Kiara and Trevor being hounded by paparazzi above.

duende

(n.) the mysterious power of art to deeply move a person

Getting up on stage and grabbing the microphone, Kiara took a calming breath as she steadied her nerves. She squinted against the spotlights, finding Trevor's face in the crowd as he smiled encouragingly. She ignored everyone else, focusing solely on him as the faces around him blurred away. The first few notes of 'Brother' by NEEDTOBREATHE played as she closed her eyes and let the melodic tune envelop her. Gripping the microphone tightly, she softly sang the first few sombre tones of the opening verse. She could practically feel Vijay watching over her, the words shooting straight to her heart as they wrapped her in a warm embrace. By the end of the song, she felt that warmth slowly seep away as if he had faded away from her. This was her farewell. 

Looking out into the audience, Kiara spotted Trevor grinning widely as he clapped with a suspiciously silver sheen lining his eyes. The rest of the audience followed along and she slowly came to the realisation that she was far from alone. Stepping off stage, she accepted his hand and squeezed in thanks as they sat through the next few performances. 

Landing in America only the day before, it had been his idea to sign her up for a performance, knowing how she felt things so deeply. He had surmised that she could understand her thoughts and feelings best through means of art so realised performing was the best way for her to relieve any of that grief and anxiety she felt about returning to America. Walking out of the café, she sighed in exasperation as paparazzi swarmed them. Immediately moving to shield them, Trevor's men and Jimmy guided the two to the car as people spouted intrusive questions at them.

He chuckled and murmured under his breath, "And here I was thinking we lost them."

She shook her head and retorted back, "Should've known better, Ant."

"I really should've."

Out of habit upon noticing him bristle as another camera shoved into his face, she warned, "No violence, Jay."

That single error seemed to have fractured what little semblance of normality Kiara had carefully constructed as Trevor awkwardly cleared his throat. She had long since claimed that he and Vijay shared far too many qualities and perhaps that was why they argued so often. Though it was in moments like these that Trevor realised just how true her observations were.

Smiling softly so as to move on quickly, he joked, "But that's where all the fun is."

Shooting him a relieved look for not dwelling on the mistake, she craned her neck around and shouted, "Anyone have a marker?"

An arm stretched out from somewhere behind Kiara, offering a neon pink sharpie that she accepted gratefully. She sent an appreciative nod in that general direction, hoping whoever had lent her the marker received her thanks.

Grabbing Trevor's hand and slapping the marker into his palm, she winked, "Have at it."

Following Kiara's train of thought, Trevor let out a bellowing laugh then brought the marker lid between his teeth as he uncapped it. Turning to grab the camera that had attempted to wedge its way between them, he pulled it towards him and autographed the lens before obnoxiously smirking. The photographer let out an outraged yell but they were already too far ahead as the crowd pushed back against him.

Within the past week, various photos of the two had circulated the internet as the public speculated on whether the People's Actress and the notorious billionaire businessman were romantically involved. Having been associated in the press for years now, it was no surprise that seeing them together this frequently had led to such assumptions but Kiara was growing sick and tired of people forcing their opinions on her. 

To make matters worse, she knew Chris would hear false rumours and dreaded the aftermath. It had been roughly four to five months since they broke up and try as she might to forget or move on, the ache of heart break never subsided. She couldn't help but be nervous at the prospect of seeing him again– and this time with Trevor in tow. Now safely in the car and on the way to his hotel, he cautiously observed her, worried at the lack of communication.

She nervously rubbed at her wrist and stared out the window, simply watching the trees speed by, letting out a heavy sigh, "I don't know if I can do this."

He narrowed his eyes and scoffed, "Then give up."

Kiara whipped around to face Trevor in surprise, though she was met with nothing but genuine affection and trust.

He wore a determined expression as he spoke with candour, "I'm not saying abandon your sense of self, I'm saying give up on fighting alone."

"But you're the one who told me to be confident in myse–"

"Let me help you carry the burden as you have done countless times for me."

"But I–"

"You. Are. Not. Alone," he growled in frustration.

"Fine," she sighed heavily; "what's the plan?"

"I'll stay a little longer."

Over the past two weeks, Trevor had conducted as much of his business transactions virtually and left any other deals for his consigliere to handle. While he trusted Prakash implicitly, it by no means eased his conscience so Kiara recognised the urgency for his return. She was grateful that Trevor was familiar with this degree of scrutiny but that still didn't ease the feeling of guilt for having disrupted his life.

Raising a brow, she suggested, "Two days."

"Ten days," he bargained.

"Four days."

Sensing Kiara needed the support for her first public appearance but also wanting her to find her own feet without him, Trevor compromised and convinced her to let him remain long enough to accompany her on the first red carpet event.

"One week," before she could protest, he added; "Don't even try it, the Emmy's are in four days."

Throwing her hands up in concurrence, she quipped, "Fine, fine. Respect the elderly and all that."

"Shut the fuck up, squirt."

"You first, gramps."

Arriving at the hotel, Kiara quickly shot Kabir a text, wincing at the PR nightmare awaiting him when the photos of them heading into a hotel together circulated. Looking around Trevor's suite, she grimaced at the overpriced and grandiose style, knowing he chose it not for any personal appreciation but largely to maintain his reputation. Successful men were high rollers in tailored suits, always impeccably put together with ostentatious lifestyles. 

They went about their business for the next hour, her meeting various organisation heads to arrange humanitarian aid excursions while he forged new alliances within the financial world. Eventually the two retired to the living room, resorting to ordering in room service for dinner after overworking themselves. Trading war stories of triggering political unrests and befriending kingpins.

Shaking her head at the incredulity of his antics, she huffed, "What? So you just ghosted Daiki Bushida? Chairman of 'Xin'?"

Arms crossed as his poor button up strained against his muscled bicep, he cocked a brow, "Hey, I just stopped entertaining mediocrity. Although, with inadequate and overly expressive conversation skills, should he really be surprised that he wasn't mentally stimulating?"

"You realise he has connections in the Yakuza, right?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, Trevor didn't bother to reply and instead smoothly transitioned into a new avenue of conversation. If he ever grew serious, it was only around those he wholeheartedly trusted. Contradictory to the very nature of this characteristic, it was one of the few times when he truly let his guard down. In public, he was laid back and carefree, as if nothing mattered to him. That was the persona he chose to display in order to ensure his competitors and clients underestimated him, assuming he was careless or unintelligent.

Hesitantly broaching a topic she had been mulling over for weeks, Kiara asked, "What's going on between you and Alia?"

Choking on his drink, he spluttered out, "N-nothing, what d-do you mean?"

She raised an unimpressed brow and sarcastically snorted, "Yeah, real convincing. Ant, I love you like one of my own but Alia's my best friend. You hurt her and I'll repay it ten times worse."

He narrowed his eyes, "Was that a threat?"

"It's a warning."

"Then you have my word that I have only the best of intentions."

A few tense seconds passed between them as Kiara considered Trevor's words before sighing and giving in. She knew him well enough to trust his word but he supposed her doubts weren't unfounded after having witnessed his womanizing tendencies first hand.

Holding out a hand, he smirked, "Care to play a game of basketball with me?"

She frowned, "Fuck off, you always beat me."

"Then all the more reason for you to keep practicing."

"No sneaky tricks this time," sighing heavily, she accepted his hand and stood up.

He gasped in mock-surprise, "I would never." 

Reluctantly joining Trevor for a basketball game, they dodged and swerved around each other as Kiara continued missing every time she lunged out to steal the ball. He once told her that through the unending despair of his childhood, playing basketball reminded him of his strength. It tethered him and proved that consistent effort could overcome any challenge. There was a part of his soul that needed it to express himself in that innate language everyone was born with– the one possessed before learning words or culture. It was the part of him that was born to feel freedom in movement and delight in strength. So she continued playing, entertaining his offer regardless of her miserable track record against him.

By the time the clock struck midnight, Kiara was well and truly exhausted. Earning a measly score of five against Trevor's sixteen, she was putting on a pathetic display of athleticism and each second that trickled by only further emphasized the gap in their skills.

Raising her hands in surrender, she flopped down on the bed, "And that's my limit."

He pouted mockingly, "Giving up so soon?"

"Would you mind not talking to me right now? I'm busy breathing."

"Now that's just lazy," he laughed.

"Play a game of football with me and tell me how it feels."

"You can fuck right off."

Absentmindedly tossing the ball back and forth between each other, Trevor and Kiara came up with a game plan for the coming days ahead. Anyone could sense her unease from miles away but the prospect seeing Chris again weighed heaviest on her mind. First that authoritarian of a father, then her maniac of an older brother and now this imbecile of a boyfriend. It seemed the men in her life never stopped letting her down, scarring her heart in the process.

Wanting to get her mind off the inevitably heart-wrenching reunion, Trevor murmured, "So... Cillian Murphy, huh?"

She smiled weakly, "Of course you'd already know."

"I have my sources. Want to tell me about the project?"

"It's a movie about a family struggling to support their clinically depressed father."

There was a pregnant pause as he realised the parallels to her life, "I can see why you liked it."

"Yeah..."

"That actually sounds like a book I've read... I think it was 'Imagine Me Gone'."

"Wow, sounds just as dark and gloomy as you."

I've been in kind of a writing rut these past few weeks because I've got so many ideas but so few opportunities to incorporate them or it's just difficult to articulate the scenarios into words. Hopefully I did this chapter justice so please, please, please don't forget to vote and comment! Thank you!!!