Star Bright

Chapter 1-5

Dinner was set beneath a dome of midnight blue, the white glimmer of stars shifting over it and everything else in the room. Scattered amongst the tables were glass-cased exhibits of moon rocks and meteorites. Rafi tried not to stare like a rube.

Seating was, of course, assigned, and Rafi realized that his band’s implosion had probably caused the organizers a last-minute panic—though not quite so lminute as Julian’s request. They had pulled through for Rafi, at least; he only just caught sight of his brother and ex-fiancée on the other side of the room. Julian’s new seat was, alas, not at Rafi’s table, but close enough that they could easily meet eyes over the heads of the intervening guests. Rafi gave Julian a wink. He did not return it.

Uncle Eddie was, unfortunately, only one table away from Julian. Now that Rafi looked for it, there was a family resemblance between them; Eddie had dark hair, a neat beard, and a solid middle-aged figure, almost a negative to Julian’s delicate looks, but the piercing blue eyes were the same. Julian’s actual uncle as well as his manager, from what Rafi had heard. Julian was only one of several rising young actors who owed his career to Uncle Eddie.

Eddie never glanced Rafi’s way, and yet Rafi felt certain he knew exactly where he was. It was disconcerting.

Soon enough, Rafi was distracted by the dinner, conversation with his seatmates—all connections worth making, and interesting people to boot—and later, the event’s entertainment, a graceful acrobatics troupe recreating the life cycle of a star. Yet he caught himself continually glancing Julian’s way, as if checking on him. Not that Julian needed assistance; his left seatmate, a well-known rapper in a leopard-print gown, looked to be wrapped around his finger, and everyone else at the table was equally charmed.

His uncle seemed to be having a nice enough time at the next table. Rafi thought that his expression of neutral geniality was…almost unsettlingly even, giving way to neither laughter nor frowns, no matter what happened around him.

Eventually, the evening drew to a close. People left their seats, drifted into the next room for a final drink or tidbit of dessert, and from thence, Rafi assumed, home. Or perhaps to an afterparty somewhere, but personally he’d had enough for the night.

That was where Rafi was faced, at last, with Carlos and Bo.

There were always a few people who ignored the dress theme, especially men; his brother was among them, wearing a fine but unexceptional tuxedo. Bo, however, was luminous in a brilliant blue number obviously inspired by the morpho butterfly of the sss, with a silky shawl around her shoulders in the shape of butterfly wings. She’d put blue streaks in her white-blonde hair to match. With Carlos’s arm around her waist, she stood in conversation with—was that Benedict Cumberbatch?—who bowed over her hand, then exclaimed over the diamond ring he found there, tilting it so that it flashed in the light. Bo’s other hand rested, perhaps unconsciously, on the gentle swell of her belly. Carlos caught Rafi’s gaze, tightened his arm around Bo, and bent to kiss her ear without ever breaking eye contact.

“I suppose you’ll need an address to return my bracelet to,” said a voice at Rafi’s elbow, and in a surge of pure jealous spite, Rafi pulled Julian close to his side.

“There you are, sweetheart,” he said, a little too loudly. “I was starting to worry.”

Julian went stiff as a mannequin under his arm but did not, as Rafi half-expected, knife him on the spot. Rafi had the pleasure of seeing his brother’s eyes widen, and Bo stop mid-word to look toward his voice, her mouth dropping open. Uncle Eddie, drifting by, was already eyeing Julian with some disfavor; at Rafi’s words, he looked every bit as boggled as Bo and Carlos.

“Run along, Uncle,” Julian called. “Like I said, I won’t be needing the car.”

Uncle Eddie continued standing there several beats longer than could be considered graceful, and their little tableau was drawing attention. Rafi saw someone snap a phone pic. Then Eddie pasted a bland smile onto his face and continued out the door. Carlos and Bo made a flustered attempt to resume their conversation with Cumberbatch.

Julian got a vicious sharp-nailed grip on Rafi’s arm, and hauled him into one of several alcoves scattered about the room, obscured by the long fronds of a possibly-artificial weeping willow.

“What,” Julian said, his voice arctic and precise, “was that?”

“That,” Rafi replied, “was a stupid and impulsive attempt to shock my brother and—”

“—ex-fiancée. Of course. Why me?”

“Well.” Rafi felt his face heat. “You were handy. You’re also very much my type, which lent the moment verisimilitude. I’m sorry, it was dumb—though you do seem to have gotten something out of it as well.”

“An opportunity to needle my uncle is not to be missed,” Julian said, almost absently. He was examining Rafi’s face with narrowed eyes. “In fact, this presents an opportunity for…something beyond needling.”

“Like what?”

Instead of answering, Julian held out his hand, as if for a handshake. “I accept your proposition. This arrangement has benefits for the both of us.”

“What?” Rafi stared at the proffered hand. “Proposition? No! I didn’t mean—it was a stupid idea, I’m sorry I did it, let’s never speak of it again—”

Julian raised an eyebrow, and his hand snaked forward to seize Rafi’s wrist, the cut there pinching painfully under the gold bracelet. “I saved your life, remember? You owe me.”

“I…” But the idea had its appeal. As a middle finger to Bo and Carlos, it served nicely, and he couldn’t say he hated the idea of the gossip rags saying he’d traded up. If the price was having to get cuddly with a man as gorgeous as Julian Gault, he could pay that without flinching. “Well, I guess…”

At that moment, a photographer—one Rafi had to assume had snuck in through the exit, and would soon pay in blood for it—stuck his head into their half-secluded alcove. Julian rose onto his toes and kissed Rafi full on the mouth just in time for the flash.