Love Through LimeLight (5 page)

“Are you sure that you know what you’re going to make?”
Giulia doesn’t bother to keep her voice smooth and even this time. Instead, she
practically laughs with her excitement, and I can’t help but mirror her
enthusiasm.

After my break-up with Barry and firing Arianna, I’ve been
in a weird place mentally. It was good and I am happy but at the same time I
feel a little lost. Without the safety net of my old life and some of my bad
habits, I’m not entirely sure what to do with all of my boundless energy. I
need direction that won’t turn me into a fifty-year-old workaholic. I can’t
just live for my business goals but at the same time, it isn’t realistic for me
to throw myself into my romantic life.

I need to do something that will strengthen me as a person
without relying on anyone else. As much as I love Johnni and know he will be
there for me if I need him, I have to be independent. That’s just who I am.

“I have a rough idea. Even if I’m not sure, I can always
just start again, right?”

Giulia nods. “Exactly. Don’t worry about making everything
perfect. It’s okay to mess up a little. If you want to, we can stay here all
night.”

We aren’t meeting in her office as we usual do. Instead, I’m
sitting on a concrete floor in the middle of a nice but empty art studio. There
are smears of paint and discarded swatches of fabric all over the place. Giulia
has pushed me through the big, metal doors on the opposite side of the room and
told me to go to what called to me.

I don’t know why I ended up at the little table across the
room. It is nondescript, almost plain compared to the bigger tables with their
brightly colored ornaments. It is obvious that I could have picked almost any
art project in this large room. There are paint and sewing equipment. There is
also what looks like a glass-blowing shelf a little further down, but the heavy
apron I would have to wear for that made the thought almost as exhausting as
the actual action would be.

I sat down at this little table instead, finding a lump of
clay and a bucket of warm water waiting for me. Is it warm because Giulia knew
it was what I would pick? I don’t know and right now I don’t care.

I take a handful of the clay and press it into my palm. It
squishes easily and I wet the tip of my fingers before I scoop up more and add
it to the collection. Giulia explains the logistics of the molding but I catch
on pretty quick and after a few minutes she wanders off in another direction.

I hear her behind me, humming while she takes colored
pencils to a giant canvas. I smile at the sound because this is the first time
I’ve seen my therapist so relaxed. She’s usually dressed to the nines in pencil
skirts and professional blouses, but today she’s wearing jeans and a well-worn
but clean T-shirt. I know this is part of my therapy and that she wants me to
relax and find an outlet for my pent-up emotions, but it almost feels as if I’m
out with a girlfriend, just having a good time.

As I work the clay in my hands, I warm it with my body heat,
giving it an even smoother appearance. The action is almost sexual in nature
and before long I find myself strangely aroused by the way my hands slide over
the smooth surface. As I work, I realize that this must be the heart of all
art. This is me, my special brand of energy and interest, poured into something
that people can see. Something that people can touch.

I’m taking the most secret parts of me and making them
tangible in the world. Somehow, that truth makes me more excited and focused
than anything else.

I think about the way I’m spending my time, unwinding in a
manner that never would have crossed my mind. In the past, when I wanted to
blow off steam I would have hit a club. A few hours of drinking and dancing
would relax me even more than a workout by itself. I might even pick up a guy
and let him give me a few orgasms while I settled my mind and body into a new
rhythm.

But that isn’t me anymore. That isn’t what I want. I have
grown up a lot in the last couple of months. No, I’ve grown up in the years
since
Cheer Battle
. I’ve become a powerful woman. A woman to be feared
and respected.

The clay warms again, strengthened by my mental resolve. I
make a pleased noise in the back of my throat and somehow I feel as if the clay
responds to that. I don’t know how it knows but it’s almost like telepathy and
I connect to what I’m creating in an almost spiritual sense.

I lean back against the chair and root myself deeper in the
moment. My old fears and concerns melt away as I press my fingers to the clay
and work it to my specifications. Before I realize it, I’m grinning from ear to
ear, truly enjoying the experience.

“Do you want me to take a look at what you have?” Giulia’s
voice startles me out of my concentration and I look up. My shoulders twinge
with pain and I roll them, slightly confused.

“Oh yeah. You were in the zone, weren’t you?” Giulia taps
the designer watch on her wrist. “It’s been almost two hours. You’ve barely
looked up from that table.”

Two hours? I jerk at her words. It doesn’t felt like that
much time has passed. In fact, it feels like only ten or fifteen minutes have
gone by since I sat down. I stand up slowly and the truth of her words is
undeniable. My feet are asleep.

“You know, if you really like what you’ve made, we can put
it in the oven. That’s how pottery and statue carving work. You mold what you
want and then if you like it you keep it. If you don’t, you start again.”

I turn back to the table and glance at what I’ve been
making. A sharp laugh leaves my lips and Giulia raises an eyebrow. She can’t
see what’s behind my back and she’s polite enough not to try to peek. But I
know her curiosity has to be getting the better of her.

“I…” I look back at my creation once more and smile. “Yeah,
I think I’d like to keep it.”

Giulia claps her hands together and instead of going around
me to see my creation as I expect, she goes to the other side of the room and
prepares the kiln. “It’s already on,” she explains. “But we need to make sure
to prep it properly.”

I watch her as she gets the giant oven ready for my
creation. While she does that, I turn back to it. A smile spreads across my
face. I have never understood why anyone would spend a large amount of money on
something that you only look at. But now I am starting to get it. The sheer
pleasure I get out of looking at this thing that I created with my own hands,
makes me deliriously happy.

It relaxes me just as surely as any of the massages I’ve
gotten in the past. This is something I made with my own two hands and it
represents me.

I smooth my fingers along the surface, slightly reshaping
the clay.

Giulia finally looks over my shoulder and giggles. She claps
her hands. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

I tilt my head back and grin right back at her. In my hands,
I am holding a clay sculpture of two perfect breasts. They are a mirror image
of mine, heavy and perky.

“I think this is a good thing, Fallon. You have really
touched on something deep about yourself with this piece.”

I blush at her compliment. “Are you saying that I like boobs
so much that I made a pair to play with?”

“Oh no. And I think you know exactly what I meant, you’re
just embarrassed.” Giulia takes the sculpture from me and I almost ask her to
be careful. I don’t want them broken before I have the chance to really enjoy
them.

Just that thought is enough to make me blush. My sexuality
has always been something that was important to me. While I was shaping the
sculpture I had felt empowered by reveling in it. But now it feels like
something to be kept under wraps. I’m not sure why.

Maybe the confines of how society views sexuality are
something that I will never be able to shake. Maybe the only way I will ever be
completely free to explore what I really want is in the underground of New
York. Barry flits across my mind again and I immediately push him away.

I won’t settle for anything less than absolutely everything
I deserve.

“It’s going to take a little bit for the clay to completely
bake. Once it does, it will be beautiful, shiny, and smooth.”

That thought makes me smile. I push my embarrassment to the
side and try to simply enjoy the way it makes me feel to have created something
that makes me happy. There’s nothing to be ashamed of and I don’t want to feel
that way about my creation.

Giulia puts her hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you take a
little time to yourself? You were working so hard on your sculpture that I’m
not sure you really took any time to think about the current situations that
are bothering you.”

I shake my head. “No, I’ve had plenty of time to consider
what’s happening. I know that I basically have to make big changes in my life
that reflect the things that are already different.”

“And are you excited about doing that?”

“Hmm. I don’t think that excited is the right word. I’m
nervous. Maybe even a little scared. I’ve always lived a certain way. Even when
we were first discussing the possibility of me taking on the mainstream media…I
hadn’t realized that I would be basically reinventing myself.”

Giulia tilts her head to the side. “Are you really doing
that, though?”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “I’ve said it before but I think that you have
always been the kind of person you are now. You’ve just always been surrounded
by people trying to keep you from realizing your maximum potential.”

I sigh. “You’ve said things like this before. I’m not really
sure what I’m supposed to say in response. How are you so sure about this? You
keep talking about all of this potential you see within me but then why has no
one else seen it?”

“Are you sure no one else has seen it? You know better than
most that sometimes people just want to destroy good things.”

I stop to consider her words. Johnni is the only person I’ve
been able to rely on this way, but she’s right. I’ve had many people in my life
who seemed to only be happy when they were making me unhappy. As if they really
didn’t have anything they would rather be doing.

As if destroying me was their only mission in life.

It hasn’t worked, ever. I have always met that opposition
with grace and poise. That old saying about catching more flies with honey than
vinegar is entirely true. I keep a level head and maintain my cool when I meet
people who want to hurt me.

That has been my secret weapon against people who wanted to
beat me. And by fighting them, I’ve grown even stronger.

Giulia is right. I’ve always been this person. Instead of
hating the people who have to hurt me, I find myself feeling thankful to them.
They have been integral to making me powerful not only in the business world
but in my sex life. Emotionally, I may be confused but I am still stronger than
anyone I’ve ever met.

Because of them.

“I get it,” I whisper to Giulia. “I do.”

I look back to the kiln and smile.

My face hurts from the wide smile I have had plastered on
for the last six hours. My eyes sting from the flash of multiple cameras but I
force myself to keep from closing my eyes.

What must have been the hundredth reporter today pushes a
microphone into my face. I answer the same questions almost automatically and
direct him to my new administrative assistant for publication permissions. My
feet ache and the jewels on my dress rub against my sensitive skin, creating a
red irritation that is hidden by the fine material.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Johnni is suddenly behind me, his heavy
arm draped over my bare shoulders. The rapid flash of bulbs lets me know that
the vultures around us are capturing every minute of his casual familiarity
with me but I don’t care. I’m too tired to care.

I don’t turn to look at him, instead waving to the crowd of
people standing next to the red carpet. Security keeps my fans from stampeding,
but the surge forward requires a hastily refortified barrier.

“Is it that obvious?”

Johnni slides in next to me and joins the procession of
actors and actresses. “No,” he responds lightly. “It’s not obvious; I just know
how irritating those precious gems can be.”

We laugh because we both know how many hoops he’s jumped
through in order to make the gown in the first place. It isn’t the section of
fashion he specializes in and branching out—especially in such a big way—is
typically frowned upon in the industry.

I am wearing over eighteen million dollars’ worth of
diamonds at once. My dress alone was sewn with the thinnest gossamer thread and
it feels as if it could float away at any second. I am amazed at how sheer and
airy it feels while still being heavy and constraining.

“Oh yes, they’re absolutely a drag,” I say sarcastically. We
both know how much I love it. Anything this high-end could only be for me. It
is what I was born for and I am deeply touched that Johnni picked me to debut
his upscale female clothing line.

“No doubt none of the wannabes will even bother to copy this
one. It’s too much.”

Johnni nudges me with his shoulder and directs my attention
to one of the women in the crowd struggling to get to me. My jaw drops.

I’ve been wearing this dress in particular for less than an
hour. Before that, the design had been kept carefully under wraps. Even while I
was changing into it, only a select few people had been able to be anywhere
near my dressing room. The fashion business is as glamourous as it is cutthroat
and designers have to work hard to keep their secrets. Since Johnni segued into
design and I became his leading lady, my security has been tripled.

That’s why seeing a woman wearing a cheap knock-off of my
dress floors me. I know my eyes go wide as I take in the slap-dash attempt at
mimicking what I am wearing. The materials are cheap and even from this
distance I can tell that the gems she is wearing are glass. Still, it shocks
me.

“That was quick.”

Johnni shrugs and grins. “That just means that it’s a really
good design. You’re going to be on all of the covers tomorrow.”

I blow a tense breath out but immediately straighten my face
back into a serene smile. “We both know that was going to happen anyway.”

Johnni loses some of his good cheer, a serious expression
replacing his goofy grin. “Yeah, well that’s what happens when you make such a
momentous announcement out of the blue.”

I run my hands down the luxurious sides of the gown and try
not to worry my bottom lip. “I know. You should have heard the way the
reporters gasped. It was like something out of a movie.”

“I like your choice of words there, since you basically told
the film industry that they could fuck right off.”

I laugh because Johnni almost never swears. But he’s right.
I didn’t make any friends this morning and I am sure to have made at least one
enemy. “I know, I know. But it was the right thing to do.”

Johnni scoffs. “How is announcing that you won’t be doing
any more modeling or acting deals the right thing to do?”

I pat his shoulder to remind him where we are. Johnni makes
a face that tells me he doesn’t care and I smile. He has to worry about
appearances just as much as I do but when it comes to something that could
endanger me, he doesn’t think twice about making a scene. I love him for that
but I don’t want any more trouble. That’s the whole point. “I didn’t say that I
wouldn’t be doing
any
shoots. I said that it was time for me to step
back. I don’t need it any longer.”

Johnni shakes his head. “You should have talked to me before
you made such a giant decision.”

This time I do bite my bottom lip. The worry in his voice is
completely for my benefit but I can’t help but wish I could make it go away. “I
knew you would just try to talk me out of it.”

He huffs. “You bet your firm but supple booty I would have.
No one does what you did, Fallon. You took the mainstream entertainment
industry by storm. Actually, you were the storm. You blew in and changed
everyone’s perceptions of porn. You changed rules and flipped tables. You are
at the top of the pyramid.”

He pauses to answer a few questions as another reporter pops
up beside us. The questions are all about me and the gown I’m wearing, and
Johnni answers them with ease and charisma. While I watch him go through his
questions, I wonder why he never went into show business himself. He’s
certainly handsome enough for it, and he’s got the right charm. I wonder if he
knew how ruthless the entire entertainment world was from the get-go and had
decided not to toe that line.

I wonder if I would have done the same, had I known what I
was getting into.

I shake myself out of such gloomy thoughts and force another
smile. My feet are throbbing with each step in my disgustingly high heels and I
focus on putting one foot in front of the other for a moment.

When Johnni returns, he’s wearing a smile just as forced as
mine. “You can’t just do that and then walk away.”

“Why not?” I ask and wince when I hear how weary my voice
sounds.

Johnni doesn’t miss the dip in my tone. “It’s like barging
into a mafia room and telling them they’ve been doing it wrong…only to be
right. You can’t just leave after; it makes them look bad.”

“Ha ha ha, why would they complain about that? I would think
they would just be grateful that someone came in to help. I’m basically a fairy
godmother at this point.”

Johnni laughs at the craziness of my comment and I grin at
him. He opens his mouth to respond but it cuts off when someone shoves him to the
side. Another pair of hands drags him backward before I can respond.

“How could you?!” A man dressed in jeans and a thin T-shirt
shoves himself into my space and grabs me by the shoulders. He’s amazingly
strong and he shakes me for a moment, screaming “Why?” in my face.

I am stunned. How did this crazy man get to me? Security
here is tight. Even as I grow dizzy I look around, desperate to find one of my
bodyguards. As I take in my surroundings, I begin to understand.

At some point while I was talking to Johnni, the size of the
crowd had doubled. The roar of the crowd is deafening, and I hadn’t even
realized something abnormal was happening. I must be more exhausted than I
realized. Or maybe I had just gotten so used to screaming excitement when I
appear that I didn’t put two and two together.

My security team struggles to keep everyone at bay and I
realize that none of the other actors and actresses are being mobbed in the
same way. Their lighter security force surrounds them, protecting them from
people who aren’t even looking at them.

Even though I have three times as many bodyguards as all of
them, mine are being hard pressed.

“Help!” I scream toward one of my fellow actor’s groups. The
man continues to shake me, knocking me to my back on the ground. No one does
anything.

Sheer terror makes my body numb. It is as if I have stepped
outside of the situation and am seeing it from the outside for just a moment.

From that distance I see everything.

My security force tries to make its way to me but the crowd
keeps them pinned down. Johnni screams my name, fighting to get to me, but four
brawny men drag him into the waiting crowd. My supposed “peers” look on with a
twisted sort of glee in their eyes. Their thoughts are written clearly on their
plastic faces.

…serves her right.

How dare she think she can step away from this?

This is what you get…

…thinks she can make a fool of us.

I hope he kills her.

Whore.

Pain assaults me, dragging me back into my body. The crazed
man bites my shoulder hard enough to draw blood. I scream, unable to block the
pain as I kick and claw, trying to get him off me. Panic makes my breathing
heavy and desperate and I hear the material under me rip.

“These are d-diamonds! Take them. This dress is worth so
much m-m-money.” I barely manage to say the words through teeth chattering with
fear.

The man doesn’t respond at first, just leans down and bites
me again. He’s making his way closer and closer to the exposed swell of one of
my breasts. The terror in my brain shifts and morphs into an unholy fear. Am I
about to be raped in front of this animalistic crowd? The dress tears again and
more of my skin is exposed. Bile rises up in my gut, burning my throat.

“I don’t want jewels.” The man says in a low, venomous tone.
“You’re worth more than all the diamonds in the world.”

I gag and he leans down, opening his mouth above the top of
one of my breasts. A scream like nothing I’ve ever heard leaves my throat just
as the man is jerked back violently.

My vision is blurry. I think I may have blacked out for a
moment but I can hear an eerie kind of silence. No. The silence is a backdrop
to the most sickening thuds and grunts I have ever been forced to listen to.

Bones break and shatter. Muscles pop. Lungs deflate.

By the time the beating—for that’s all that it could be—is
done, no one is speaking. I fear for a moment that no one is
breathing
.
It’s as if I am standing in the center of a football stadium where everyone is
suddenly holding their breath.

A dark, deep voice penetrates the darkness. A beautiful
accent washes over me, even as it barks a brutal command. “Get her to a
hospital. Now!”

The lights go out behind my eyes and I know nothing else.