[trigger warning: mention of self-harm]

JULY 3 - 4

ALLIX

Something about the energy on Friday Island shifted when July arrived. It seemed colder, trepidation lingering in the air, and I suspected that everyone was anticipating things to get worse before they got better. I wasn't immune to the energy; in fact, I was absorbing it like a wet sponge. The sleepless nights and watchful eyes of my parents only intensified my inner turmoil. Every meal was a marathon, and the scale hidden beneath the sink in my bathroom had electric green numbers that burned my eyes.

I'd thought I was getting the hang of compartmentalizing, of tricking myself into believing that the mystery wasn't affecting me, but then my period wasn't on time. It was five days late now. It was five days late, and I was one day closer to ruling that I'd slipped back into bad habits.

Nothing I told myself made me feel any better because I remembered the dark days all too well. After three months without menstruating, doctors will formally prescribe the title of amenorrhea, and a younger Allix would've secretly celebrated because this was validation. A state of relative energy insufficiency wouldn't scare me, not when I was feeling invincible and light. I was all sharp lines and bold ambitions that clawed at my polished skeleton.

But that was a girl worshipping size 00 with razor blades tucked beneath her mattress. That was a girl who made her girlfriend scream when she found her in the bathroom with blood trickling from the parallel cuts on her hips. That was a girl I didn't want to remember, but my period was over a week late, and tagging along on an unspecified mission with Syd sounded like a decent distraction.

Unfortunately, the unspecified mission was accepting Brenna's invitation to visit her on the set of Apex.

"Remind me why I'm here?" I asked Syd as we approached the cluster of luxury trailers on the cliffside. "Because in case you haven't noticed, I'm not interested in being a third-wheel."

A cold breeze swept through the tall grass, whistling an eerie tune, and I pulled my cardigan tighter around me. July hadn't chased away the breezy sixty-degree days and sporadic rain showers, but at least the weather was predictable. I sensed the fresh promise of rain settling in the air, mingling with the salt from the sea and pine from the forest.

"To be my bodyguard," Syd stated without an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.

I scoffed. "Don't get me wrong, I can throw a few good punches, but I lack the proper physique for that job." I gestured to myself - pale, gaunt, exhausted, and not wanting to be here.

"Being buff is overrated," he shrugged. "Besides, you've got your icy glare and intimidating pretty girl energy to protect me from all the self-centered assholes down there."

As the breeze tangled my hair in front of my face, I did my best to smile. "Is feeding my ego how you're repaying me for driving Dakota to the banquet?"

Syd made a low noise in the back of his throat. "You two really need to sort out your issues. The passive-aggressive nature of your affection is exhausting."

"We don't have issues," I defended, unsure of who I was actually trying to convince. I wished I could walk through the doors to my mind and tell all of the pesky voices to shut up shut up shut up.

Syd's silver earring glistened in the overcast light as he eyed me warily. "Whatever floats your boat. I just hope you've got a lifejacket for when it sinks into the ocean of denial."

I clenched my jaw so tight that it grew sore. Issuing a defense wasn't worth it, mostly because Syd had pure intentions.

We spent the next few minutes in comfortable silence, the kind born out of enduring friendship. Syd might be Maud's neighbor and Dakota's best friend, but he'd always been my touchstone. As I walked beside him, I considered how Syd was the first to reach out to me after my absence, and how he'd never pressured me for the truth or made me feel guilty for keeping secrets. He respected me enough to give me space while simultaneously remaining a constant source of support.

Sooner than I would've liked, we arrived on the outskirts of Apex's set. Indistinguishable conversation floated towards us, and the trailers looked far more grand than they had from afar.

"Brenna wants us to meet her at her trailer," Syd said, grinning as he read a text on his phone. "Then we're going to head down to the beach with her to shoot a scene, or whatever they call it."

The text appeared to boost Syd's confidence because he picked up his pace, but I stopped walking, my muscles freezing out of fear. If we were going to the beach to shoot a scene, that most likely meant that Conrad would be there to oversee everything. That was what producers did, right?

As far as I knew, my friends were the only ones who knew that I was the one to call in the tip about the harpoon at the museum. I didn't want anyone to suspect that I was anything other than a girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time on May 16th. Unfortunately, Conrad was well aware of my ongoing involvement, and marching straight into what might as well be his lair was self-sabotage. I didn't need any more of that in my life.

Realizing that I wasn't keeping up, Syd glanced over his shoulder, his expression puzzled "You good?"

I was not good.

"I should wait in the car," I blurted out, curling my hands up into the sleeves of my cardigan. "I can't risk seeing Conrad, not after what happened at the banquet."

"What are you talking about?" Syd questioned, his voice surprisingly soft. He took a few steps back in my direction. "What happened?"

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, contemplating my next words. If I was going to start telling someone the truth, I needed to start somewhere and with someone. After a moment, I decided that today that someone was Syd.

"After our brunch, Brenna and I sailed into Roche Harbor to verify that Conrad was staying at the resort on May 16th. We went into his cabin."

"Did you find anything?"

We hadn't unless finding anything meant the man himself, but I figured that it was time to catch Syd up. I told him about Conrad returning to the cabin as well as what happened at the banquet. He didn't interrupt, listening intently throughout my rambling explanation.

I expected him to be upset. I expected him to complain about being left out. I expected him to confront me the way Maud and Dakota had.

But when Syd replied, he was calm like the sea before a storm. "Let's go," he told me, nodding towards the trailers.

"What?"

"We're going down there," he stated, pointing at the trailers. "I'm not going to be intimidated, and neither are you. If we see Conrad, he'll know that he failed to scare you off."

"But he did scare me," I admitted, flexing my once bruised hand. When I closed my eyes, I could still feel the ghost of Conrad's tight grip. "I can't do this anymore. I can't do any of this."

"You can," Syd said fiercely and put his hands on my shoulders. "You're the toughest person I know, and some Hollywood asshole isn't going to derail any of the progress you've worked so hard for, okay?"

Sincerity shone through his words, and the unspoken understanding in his eyes gave me the courage to nod. We weren't just talking about Conrad anymore. I couldn't let the mystery and the crimes of others pull me into an abyss of self-loathing. I didn't want to go back there. Not today, not ever.

"Okay," I agreed, exhaling an unsteady breath.

"You ready?" Syd asked.

"I'm ready."

*

Brenna talked with her hands as she quickly explained that she only had one more scene to film for the day and that we should be on our way out in less than an hour. She also mentioned that Conrad and Dakota weren't on set due to a meeting with GBC. Their absence meant that Mike and Myles Bennett were in charge, who she claimed were very efficient for being second-string producers.

"God, you should see your face right now," Brenna said, smirking as the three of us made the trek down the cliffside to the beach. Grey waves crashed against the rocky shoreline, their choppiness warning of an impending storm. "This is the happiest I've ever seen you."

I gave a humorless laugh, shaking my head. "I'm not happy, just relieved."

Syd glanced over at me, sporting a knowing smile. "And totally not intimidated."

"When have I ever been intimidated?"

I didn't hang around for a response, opting to drift away from Syd and Brenna. They deserved a chance to share a private moment. The dry sea air filled my lungs, and I admittedly felt a lot calmer while I was near the water. It was so wildly harmonious, filling me with a sense of serene insignificance. My actions rarely had a ripple effect outside of my own tiny existence, but all over the world, waves crashed onto shorelines whether I witnessed it or not.

Eventually, I rejoined a flushed Syd at the edge of the set. I thought I spotted a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth, but I decided not to comment on it. I would hate to stain a perfect moment with a drop of embarrassment.

We kept our distance from the action as the cameras began to roll, watching Brenna act out a very convincing emotional breakdown in front of who I assumed was her character's mother. Syd observed with a mix of contentment and admiration on his features, and I secretly envied how effortlessly he conveyed his affection. He didn't hide his feelings for Brenna. Their summer romance was all sunlight with seemingly no shadows of doubt. No heartbreak to hide.

As the cameras continued to roll for another hour, the crew and other actors seemed eager to make us feel welcome. I suspected it had to do with us being friends with two of the most important people involved in Apex, and I kept my head screwed on straight as I endured small talk.

By the time Brenna made her way back over to us, mascara running from her blue eyes, the sky was a threatening shade of grey, and the temperature seemed to have dipped a few degrees.

"It's going to rain soon," Syd remarked, sounding very much like a resident of the Pacific Northwest.

Brenna nodded, pulling a makeup wipe out of her suede YSL handbag and began scrubbing at her face. "I need to head back to my trailer. I left my phone in there like an idiot."

I felt my Converse start to sink into the sand and shifted my weight, "I'll go start the car. You guys can meet me there."

It was my second effort to give them private time and I allowed myself to feel like a pretty damn good third wheel. That was all I was good for today, apparently.

Brenna's cheeks flushed pink. "We can all walk back up to the trailers together, though."

"Sounds like a plan," Syd said as we started hiking back up the cliffside. Seagulls cried overhead, their white feathers a stark contrast against the ever-darkening sky. "Also, we can have dinner at my place. Mom is making veggie stir fry because we're trying to lure Maud out of her house. She's been uncharacteristically elusive."

"I thought you said she has been hanging out with some new guy?" Brenna asked, with a hint of distaste in her voice, and I frowned. I didn't know anything about a new guy.

"Yeah," Syd confirmed, his expression clouding over. "He must be a tourist because I don't recognize him. There aren't many dudes with buzzcuts driving red trucks on this island."

I nearly face planted into the sand, blindsided by his words. "A red truck? Was it a Chevy?"

Syd blinked. "Uh, maybe? I didn't get a super good look because I was just getting the mail, not profiling her potential suitors."

"It just seems weird that she's hanging out with someone new, especially since her golden boy is still in the picture," Brenna blurted out, and I arched an eyebrow. Did she not remember when the truck nearly hit us at the crosswalk?

Syd said something about Nicki Watson returning to the island tomorrow for the holiday, but I wasn't listening. My mind transported me back to the night of the banquet when Maud was basically accusing the driver of that truck of stalking us. I'd thought the driver was paparazzi, convinced that we didn't need to worry, but now I wasn't so sure. Why would Maud be hanging out with the guy, and why wouldn't she mention anything to me?

It was insanely hypocritical of me to be irritated with Maud for keeping secrets, but my gut told me that this guy wasn't just a summer fling or simply taking photos of celebrities. He'd been looming over us, much like the gathering storm, and I wondered if I was ready for when the consequences started raining down.

"Right, so we'll meet you at the car in twenty," Syd said once we reached the trailers, and I managed a nod before departing.

I walked quickly, my heavy cardigan doing little to defend against the breeze rolling off the water, not wanting to be stopped by anyone. I needed to be alone with my thoughts so I could figure out what to do about Maud and this mystery buzzcut guy driving a red Chevy truck. For whatever reason, my brain conjured a visual of young Dave Franco, but that was the least of my concerns.

The confidence I'd built up earlier with Syd had frozen over, trapped beneath layers upon layers of icy doubt and contempt.

How had I expected myself to look out for my friends when I could barely look out for myself? I was failing to keep my head above water. I wanted to swim, but I was sinking like an anchor.

Dakota was right. I'd make a good actress because I almost believed myself when I thought this time would be different from the last. Meanwhile, even on this small island, the distance between us grew icier and increased with each passing day. I didn't know what to do anymore, fearing that the truth would somehow only make matters worse. The main obstacle in this situation was my pride. Telling Dakota the truth meant telling him that I was falling apart. I couldn't do that. I wasn't ready to shred my pride and hold it out to him on a silver platter, even if that was what I wanted to do. More than anything.

My brain short-circuited.

I was strong, not vulnerable. I was skinny, not gaunt. I was free, not a shimmering skeleton about to shatter.

Perception was a bitch.

I didn't realize I was crying until my vision blurred, and I ducked behind the nearest trailer to scrub them away. This wasn't the time or place for me to be negotiating with my feelings. Choking down a burning sob, I glanced around and flinched when I saw Conrad Kane's name printed on the shiny door of the trailer.

Because of course this would be his trailer.

The next thought that crossed my mind might as well have been my ticket to hell; I wanted to go inside.

I vehemently shook my head as if to exile the thought, and I turned on my heel, ready to return to the car. Unfortunately, I only made it a few steps before my stubbornness slammed on the breaks. I wasn't going anywhere, not without at least trying to take a quick look around.

I felt like I'd stepped into a trance as I reached for the handle, not wanting and wanting so badly for it to be unlocked. My heart hiccuped as the door clicked open. Refusing to sacrifice another second, I threw myself inside and nearly face-planted for the second time today.

With the lights already on, Conrad Kane's trailer was exactly as I would've imagined it: sleek, spotless, and reeking of expensive tobacco. Conrad Kane's trailer was exactly as I would've imagined it: sleek, spotless, and reeking of expensive tobacco. Wrinkling my nose, I stepped further into the space and made a beeline for the cabinets. I tensed up, surprised to find them unlocked.

I didn't even know what I was looking for, but at this point, I didn't care. All I wanted was to find something to safeguard me for when Conrad inevitably decided to blackmail Brenna and me.

Screw that, I thought.

Brenna would be perfectly fine. After all, she was the star actress Brenna Quinn, and Conrad needed her. That wasn't the case for me. There were very few people who needed me.

But I had to protect myself somehow.

"Come on, come on," I muttered as my fingers grazed over the top of thin folders labeled Project Apex. I pulled one out at random. "We all like to keep our secrets close."

Setting the folder down on the desk, I opened it and flipped through the pages. They were all legal documents regarding copyright and other production permits with the GBC logo on them.

Useless.

I reached for more folders, clinging to the hope that this wasn't a reckless waste of my time. There had to be something here that I could use. The contents of the folders were starting to blur together, all logistical nonsense, and I was starting to lose track of how many I'd searched through when a photograph fell face down on the desk.

My heartbeat started performing gymnastics as I picked it up with trembling fingers and slowly turned it over. I had a gut feeling of what it might be, but it was still sheer stupid luck when my eyes provided me with confirmation. An overly zoomed-in photo of Conrad and Gretchen kissing was precisely what I needed, and I almost felt guilty for being so lucky.

The vibrating of my phone from inside the back pocket of my jeans pulled me out of my euphoric haze. I must've tuned out the previous text alerts because there was more than the one I'd just received.

SYD ATWOOD, 5:30 PM: Got the phone! On our way.

SYD ATWOOD, 5:35 PM: At the car. Where are you?

SYD ATWOOD, 5:45 PM: WHERE ARE YOU? THE FIPD JUST GOT HERE.

BRENNA QUINN, 5:46 PM: If you're snooping where I think you're snooping, you need to get the hell out. Conrad is back.

Forget gymnastics, my heart was ready to flatline. I slipped the photo into the waistband of my jeans and neatly shoved the folders back into the filing cabinet. Just as I was about to slip out what appeared to be the backdoor, I heard an unfamiliar voice.

"It's this one, sheriff. I saw her go inside about twenty minutes ago-"

"I'll take it from here, Mr. Bennett."

Knowing I was doomed, I fought the urge to back against the wall. That would only make me look guiltier than I already was. When the door opened to reveal the thin and severe-looking woman, the sound of the pouring rain nearly drowned out her words.

"Allix McGovern," she said, displaying her badge. "My name is Sheriff Wakeman. Are you aware that you are trespassing on private property?"

"No. Am I?" I asked, my heart thundering inside my throat.

"I know you're a smart girl, Miss McGovern. Don't make this unnecessarily difficult for yourself."

That's all I know how to do, I thought.

"My friend is here," I blurted out before I could stop myself. "I was invited, but I think I got lost."

If the devil was truly in the details, then I was going to provide the least amount possible. It wasn't a good plan, not even in the slightest, but it was the only one I was capable of implementing at the moment. The adrenaline surging through my veins made me feel dizzy, and I tried to remember when I last ate before dismissing it as irrelevant.

"My department received a call that identified you as an intruder-"

The sound of the door opening once more interrupted Wakeman, and I almost didn't want to see who was joining the party, but I didn't have a choice.

Conrad Kane stepped into his trailer, his eyes steely and posture imposing. His hair, more silver than black, gleamed with the rain from the storm that had finally reached the island's shore.

When he spoke, he looked at me rather than Wakeman. "I'm afraid there's been a miscommunication in my ranks. Miss McGovern is my guest."

Wakeman arched a wiry eyebrow, now looking straight at me. "Is that so?"

"We have a mutual friend," I choked out. At least that much was true.

Conrad nodded, casually removing his jacket and draping it over the back of the desk chair. "And mutual interests that we'd planned to discuss. My staff wasn't notified because I didn't pencil her into my official schedule.

I almost wanted to laugh at how convincing Conrad sounded, but instead, I laced my fingers together in an attempt to cling to my dwindling composure. He was electing to save me from the trap I'd willingly marched into.

"Very well," Wakeman said. "The two of us can review your statement again with your staff, and Miss McGovern is free to leave."

A tense silence polluted the air until I realized that Wakeman was dismissing me, and my bones threatened to snap as I jolted towards the door. Even with every nerve in my body on edge, I still managed to plaster on a polite smile for Conrad.

"I'll schedule a time for us to meet again later," Conrad said, sounding terribly genuine as I slipped out the door.

As if the circumstances weren't complicated enough, I found Dakota waiting for me out in the rain. He stood in front of me, utterly drenched with his dark curls plastered to his face, and looked at me with eyes as dark as the storm clouds rumbling above our heads.

"Don't," I begged, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a second. "Just don't."

And he didn't. His lips remained pinched in a flat line.

I wasn't sure how I managed to walk by Dakota and not turn back, but the moment I reached the parking lot, I heaved out a mangled sob, surrendering to the hurt dwelling inside me.

"Holy shit," Syd said, materializing in front of me, holding a black umbrella. "You made it out."

Tears and rain bled together on my face. "I made it out."

I really wished I hadn't.

*

I had no business attending Bryce Shay's Fourth of July party, but I figured I might as well continue making questionable decisions since I was on borrowed time. Once my parents discovered that I was slipping back into my old habits, they would ship me back to that fancy treatment center in Seattle with a suitcase stuffed with my shattered hopes and dreams. So, I really couldn't care about what happened tonight, and the fifth of vodka in my hand was my ticket to forgetting.

As I meandered through the kitchen that was swimming with festively dressed teenagers, I found myself wishing that things could've been different. I also wished people would quit looking at me like I was a damn crime scene. There was no need to rubberneck.

"You look like you could use some water."

I snapped out of my hazy internal monologue, and looked up to find my ex-girlfriend standing next to me at the kitchen island. The red, white, and blue glitter dusting her high cheekbones reminded me of the Milky Way.

"I'm very hydrated, actually," I informed Hadley, picking up a shot-size red solo cup and pouring until the liquid kissed the brim. My nose burned as I threw it back, but I needed to make a point.

Hadley scoffed, shaking her head. "This isn't a cute look for you, Allix."

"I'm not trying to be cute."

"Sure," Hadley huffed out, and looked at me a little too closely for my liking. I wondered if she could see right through me. Then, I wondered whether I wanted her to see through me. "Well, good luck finding someone who can tolerate your self-destructive bullshit long enough to drive you home."

Hadley left as quickly as she came, and I exhaled a sigh of relief. She used to be one of those rare people who believed they were capable of saving someone from themself. It wasn't because she was arrogant or self-absorbed, but simply because she thought that if she tried hard enough and believed in me enough, I could fix myself. I proved her wrong at the end of our junior year of high school.

What weighed more on the scale: my desperation or my guilt?

The night became progressively blurrier with each passing the hour. At some point, Rowena confiscated the fifth of vodka and assigned Syd to babysit me after I shooed her away. Syd's tenure didn't last longer than a half hour, though. I performed my best sobering-up act, and he cut me some slack, leaving me to sit on the steps of the front porch.

Tears pricked in my eyes as I tilted my head up to look at the twinkling ensemble of stats, burning beautifully in a place where nothing could harm them other than themselves. They were their own demise, just like me.