Agony. That is what it was like being the subject of Luke Walker performing CPR. Because not only did I feel his lips like a burning beacon, enticing this little colorful moth to its flame, but CPR was repetitious, which meant I got to feel his lips several times— a delicious temptation. SEVERAL TIMES. An all consuming, all encompassing, repetitious, gloriously terrible temptation.

Which meant with Dustin's insistence that we redo the scene several times, I felt Luke's lips over, and over, and over, burning into my mind, burning into every part of me until it was all I could think of, until it was all I could feel.

My normal mantra of 'breathe, breathe, breathe,' was counter intuitive because I was supposed to be waterlogged— unable to breathe, breathless.

Luke was literally the breath in my lungs.

Finally, after the best acting I had ever done, which was literally me playing dead, and pretending that Luke's gentle touch and lips had ZERO affect on me, the CPR ended and I could finally move. And soon, I was bolting up to a sitting position and shooting water out of my mouth like a comedian doing a spit take.

How classy after what just happened.

I coughed, face red, not needing to pretend that I was flustered, because I was. I very much was. Pretending that Luke brought me back from a place of darkness didn't require much imagination on my part. I felt like I was on fire, and no amount of ocean water could cool me down.

Luke placed his hand on my lower back, helping me sit up, sending a jolt of electricity across my bare skin. "Whoa, easy. You okay?"

I continued to cough, fingers digging into the sand on either side of me, trying to regulate my breathing. His touch was too much, and holding my breath, my mouth full of water for that long had been agony.

"Deep breaths," Luke said, voice calm, yet firm, leaving no room for argument. A drill sergeant angel beckoning me towards a white warm light that I couldn't ignore.

Then I finally looked up at him, my eyes focusing on the world around me for the first time in what felt like eternity, making me realize how many scenes we had shot with my eyes closed.

The sky was on fire with color. Reds bled into oranges and yellows, which all seeped into hints of deep blue as the sun began sinking towards the water behind Luke. The frame of the fire around him made my heart ache. He was already beautiful, but the tapestry behind him made it hard to take him in. Too much beauty in one snapshot. My head felt dizzy.

He was shirtless, showcasing muscles that were almost obscene, alluring, tempting— so utterly gorgeous that it took several attempts to bring my eyes back up to where they were supposed to be. He wore board shorts, his skin coated in sand.

For a long moment, we both just stared at each other, eyes drinking in each others features, processing facial expressions, our lines forgotten, registering the change between us. A line that was crossed with lips.

The moment felt endless, long and full of unspoken words. Tentative, loud, and wild with possibilities. But one word seemed to burn, relentless between us. 

WANT.

Then we blinked, putting the pieces of the scene back together, falling back into character and out of ourselves. "Are you okay?" Luke asked, back in character.

No. Not at all...

"Yes..." I breathed, finding my voice. "Thank you."

He sighed, looking relieved. "Don't thank me. I nearly killed you." He reached forward and touched my forehead, now covered in fake blood, sending another brush of flame down my body. "You're bleeding." His fingers came away covered in sticky red syrup, concern flashing across his face.

"Do you remember your name?" he asked.

I blinked, pinching my nose, pretending to be in pain. "Yeah."

"And what is it?" he asked when I didn't reply.

"What is it to you? You don't know me, so I could literally say any name."

A surprised laugh fell out of him. "Fair." Luke rubbed the back of his neck looking embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even see you until the last second. Can you stand?"

The rest of the scene was filled with Luke's character helping my character get cleaned up, my character ignoring his kindness, and Luke's character trying to get my character to tell him about herself. Eventually he learns about the bar that my character works at, leading to our characters first kiss. The one that we would have already shot if Luke hadn't been poisoned.

"AAAAAND CUT!" Dustin shouted from where he sat in his director's chair along the beach, Ray-Bands propped up on top of his head, sending his blond hair poking out in all directions, making him look somewhat unhinged. He stared at a set of footage as it played back on a small, separate screen, making sure he got everything he wanted from the scene.

He nodded, satisfied, eyes still on the screen. "We are done for the day. Check your call times for tomorrow." Then pushing up from the chair, he smiled at everyone. "I'll see you all at the cast and crew dinner. You are all free 'til then. Don't go crazy."

Then he walked off, eyes on his iPad, scrolling through images, eyes on his next task.

...

I was in a haze as I moved down the hall towards my hotel room, my mind a mush of images. I was so distracted that I didn't even realize that I was sharing a room with another crew member until I collapsed on an empty queen bed next to where my suitcase sat.

I buried my face into a pillow and groaned loudly, overwhelmed.

"Wow... so good shoot so far?" a muffled voice asked.

I jolted up to a seated position, startled to find Lavender sitting on the opposite bed, dozens of outfits sprinkled out around her, her suitcase on the ground, empty. She offered me an amused eyebrow raise before going back to folding her clothes. "I take it the scene went well?" Lavender asked dryly.

I sighed, too tired to lie. "It was... a lot." 

The feel of Luke's lips left me itching to touch mine and I had to fight the impulse before I could look like a complete obvious idiot. But my face betrayed me, turning red, the kind of red that burned all the way up into my hair.

Lavender started to laugh, dropping a white blouse she had been folding onto her lap, throwing her head back as she did. There was something devastating about her laugh. Like the world had broken a piece of her, making every sound a little more tragic.

She offered me an amused smile. "Yeah... good luck with that. Those lips are deadly. They've taken down stronger girls."

My face found a way to turn redder. "He's annoying," I supplied not wanting to admit how on point she was.

Lavender sighed, leaning back on her elbows, her long legs hanging off the bed, toes painted her signature purple color. "That's one word for it," her sharp eyes were assessing. "What are you going to do with your free time before the cast dinner?"

It felt like a test, and I didn't know the rules to the question. Her eyes made me nervous as she waited for my answer.

I shrugged, trying to play off my nerves, flopping back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, deciding honesty was the best play. The world I worked in was already thick with lies. There was no point in adding to it. "Lay here and contemplate my life choices."

Her eyes were unreadable as she pushed several glistening brown strands off her shoulder with her long manicured fingernails. "Smart. I was going to suggest you take it easy. People tend to go a little... off the rails and burn out on their first shoot if they don't pace themselves. The veterans will try to push you if you let them. So pace yourself."

"Sounds like there is a story there," I replied, trying to get my hotel roommate to open up to me. I liked Lavender. She was real, honest. Not to mention she was one of the biggest reasons I was on the set. She had pushed for me even though she didn't know me.

Lavender offered me an uncertain smile. "Let's just say I struggled on my first shoot and it involved vodka, a Christmas tree and a whole lot of barf."

My eyes went wide as I sat up, gawking. "Woah, you weren't kidding. That's..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. The thought of picture perfect Lavender being anything but well... perfect, was strange. Like a Greek statue suddenly wearing neon yellow leg warmers. Utterly ridiculous. 

She nodded, brow puckering at the center, as the memory settled over her. "The best part was having the paparazzi finding out and it making page one of several dozen gossip magazines."

I couldn't keep eye contact at the mention of paparazzi. It was a foul word that I had helped give strength too.

"And then Luke came along..." Lavender paused, her fingers finding each other and twisting tight, like a life line of comfort. "He has a habit of making things better because the media loves him. So being around him... it was easy." She blinked, eyes clearing. Her fingers went back to folding, on auto pilot.

"But easy and real aren't the same." She picked up her clothes and began to put them into drawers with a sense of finality.

I sat up fully on the bed, watching her for a moment, trying to think of what to say. Her honesty demanded the same. "I never got to thank you... for putting in a good word with Dustin."

Lavender turned, offering me an amused smile. "You heard that, huh?" She went back to putting away clothes. "I shouldn't be surprised. Nothing stays secret on a set for very long."

"Thanks for what you said."

She laughed, the humor not touching her eyes. "Better you than me. Luke burns everything he touches. He's this bright beautiful boy that can't seem to touch something without forever changing it and then leaving afterward."

She shoved the drawer shut, cutting off the conversation, making it clear that she was done discussing Luke or her past with him.

Taking the hint, I closed my eyes, and did my best not to think about how easy it was to fall into thoughts of Luke. How being around Lavender served as a warning of a potential future I wasn't sure how to handle. Would Luke become a story that I warned future girls about?

...

The outdoor hotel restaurant was loud. Tall wooden beams held up a tiki roof, and showcased a large open floor plan filled with long tables and bench chairs for community eating. Sand from the beach spilled up into the restaurant, giving the wooden floor a grainy texture. The roar of the waves from the beach competed with the Jawaiian Reggae music that played.

The place was packed, people squeezed into long tables with large communal plates of steaming hot food, pitchers of cool tropical drinks, and loud conversations. Long strands of twinkle lights hung across the beams, giving the night a mystical feel. The air was hot, humid and full of an electrical hum of energy.

I squeezed my way into the restaurant and found our party, the table already packed with dozens of crew and actors. There were a few spots open at the end of the table across from Delle and next to Tate. Tate was shoveling a pound of food onto his own plate while Delle watched with an expression that could only be described as a mix between impressed and disgusted.

Dustin sat next to Delle, sporting a mischievous grin as he held out several large platters towards Tate, encouraging him to add more and more food onto his own.

Settling down next to Tate, I watched as he continued to shuffle food onto his plate like he was prepping for a food eating contest. "Your level of appetite is... insatiable," Delle muttered, watching with her elbow on the table, chin in her palm, brow raised.

"In more ways than one," Tate said with a smirk, earning himself a playful smack on the back of the head as Allie sat down on his other side, a wild blush filling her cheeks.

"Don't..." she said with a playful warning in her tone. Tate kissed her cheek, his smile wide, undeterred.

"I'll be good," he replied, going back to his food.

Delle yanked the plate out of Tate's hand, earning a cry of despair from him as she motioned for me to fill my plate. "Don't be rude. Save some for the others."

I offered Tate an apologetic look as I scooped food onto my plate, my mouth watering. Delle plucked up a pitcher filled with Mai Tai and poured me a drink. I sunk into the evening, watching the others around me fall into laughter and conversation, happy that I had carved out a small corner to call my own, even if it was only for a short time.

Tate ate more than everyone else, telling stories that had the table laughing. Dustin complimented different people for their hard work, mentioning each person by name, his tone warm. Delle added snarky commentary that had Allie's lips twitching into a smile. Lavender sat at the other end of the table, chatting with several of the makeup crew, their voices conspiratorial and giddy from half empty glasses.

I soaked it all in, enjoying this slice of normalcy as a piece of fish melted in my mouth. I was so consumed with the way I felt at home, that I didn't notice that Luke had taken the final seat next to me until he reached across me for a half empty pitcher of water.

"Not drinking?" Delle asked, always the detective.

Dustin snorted. "He doesn't drink. At least not while he's working."

"This isn't work," Tate reminded him.

Luke raised a brow, taking a long swig of water before answering. "Being around all of you is always work."

The table erupted into laughter as Luke smirked, making it clear that he was joking as he scooped food onto his own plate. 

"He used to be a lot more fun," Dustin said to the table with a sad smile as the song changed to an upbeat number. "Always the life of the party. Had a smile for every occasion." 

"He smiled?" I asked dryly. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard."

"He danced too," Dustin added, his smile growing wider.

Luke shot Dustin a warning look. "Times change Dustin."

"Impossible!" I exclaimed in a teasing tone. 

"Lies!" Tate agreed. "I need video evidence or it never happened!" he declared, skewering a slice of chicken and shoving it into his mouth with relish.

Conversation sparked to life again. But I was half distracted as I shuffled over to make room for Luke. But even with what room I could give, Luke's thigh was still pressed up against mine as he settled in at the very end of the bench.

I focused on eating, trying to look normal, even though I suddenly forgot what normal was.

"I'm surprised you came at all, considering your call time is at six am, Luke!" Dustin shouted over the music.

Luke gave him the side eye. "You pout when I don't show up to your attempts at bonding functions." Then he lifted a piece of fish to his mouth, his lips distracting me again. "I'll eat and then head out before you try to corral everyone into a trust exercise. I'll pass on the group hugs."

Dustin waved him off. "Spoil sport. We do our best work when we know each other."

Luke rolled his eyes, clearly uninterested in warm niceties and ate faster, hoping to avoid whatever warm hearted thing Dustin had planned. I held back a laugh, trying to imagine Luke doing any kind of bonding exercise. Walking around expressing warm fuzzies.

"You're picturing it aren't you?" Luke asked me, glancing in my general direction.

I turned and smiled up at him, fighting another laugh. "A little. It's funny."

His mouth quirked up at the side but he shook his head, leaning forward slightly so I could hear him better. "You say that now. Just wait until he has you sharing your life story with a bunch of strangers. Suddenly it won't seem so funny."

As the song changed again, Dustin leaned across the table, shouting to be heard. "Are you open to a little publicity?" Dustin asked, gesturing to the dance floor off to the side of the restaurant. 

I opened my mouth to say, 'HARD PASS,' when Dustin hurried on. "Delle has been working with you on the new number, right? I'm sure she'll do it with you." 

Delle started laughing, throwing back a drink with a large, dangerous smirk. "You know better than to volunteer me. I'll bite your head off if you suggest it again." 

Andrew, who I hadn't noticed before, wiped off his glasses with a cleaning cloth before offering Delle an encouraging smile. "I've never known you to back down from a challenge." 

She plucked Andrew's glass away from him and finished it off, staring at him over the rim. "Dancing is never a challenge."

"True... but you've never been a fan of an audience." 

Delle raised a brow, her tone dangerous. "I'm not afraid."

Andrew finished cleaning his glasses and put them back on his face, shooting Delle an amused expression, unfazed by the spark of anger in her eyes. "I didn't say you were."

"I really don't like you right now," she muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. 

Andrew's eyes sparked, clearly enjoying her irritation as he stole his glass back from her. "That's fine. I'll win you over again at some point. Right now, you need to focus on overcoming your fear of performing in front of others." 

Standing to her feet, Delle grabbed my arm and pulled me over to the empty dance floor, challenge clearly accepted. I stumbled after her, eyes wide. "Um... Delle... I didn't agree to this." 

She pulled out her phone and plugged it into a phone jack sitting next to the speakers. "Shut up and get ready to dance," she replied, teeth clenched. 

I couldn't help but laugh. "You are the worst at giving a pep talk," I said. "Like a very angry badger that was shoved into a cheerleading uniform." 

Delle whirled on me. "Don't EVER use me in such a stupid analogy EVER again." 

Then she hit play on the iphone with a sigh. "Let's get this over with so I can go die under a pile of blankets in peace." 

Then the pop song my character sings in the movie blared to life, sending everyone in the resteraunt turning around to stare at me and Delle as we settled into the middle of the dance floor. 

She offered me a tight smile. "Get used to it kid. The stares just get more intense the longer the spotlight is on you. A bug under a magnifying glass." 

We broke out into a set of pop moves as the music blared to life, our hands framing our bodies to a fast beat in perfect sync— all those practice hours paying off. Then we slid into our next set of dance moves as the music exploded into a faster beat, Delle shooting me a smile as I nailed a spin hip pop that had given me trouble before. 

People began to cheer and my confidence grew as Delle began to take liberties with the dance moves, adding complex detail. She ushered her assistant dance choreographer to the dance floor and soon, everyone who had been around, or had worked on the dance flooded the dance floor. I was pushed to the front, the cast and crew filling in the blanks behind me, all of them laughing as they stumbled through the moves, alive with excitment. 

I spotted Dustin sitting on top of the table, watching, arms crossed smiling with pride, and I finally understood what he had wanted. Publicity for the movie, yes. But he wanted his crew and cast to bond. To find a piece of home. We spent so much time together that if we could enjoy our time together whenever he called, "cut," he wanted to make it happen. Like a father that craved to take his kids on a bonding road trip, documenting every moment with an abundance of pictures. 

We were stuck together, so why not try to make the best of it. Dustin slid over to Luke and elbowed him, attempting to get him to come join, but Luke shook his head, watching all of us with an unreadable expression. 

Dustin said something, his brow puckering with frustration before giving up when Luke waved him off. I nearly stumbled over the next set of dance moves when Luke's eyes landed on me, throwing me off. 

I gave him a challenging look, gesturing to the spot open next to me. He shook his head, raising his glass of water towards me, making it clear that the dance floor and all the focus was mine alone to carry. I changed the dance moves for a moment, pretending to fish for Luke, earning a chorus of laughter from the restaurant as all eyes turned to see what he would do.

Luke raised a single brow, before reaching up to cut the fake fishing line, refusing to be "fished." The laughter continued, and Luke fought a smile, his lips twitching as I pretended to fall backward, loosing the fish that was Luke on my fishing pole. 

The music moved faster, and I jumped back into the choreography, spinning into a set of hip hop moves that had me sweating, body moving into a fast progression of moves that ended low to the ground. I braced myself as I popped back on my hands, into a hinge kick, doing my best not to flash anyone as the dance was never meant to be done in a dress. 

Then jumping back up, I ended with a tutting combo. The audience broke out into applause as everyone on the dance floor took up cheeseball finishing moves. I struck a pose and burst out laughing as Delle and I nearly collided as we slid to our knees in dramatic fashion. 

"Yes! You nailed it!" Delle shouted at me, punching me so hard in the shoulder that I winced. 

Then she turned and shouted towards the other dancers. "Now that is how you dance!" She walked over to Andrew who stood among the back row of dancers and pulled him into a kiss. I laughed, watching Andrew's surprised expression, his wooden framed glasses falling askew.

"I take it you decided you like me again?" he asked blinking in surprise once she let him go. 

She straightened his glasses. "Nah. I just like kissing you. You got some work to do before you get there."

Dustin clapped proudly, standing up on the table before I saw him mouth the words, "best trust exercise ever." I fell into laughter again, smiling at Luke as he gave an amused eye roll.

Then Luke cleared his throat, looking away, seeming to remember that he wasn't supposed to be enjoying himself.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, still smiling at the idea of forced trust exercises while everyone was buzzed on Mai Tai's and dancing. But at the sight of my most recent text message, my smile fell, all good humor gone. Everything around me seemed to vanish, the world loosing color as my phone screen came into view, the text loud and all consuming.

It was from my parents.

Emilia! We've been trying to reach you all day, but you must be busy, or ignoring us— don't do that! We are your parents after all. We are just so happy to hear that you've gotten such a well paying job! A movie star in the family! How exciting! Your famous now! Don't let it go to your head!

With your new financial success, it looks like we will be able to rest easy now that you can carry more. Give us a call when you get a chance so we can talk about it. All our love.

-Mom and Dad

I shoved my phone back into my pocket, disgusted, words from their message slashing across my view... 

"Now that you can carry more." 

"Don't let it go to your head." 

"We will be able to rest easy."

Suddenly, the laughter of the restaurant became grating, the food which was once warm in my belly now sat poorly inside of me, the music was warped, only wrong notes and tempos, and the Mai Tai's were no longer the escape I needed.

"Bermuda? What's wrong? ...Em?!?" a voice asked, cutting through the darkness for a moment before it all came crashing down again. 

My disgust turned to hurt, and soon I was on the move, leaving the dance floor, too angry and raw to explain why I suddenly needed air when I was already outside. 

---

Thank you for reading chapter twenty! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

Poor Em can't seem to catch a break! How will she handle her parents? 

What will she do next?

It looks like the cast and crew are bonding. Is one of them the one behind poisoning Luke? Will they strike again?

How will the rest of the trip go?

CHAPTER QUESTION - When something upsets you, where do you go to process it?