Page 47 of Let’s Make a Scene

“Shit,” Jack exhales. “That’s… I’m sorry, Cynthie. That’s… really wrong.”

I turn to get a good look at him, and I’d forgotten that he was so close, close enough for me to see the concern softening those sharp blue eyes, the way his mouth pulls down, the small crease between his brows as if he was sad and angry. It’s dangerous being this close to his face. It makes me want to run my fingers along his jaw. I can already imagine exactly how his skin would feel under my fingertips. I bet he’d taste even better than a bag of M&M’s.

Warning sirens are wailing somewhere in the back of my mind, but I want to ignore them a while longer. I watch as his irises are overtaken by his rapidly dilating pupils, like drops of ink spreading in blue water, and I wonder if he lied, because from where I’m sitting, he looks pretty stoned to me.

“What about you?” I ask, and the words are rusty, like I haven’t spoken for hours or days or weeks. Maybe I haven’t… Time is doing something wavy right now.

His face snaps back, farther away from me, and I pout. I liked it close.

He looks at my mouth, presses his lips together in a firm line. He shakes his head, as if to clear it, puts a bit more careful distance between us.

“What about me?” Jack repeats, confused.

I’ve almost lost the thread of conversation, but I grab at it before it slips through my fingers. “Where did you learn to sing like that?”

“Ah.” He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, a gesture I’ve noticed he makes when he’s uncomfortable or embarrassed. “I had singing lessons as a kid. All part of my stage training.”

I mull this over. “Is it strange?” I ask. The question is one I’ve been wanting to pose for weeks now. “Being born into it like you were?”

He exhales. He’s quiet for a long time, long enough that I think maybe he won’t answer, but his posture softens; he leans back, bracing himself on his elbows and looking into the bonfire. “I don’t know how to answer that,” he says in the end. “It’s all I’ve ever known. But… yeah… yeah, I think it’s probably pretty strange. It feels like a lot of pressure, a lot of the time.” He laughs, but it’s a sad sound. “All the time, actually.”

I frown. “That doesn’t sound very fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah.” I gesture expansively at the scene around us. “This is just… so much fun, right? Making this film. Being here with these people. Getting to perform and play and make something beautiful. It’s the most fun I’ve had in ages. Maybe ever.”

He falls back into silence, but I don’t mind. I think I could sit here like this forever, somewhere between the cool ground and the wheeling stars overhead, with Jack beside me. It’s strange to feel peaceful around him; it’s never been like that with us before. Normally, I feel like there’s some sort of caged animal inside me, throwing itself against the bars.

“I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t working toward this,” Jack says, breaking the quiet between us.

“Me neither,” I reply, and we’re talking more softly now, sharing secrets. “I decided I wanted to be an actor when I was a kid, but it was like… like telling people I wanted to be an astronaut. They just rolled their eyes. No one believed I could do it. Only me. And Hannah.”

“I don’t remember deciding at all,” Jack murmurs. “It just always was.”

“What about your sister? Is she an actor?”

“Lee?” Jack’s brow furrows. “No. She hates all that stuff.”

“Then you must have chosen it,” I point out. “Or at least, she chose not to.”

He hums thoughtfully. “I guess so. My parents certainly put a lot of money and energy into getting me here.” He says this neutrally, although there’s something off about it.

“My dad doesn’t get it at all,” I say. “I mean, we never talk about it, but his silence feels pretty heavy. I always thought he resented it because it was my mum’s thing… singing, performing.”

“You and your dad aren’t close?” Jack asks.

I snort. “No.” When it seems like he’s waiting for more, I carry on, but it’s like pushing open a rusty door. “He isn’t really a natural at the whole parenting thing. And then when my mum left, he was sort of… stuck with me, I guess.” I try to shrug like it doesn’t matter, but maybe the drugs are leaving my system because I can’t quite pull it off. “Our relationship is a bit like… if your mum asked your next-door neighbor to keep an eye on you, and then she disappeared for twelve years.”

“That sounds… not ideal,” Jack says softly.

“Well, I have Hannah.” I smile. “And her parents. They live a few houses down from us, and she and I have been best friends ever since we were in nursery.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious you guys are close.” Jack chuckles drily. “She’s been giving me some good death stares these last few weeks.”

I laugh. “It’s nice to have someone who’s always on your side.”

“Mmm,” Jack makes a sound of agreement, but his face is sad, and I find that I don’t like that. I reach out, and wrap my fingers around his wrist. It’s a sudden gesture, unexpected, and both of us jolt.