook for you,” he said. I tried not to frown as he walked into the kitchen pulled out a package of frozen chicken breast from the fridge. “Have you ever had fettuccine alfredo?”

“Nope.”

“Nobody makes it like I do,” he said. I tried to force my lips into a smile but failed. “I could use your magic touch.”

I shrugged and joined him in the kitchen. It wasn’t much cleaner than I expected, but at least there were no dishes piled up in the sink.

After washing my hands, I assisted him in getting out seasoning, cutting vegetables, and adding sautéed zucchini to the side.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like to cook or was dissatisfied with home cooked meals. As a kid, I had done most of the cooking, because my mother was never home.

As we worked together, he’d take sideways glances at me and I’d pretend not to notice. My knees knocked and my palms would sweat every time our eyes met. By the look in his eyes, I sensed that he had plans beyond a simple dinner. But I rejected the idea as nothing more than me overanalyzing the situation, a tendency I’d always had.

Later, we sat at the table across from one another in the dim dining room. The red oak wood of the chairs was chipping away. Wax fell onto the stained floral tablecloth from the single candle that burned in the center of the table. A drab nineties tune played in the background. He poured me a half glass of white wine. My stomach growled from the scent of creamy Parmesan cheese that filled the air of the clammy room.

“I had a lot of fun cooking with you, Thane.” I took a sip and puckered my lips from the bitter, medicinal taste. He snickered at how I reacted. To wash it down, I shoved a fork full of rubbery noodles down my throat. It wasn’t much better than the wine. Despite seasoning it myself, it was barely edible. I twisted my face into something that resembled a smile to cloak my disgust and mustered a thumbs-up. “And this food is excellent!”

“I’m glad you like it. I was a little nervous at first when you drank that wine. You don’t drink that often?”

“Hardly.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” He tilted his head.

“Indeed.”

“Look, I’m sorry, a fancy restaurant was above my pay grade.”

“This is good, if not better.”

“You really think so?” He was unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

“Yeah,” I said, hoping he couldn’t tell that I was lying.

“You know, it was my dream to go to culinary school.”

“Really?” I stabbed at a piece of zucchini with my fork.

“I dropped out of high school eight years ago when I was sixteen and stupid,” he said, stuffing a piece of chicken in his mouth.

“Why?”

“I got caught up with the wrong crowd and have been paying for it ever since.”

“I’d never would’ve guessed. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don't be. Things are looking up.”

“How so?”

“I got my own place after finding a job working construction. It’s my hope that if I save up enough money I can get out of this purgatory of a city and go to school elsewhere.”

After hearing his story, it was easier to sympathize with him. Then I thought about my mother, and how it would anger her to see me listening to Thane’s story. She always warned me against hanging around uneducated men. My father had dropped out of college his first year due to low grades from partying. After ten years of marriage, he had left her for another woman. Any man that resembled my father in any way, she cautioned me against. She even grew upset when I’d talk about living in a big city someday. Probably because my father was from Charlotte, North Carolina, a large city compared to our hometown.

“I sure hope so too,” I said, pushing a piece of zucchini around my plate.

“Eventually,” he said, rising and picking up the dishes. I joined him at the sink and turned on the balmy water. It rushed out so I adjusted it to a lighter flow and scrubbed the grime off the plates with a sponge and dish soap.

As he reached one hand around me to give me another plate to wash, his other hand covered my mouth. The dish slipped from my hand, shattering to thousands of pieces on the tile floor. He ripped me off my feet by my torso and with the other hand dragged me backwards to the bedroom.

My boots dug into the carpet, building up friction as I released a cry. The orange, blue and red spirals of the carpet’s design caused my head to spin. He threw me onto the bed and removed his gray t-shirt, exposing his lanky frame. Leaping up, I dashed for the door, but he remained on my heels, snatching me by the waist.

“Thane, stop!”

“Shut up!” he shouted, his face reddened. “You think you’re too good for me?”

“I never said that!”

“It’s written all over your face!”

“You read things wrong!” I said as hot tears welled up in my eyes.

“Nothing is ever good enough for women like you! But I’ll break your cocky little attitude!”

“I’m nothing like that!”

“You turned up your nose at me the minute you boarded that bus.”

“Calm down, please!”

He stared at me without uttering a word, and shook his head. I squirmed in his arms, managing to wiggle myself free, but his knuckles collided with my face. Falling backwards, I rubbed my sore cheek in shock. It was the first time anyone had ever hit me.

“What’s the matter, surprised somebody finally put you in your place?”

“Leave me alone!” I kicked him in the groin. He let out a sharp grunt. His legs pulled together as he collapsed to his knees

“So that’s how you want to play? I paid for you!” he hollered as he held onto his crotch. I couldn’t believe his logic that having dinner meant that I owed him pleasure. Just as I moved to run, he took hold of my ankles, and knocked me face forward to the floor. With a smothered cry into the carpet, I called for Claudius. “I’ve always liked it when a girl runs,” he said, unfastening the belt of his skinny jeans.

While his fingers were fumbling with the zipper, he fell on his stomach beside me. I sat up as Claudius struck him from behind.

“Run!” he said. I flung the door open, and rushed down the narrow hallway and flight of stairs.

When I stepped outside, I heard a squeal and glass shattering. I turned just in time to see Claudius’s charcoal wings, flying away and Thane, plummeting from the window.

A group of people gathered around Thane and looked up at the window, mouths agape. Thane pried his bruised eyes open with a groan. They must not have seen Claudius because they all whispered amongst themselves, wondering why Thane would attempt suicide. As I turned on the balls of my feet, I felt a hand on my forearm.

“Come on!” Claudius picked me up and my head fell against his chest.