We're chasing the stars to lose our shadow

Peter Pan and Wendy turned out fine

So won't you fly with me?

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sunday, April 3, 2019

"I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, okay?" Hanna said, sniffling a little.

I smiled, close to tears myself. "I know. I'm gonna miss you, too."

"On the upside, though, you'll be a huge star and then you'll be able to get me into the biggest clubs. We'll all be your entourage."

I laughed. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."

"Hey, even if this whole movie doesn't work out—which it will, because, hey, you're great and Henry Cavill—we'll still be your entourage," Keegan said, stepping forward to give me a hug so tight I was afraid I might wake up with bruises tomorrow. "I'm gonna miss you, little sis."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, the tears really threatening to spill over now. I'd met Keegan when I moved to L.A. a few years ago, and we'd become really close since then. He'd joked once that he'd way rather have me as his sister than his actual sister, and ever since then we had kind of become like substitute siblings to each other—and he always tended to show his love by raiding my whole house for food. "I'm gonna miss you, too, Keegs. A lot."

He kissed my cheek and stepped away, letting his girlfriend say goodbye to me. "You're gonna be amazing, I just know it," Klarissa said, pulling me into a hug. "You're gonna be so amazing that you'll have lots of fan boys trying to find out where you live, and we'll all totally protect you when that happens."

I laughed. "Thanks. I really appreciate that."

Next up was Cynthia. "I am gonna miss my fangirl buddy," she said, "but just know that I'm totally gonna fangirl over you once the movie comes out."

Laughing, I hugged her. "I'd expect nothing less from you."

"I'm gonna miss you, babe," Colin said, hugging me and kissing me on the cheek. "Take lots of pictures of Henry Cavill for me, okay?"

"I will," I promised him, smirking. "And I'll miss you, too."

"What Colin said," Shaye told me with a grin. "Make sure there are some shots of his butt in there, too." She winked and pulled me into a hug.

"What if I get caught?" I asked, laughing.

She thought for a moment. "Tell him I'm doing a study on butts and that I asked you to send me a picture of his."

"A study on butts?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Hey, it's a thing. I think."

"And if it isn't, it totally should be," Braeden said, stepping forward to give me a hug. "Good luck in Miami, hon. And on the subject of taking pictures of butts, if you ever go to the beach..." He laughed as Shaye punched him in his arm.

"Yeah, sorry. I won't be furthering your perverted mind by taking pictures of girls' butts for you. Besides, you live in Venice Beach. There are lots of girls in bikinis there, too."

"Well, hey, it was worth a shot."

Ryley picked me up and swung me around. "You'll be greaaaaaat!" he yelled, his voice echoing over the entire outside zone of the Tom Bradley International Terminal. A businessman talking on his phone glared at us. Ryley set me back down and saluted the man, making me laugh. "But really, though," he said, turning to me again. "You are gonna be great."

I smiled. "Thanks. I'll miss you, Ry-Ry."

The only one I hadn't said goodbye to yet was Alfie, and he stepped toward me with his arms outstretched. I smiled as I gave him a hug, ruffling his sandy brown hair that always tended to fall into his eyes. "I'll miss you, Alfredo."

"I'll miss you, too, Jules. I'll even miss your annoying habit of calling me Alfredo."

I laughed. "Sorry. It's just one habit I'm unwilling to quit."

He smiled. "Go kick some ass in Miami. Good luck."

"Thank you."

I sighed, looking over all of my friends' faces. I would be gone for two and a half months, but it felt like it would be much longer. I would miss them all so much, most of all Hanna. It would be the longest time we'd be away from each other. When I decided to move from New Jersey to L.A., she didn't think twice and moved right along with me. She was the one I relied on most for advice and support. Hell, I even relied on her to pick out my outfit for important events—or well, events that were important to me. She was one of the only ones who really knew how to deal with my anxiety attacks. And just thinking about leaving her made me feel an attack starting.

She seemed to sense how much I would miss her, and said, "Oh, hell." She ran up to me and pulled me into another tight hug. "I'm gonna miss you so much, you fuck." The statement made me laugh through my tears.

Before I knew it, our other friends joined us in a huge group hug.

"If you ever need us, just call," Keegan said. "We'll have one giant Skype call or something."

"Thank you," I said, as everyone started to pull back again. "But seriously, though. You guys are the best friends a girl like me could even think to wish for. I love y'all."

"We love you, too, babe," Shaye said, smiling as she tucked a piece of her blood red hair behind her ear. "Now go and chase your dreams, you beautiful bitch."

I laughed, and my friends nearly shooed me into the terminal. I turned around to wave at them one last time, trying to remember their faces as they were now. My heart swelled at the pride in their eyes. Then I took a deep breath and walked into the terminal, dragging my suitcase after me as I left Los Angeles for more than two months.

I checked in and walked further into the airport. I ducked into a few shops, but found that shopping wasn't half as fun without Hanna. I did buy a bottle of perfume, though—Bonbon by Viktor & Rolf. I'd been lusting after it for a while, but had always convinced myself to be careful with my money. Now that my bank account held quite a few more zeroes because of my If You Love Someone salary, I could easily afford it. And hey, duty free shopping, so why not, right? I also bought a new moisturizer because mine was already almost gone, and then sat down at a small bistro to grab a bite to eat.

Once I'd eaten, I headed to my gate, even though it wasn't time to board yet. I sat in the waiting area, completely content to just read my book for a while. When it was time to board, I put a bookmark in my book and dug my boarding pass out of my handbag. Upon seeing the first class ticket, the lady checking it raised an eyebrow at my outfit (which was a simple pair of jeans and a graphic T-shirt—I knew there wasn't much wrong with it, but apparently it didn't scream 'designer'), but let me go through anyway.

I'd never flown first class before. The few times that I did fly had always been economy class, so seeing the seats in first class was almost like a culture shock. I wasn't used to so much luxury—let alone so much legroom. I was five foot eight, which wasn't extremely tall, but I was always worried about bumping my knees against the seat in front of me and annoying the person that was sitting in it. Now I wouldn't have to worry about that at all. I could stretch and kick my legs all I wanted, but I wouldn't come near reaching the seat in front of me.

Seeing my seat-mate however, was a bigger shock. (And it also made me regret not putting on anything nicer.) Sitting in the aisle seat was none other than Henry Cavill. He smiled up at me. "I was wondering when you'd show up. I saw you sitting in the waiting area, but you looked so engrossed in your book that I didn't want to disturb you."

"Don't I have the aisle seat?" was all I thought to say.

He laughed. "You do, yes. But I figured you'd rather sit by the window, so I switched seats. But if you'd rather sit here, that's completely fine too."

"Oh, no, this is fine." I placed my bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the window seat, tugging my shirt back down. I really was starting to regret wearing this shirt, and not only because I would be sitting next to Henry for the next five hours—I'd completely forgotten that this shirt tends to crawl up with each movement. "Anyway, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

Shrugging, he said, "I already fly so much; I've had a lot of opportunities to sit by the window. I figured you don't fly as often."

"I don't, no," I confirmed. "Especially not in first class. Ryan really wants his actors to be happy, huh?"

Henry's eyes sparkled. "I guess so, yes. Anyway, what are you reading?" he asked, gesturing at my book.

I blushed, remembering that the book I was currently reading was a book about a succubus, which was rather awkward to admit. "Uh... The Georgina Kincaid series," I answered, hoping he wouldn't ask the next obvious question. Which, of course, he did.

"What is it about?"

"Um..." I said, stalling for time as I thought about what I was willing to share about my peculiar choice of books. "It's about Georgina, who works for Hell, and then she falls in love with this really innocent human—a writer. It's about her trying to make the relationship work while also trying to keep the boss downstairs happy. It's a pretty good story, even though it probably doesn't sound like it with the way I'm describing it," I said, laughing nervously.

"Hey, to each their own, right? And it actually does sound kind of good."

"It is. Richelle Mead, the writer, has a really good writing style. She's one of my favorite writers, actually."

"Any other favorite authors? I already know you love to read."

I laughed, remembering the pile of books I'd been holding when I bumped into him at Barnes & Noble a little over a month ago. "What gave you that idea?" I joked. "I really need to invest in a new bookcase and I already have three of them standing in my bedroom. Now that I think of it, investing in a personal library might a better idea."

He laughed. "Is it really that bad?"

I tried not to look guilty but apparently failed, making him laugh again. "Yeah..." I admitted sheepishly. "And it's not also just the stories, you know? Even though that obviously plays a big part, too, but some of the covers are just so pretty. I know it's a total cliché, but I love the Harry Potter books, and I have the whole set three times, each set a different edition. It's embarrassing, really, my obsession with buying books."

"Hey, a lot of people collect things. Collecting books is probably the most common collection out there."

"Huh. I hadn't thought of it like that."

"So, Harry Potter and a book about a creature of Hell... Is it safe to assume that fantasy is your favorite genre?"

"I guess it is, yeah. But I like the classics, too. I really love Jane Austen, for example. I like romance novels. Young adult fiction..."

He smiled. "Is there anything you don't like?"

I thought for a moment. "I guess science fiction isn't really my thing. Nor do I like science fiction movies and TV shows. I don't really know why."

"Isn't Smallville science fiction?" Henry asked, an amused glint in his eyes.

"I mean, I guess, but I've always thought that stories about superheroes always kind of had their own genre, you know?"

"I suppose that's true enough."

The pilot's voice over the intercom told us that the plane was gearing up for takeoff, and I felt the usual bubble of nerves I always got just before flying. As the prerecorded safety plan sounded through the intercom, a male steward stood in front of the seats to point out the exits and show us how the breathing mask worked and all that stuff. I was always too distracted to pay too much attention to it, and now that Henry was sitting next to me, I couldn't think about safety at all.

He smiled at me, his blue eyes sparkling. I found myself fascinated by the little brown fleck in his right eye. "On to the next adventure."

I smiled back at him. "On to the next adventure," I agreed.

The plane started gaining speed, and I looked out the window, momentarily too distracted by the fact that we would be in the air soon to pay any further attention to my seat-mate. We didn't speak until we hit cruising altitude, and I tried to ignore the pressure in my ears. It wasn't so bad now, but I knew it was usually worse for me while descending. I stared in awe at the beauty that was Los Angeles, and eventually the rest of southern California.

When I was pretty sure we'd crossed into Arizona, I turned to Henry again, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry," I said. "It's just really pretty outside."

"It is," he said with a smile, and somehow, I had a feeling he wasn't talking about the sights outside.

I fought a blush and attempted to change the subject. "So you said you've flown a lot. Where have you been?"

I listened breathlessly as he recounted stories from his travels, from doing promotional work in Shanghai to filming his first movie in Rome. I drank up every word he said. I'd always wanted to travel the world myself, but never had the means. Listening to someone who had was like taking a drug—I just couldn't hear enough. But even when we'd exhausted that topic, we kept talking the entire flight. My book was entirely forgotten.

"So where are you from?" Henry asked me after he'd narrated stories of his time growing up on the island of Jersey, not far from the French coast. "California?"

"Uh, no, actually. I was born in Jersey. Or New Jersey, I guess I should say. I'm so used to calling it Jersey, sorry."

"It's okay. I've long since made peace with the fact that when people say 'Jersey,' they usually mean New Jersey," he joked.

I smiled. "Well, anyway, I moved to L.A. about three and a half years ago, when I realized the only thing I wanted to be was an actress. I always worried that that spontaneous move would come bite me in the ass at some point, most likely by way of me broke, begging my parents to let me move back in with them. But they were always very supportive of my decision, and I guess they were right after all. But if you told me three years ago that I would now be sitting in a plane on my way to Miami to film a giant budget project, I never would've believed you."

"Something tells me you aren't a very self-confident person."

I smiled sheepishly. "It's that obvious, huh?"

"Why?" he asked, toying with the tab on his soda can.

I shrugged, deciding that looking at his hands was better than looking into his eyes. "I don't know... I guess I've always been insecure. And, like, I know that I need to be sure of myself and my abilities to make it in this business—to even stay sane—but I kind of can't help it, you know?"

"Well, whoever made you feel that about yourself, they were wrong," he said, his voice sounding as determined as I'd ever heard it. It made me look up sharply, and I saw the sincerity in his eyes. "So far, I have found out that you're beautiful, gentle, funny, kind, and kind of an amazing person. And if our screen test was any indication, you're a great actress, too. And someday, you're going to believe in yourself as much as I already do, and then you'll be even more amazing."

I blushed, and tried not to cry. I didn't hear stuff like this often, especially not from someone like Henry, so this was kind of overwhelming, to say the least. "Thank you," I said, trying my damnedest not to let my voice crack.

"Anyway, to not so subtly change the subject, cats or dogs?"

I smiled at him gratefully, and then, before I knew it, a laugh bubbled up from my throat. "Definitely dogs. I find they're cuddlier and more playful."

"I agree with you on that. Do you have a dog?"

"I had one, but she, uh... she died shortly before I left for L.A."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Guess that wasn't as good a change of subject as I thought it was."

I laughed. "It's okay. And what about you? Do you have a dog?"

"I do, yeah. Actually, he's being flown over to Miami now, I think."

"Oh my God, really? I'd love to meet Henry Cavill's dog. Then I'll know I've really made it," I joked, and he laughed. "What's his name?"

"His name's Kal."

I stared at him for a moment before giggling. "Oh my God, that's amazing! You should've called him Krypto, though; Superman's dog's actual name."

"I actually thought about that, but decided to go with Kal because I liked it better. People always think his name is Kal-El, but it's actually really just Kal."

"What kind of dog is he? Like what breed?"

"He's an Akita," Henry said, a fond smile shaping his lips.

"A friend of mine has an Akita, too. But Lana's a girl. Which, funnily enough, is also a name from the Superman universe. But I can't wait to meet him. You seem to love him a lot."

His smile widened. "I do. I don't get to spend as much time with him as I would like, so I try to take him with me while filming projects as often as I can."

The pilot told us over the intercom that the plane would be landing soon, and we refastened our seatbelts as the flight attendants got ready for descent. Henry upended his soda and threw the can in the cart one of the attendants drove by. I threw my own empty can in it, too, having to lean past him. My arm accidentally brushed his chest (though I wasn't entirely sure it was an accident on my part), and a jolt of electricity made me sit up straighter in my seat. He gave me a questioning look, but I just smiled and went to stare out the window, watching Miami steadily drawing nigh.

Once we'd landed, everything kind of went by in a rush. We retrieved our luggage and were rushed out to the car that would bring us to the location where we'd be shooting If You Love Someone—but we weren't rushed out fast enough. A few photographers stood outside, and when they saw Henry coming out, they went nuts. The flashes on their cameras nearly blinded me, the shutters going off sounded extremely annoying, and they yelled out questions for him.

"Henry, who's the girl?" one asked. "She your new girlfriend?"

Henry just smiled politely for the cameras and put his hand on the small of my back, gently pushing me to walk a little faster.

Once we were in the car, sitting comfortably on the roomy backseat, I took a deep breath. "Wow. That was... intense," I said, for lack of a better word.

"You'd better get used to it," Henry said, a small smile shaping lips. "Before you know it, they'll be coming for you."

"That sounds really ominous, you know that, right?" I asked, laughing a little.

He laughed, too. "I hadn't meant to make it sound that way. But I suppose it kind of is. It's not really a change you'd want in your life, I think; creepy old men taking your picture and asking you questions. Sometimes they can be really offensive, too."

"Offensive?" I asked, my voice small as I remembered one of them asking if I was his new girlfriend. Did he find that question offensive?

"Yeah. But you just gotta keep your head held high and not let them get to you." He turned to the driver and asked, "How long until we reach the location?"

"About half an hour, sir," he answered politely.

"Okay, thanks. Well," he said, turning back to me, "sounds like we've got some more time to kill. Why don't you tell me three random facts about you?"

"Uh... All right, let me think." I studied his necklace as I thought. It was a simple coin on a chain. It sparkled beautifully when the light hit it just right. "I curse like sailor," I said, and he raised his eyebrows in disbelief. I smiled. "You just haven't noticed much of that because I've been keeping myself in. But really, ask any of my friends, and they'll confirm that I do. It's not very ladylike, I know, but I've grown to not really give a f—crap about that. See? I was holding myself in. I nearly dropped an F-bomb there."

He laughed. "You can say the word 'fuck' in front of me. I'm actually glad to know this fun fact. Now I can unleash my not-so-polite vocabulary, too. Anyway, second fact?"

"My parents were both born in the Netherlands, and they moved here in their twenties. They raised me bilingually, so I speak Dutch fluently."

"Really? That's amazing. You have to teach me a couple phrases sometime."

I smiled. "I will. And the third fact... My favorite cuss word is 'godverdomme.' It's Dutch for goddammit. But goddammit just doesn't convey the same amount of anger and aggression. It's the difference on how you pronounce the G, I think. The Dutch pronunciation of the G is a lot more vulgar; as if you're gathering up saliva to spit it out."

"Say it like you're really pissed off?"

I smiled. "All right... Godverdomme!" I said, putting extra emphasis on the god part.

He laughed, throwing his head back. "Amazing. And yeah, I can tell why you prefer that one to the English word. Goddammit just isn't as... intense as the Dutch version."

I shrugged, smiling. "Told you. So, tell me three facts about you."

"Uh, okay. Well, I was raised bilingually, too. Because Jersey is so close to France, a lot of people speak French, so we had to take French in school, you know? And a lot of people in Jersey speak it fluently, so..."

"So it makes sense for you to be able to speak French."

"Exactly. Uh, I also know how to order a beer in Czech."

I laughed. "Very, very important. Though I prefer a vodka soda over a beer any day. Know how to order that in Czech?"

He smiled. "I can always learn. So long as you teach me how to order a beer in Dutch."

"It's a deal. And for the third fact?"

"Um... I love history. Especially Greek history and Egyptology and stuff like that."

I felt my eyes widen. The more I got to know Henry, the more perfect he seemed to me. "That—is—so—cool. Me too. I especially love mythology. Like the Greek gods, Egyptian gods, how that influenced the cultures... It's all so fascinating. Every time there's a special on it on TV, like when they discover something new on a pharaoh they found, I can just watch it and forget all my surroundings. Sadly, though, there aren't enough of those specials. I always want to know more."

Henry was looking at me like he was seeing me in an entirely new light. "Exactly. Exactly what you just said."

I smiled. "Guess we have some things to talk about in-between takes."

"Yeah," he breathed, still looking at me with slightly wide eyes. He didn't stop staring at me like that until, almost a minute later, the car rolled to a stop.

"We're here," the driver said, and I was thankful for the interruption, not exactly sure how to act under Henry's scrutiny.

We got out of the car and were led to our individual trailers, which were right next to each other. We were told that, in about an hour, a P.A. would pick us up to take us to dinner with the rest of the cast so we could all get acquainted with each other. I said a quick goodbye to Henry and entered my trailer, not even paying attention to its interior as I found the nearest chair and let myself fall down in it. The better I got to know Henry, the more I realized he was the perfect guy for me, and I wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that realization.

Damn you, Henry Cavill.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lyrics at the start of the chapter are Fly With Me by the Jonas Brothers.

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