Aim High, Never Rest

That evening, I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror, contemplating my outfit choice while at the same time wondering when I had begun to care so much about my appearance. Maybe Hollywood was beginning to get to me.

Admittedly, the dress wasn’t something I’d usually wear, it was much too streamlined, fitted, and overly sexy, but hobnobbing with world renowned movie stars wasn’t something I did on a daily basis either, so I decided it suited the occasion. Another impulse purchase from my New Town High contract, the white sleeveless dress was something I had decided an upcoming starlet should wear, plus I had seen a photo of Audrina Patridge wearing something similar in a magazine, so I figured I’d experiment.

I guess in a moment of retail high temporary insanity I’d forgotten that I am not Audrina Patridge.

Though it hit a little further down on my thighs than it should, due to my shorter legs, I still liked the pleated fabric along the bodice because they reminded me of seashells, a small touch that brought me down to earth and made me feel more like myself. My bare shoulders still felt a little too-exposed, which was an odd feeling for me since I spent the majority of my time in tank tops and shorts, but I grabbed a cropped navy cardigan from the back of my door to cover up with anyway.

I quickly glanced at my cell phone to make sure I wasn’t running too late as I headed into the living room, tugging at my fishtail braid as I walked to loosen it up. I felt like I needed something to make me look less put-together, more like myself.

My mom was nowhere to be found, and though it had initially bothered me to come home to an empty apartment, with my hectic schedule, I was beginning to get used to never seeing her. Tonight was no exception, and I was a little grateful that I didn’t have to answer twenty questions before going out. My mom would never understand that this wasn’t a date; it was purely a professional, get-to-know-each-other dinner, nothing more.

But even with my level head, I couldn’t deny the pre-date anxiety that was coursing through my veins.

I still had a good twenty minutes before I was supposed to meet Dak in the lobby, but the thought of killing time in the apartment by myself bored me, so I slipped into a pair of white patent leather flats and started on my way down to the lobby.

When the elevator doors slide open, I felt a little awkward because the lobby was completely dead. Even Bitters had neglected his usual post behind the front desk. The silence was a little unnerving, but I took a seat in an armchair facing the glass doors. At least the pool area wasn’t devoid of life, though it definitely wasn’t buzzing as it should be. Guitar Dude was the only person in sight, soulfully strumming his guitar beneath the flickering streetlights. His mellow tune helped to calm me down, but it was also a little too depressing for my taste. It kind of made me wonder what was going on in Guitar Dude’s life.

The ding of the elevator interrupted my thoughts, and I immediately turned to find James, Kendall, Logan, and Carlos spilling out of the shaft in a tumble of limbs and laughter. As soon as James’s hazel eyes fell on me, the three of them seemed to scatter in different directions, leaving Logan on his own as he approached me.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked as he took the chair across from me, but I couldn’t keep my eyes from following his three friends as they pretended not to be eavesdropping.

“Nothing much, we’re about to leave for the ice rink.” He nodded back towards Carlos, who immediately reverted back to being engrossed in the latest issue of French Vogue.

James thumbing through Vogue would’ve been believable, but Carlos…not so much.

But I pretended not to notice. “Isn’t it a little late for hockey?”

Logan’s lips parted, but it was Carlos who answered my question with a scoff and a claim that “It’s never too late for hockey!”

Logan shook his head in irritation as his eyes rolled back, his fair cheeks flushed slightly from embarrassment. “Anyway, “ he paused to sigh before continuing, and Carlos’s lips formed a silent apology behind him, “You look nice, where are you off to?”

Though his tone remained casual, the question felt a little forced, as if he felt guilty for prying but needed to know the answer.

“Thanks.” I flashed him a quick smile. “I’m actually having dinner with Dak Zevon tonight.”

“Oh, classy,” he joked but the lighthearted mood deepened suddenly. “Do you still want to hang out tonight?”

I could feel my eyes begin to glaze over in a blank stare, followed by the sharp pang of guilt in my gut when I realized that I had made plans with Logan and was about to blow him off. But a date with someone like Dak Zevon was something that only happened once in a lifetime, and I saw Logan pretty much every day, so he should understand.

Then why did I feel like shit about it?

“Uh yeah, can you meet me around ten-thirty? On the roof?”

His lips fumbled, trying to catch the words as they frantically scrambled from his mouth. “But our curfew’s at ten, and what about Bitters? We aren’t supposed to be up there. It’s dangerous. I-I-I…”

I cut him off before he had a chance to get himself any more worked up. “Don’t worry about it. If we get caught, I’ll take full responsibility since I’m such a horrible influence on you and everything.”

I could tell that he still wasn’t completely at ease about the idea, but he was tired of protesting, surrendering with a heavy sigh. Just as he was beginning to say something else, the man of hour walked in, and everything seemed to fall into place with a click. No wonder the lobby was so empty, it was apparent that everyone had been outside in the parking lot, all wrapped up in arms over the presence of Dak Zevon. A group still clung to him as he signed each autograph with ease, stopping to take a quick snapshot with Katie Knight, his teeth dazzling as he smiled up at the purple digital camera.

“I’ll see you later,” I mumbled as I brushed Logan off, walking towards the crowd.

There was just something about Dak, the way he exuded this magnetic charisma that drew me to him, made me feel that need to be close to him.

“Hey, ready to go?” His features seemed to brighten as his eyes met mine, and with a nod, I could feel the adrenaline gush through my body as I hooked my arm into his.

There was just a rush I got from making everyone around us green with envy, from leaving a trail of dropped jaws in our wake. It was intoxicating, possessing that sort of power, the ability to make heads turn with no effort at all. I’d never experienced it, but just being around Dak felt like being ensconced in a scene ripped straight from a movie. He had that star power that seemed to amplify everything beautiful around him, giving the music wafting from the car stereo more meaning and blocking out the harsh glow of the headlights around us.

As soon as we reached his car, Dak introduced me to his bodyguard Ty, who bore a striking resemblance to Freight Train. Though having him accompany us was certainly intimidating, his facial features were soft, and his obnoxious jokes helped to lighten the mood. The phrase “big teddy bear” came to mind when I glanced back at him, scrolling through his phone nonchalantly from his place in the backseat of Dak’s Ferrari.

“I know it’s not exactly ideal circumstances,” Dak explained as we made our way out onto the freeway, “but I have to have Ty with me everywhere I go, or else I’ll get mobbed.”

“No, it’s fine. I understand.”

“So what are you in the mood for?” he asked courteously without missing a beat, even though it took me a second to realize what he meant.

“Um, it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t really have a taste for anything.”

I thought it was a little odd that he was asking me about restaurants when he should’ve already made reservations, but then it hit me that someone like Dak Zevon didn’t have to make reservations beforehand, they just let him in, no questions asked.

It was that night that I got my first taste of just how overwhelming being ambushed by the paparazzi could be. They seemed to come out of nowhere, the flashes from the cameras so bright that they were almost blinding, and I had to struggle to keep my eyes from squinting too much, mustering a faint smile as I waved slightly. While I was a little terrified and still seeing spots, Dak was an absolute vision, pausing to offer them a few candid shots before pretending they no longer existed as he guided me through the restaurant’s gilded doors.

“Wow, you’re a natural,” he remarked as we entered the upscale Asian fusion restaurant smack-dab in the center of downtown Los Angeles.

“Thanks,” I replied quietly.

Dak and I were immediately whisked through the doors by the hostess and given our own private VIP room tucked away near the back of the restaurant. I was grateful that Ty decided to wait just outside the dining room, giving Dak and I a little privacy.

“I don’t know how you deal with that every time you go out,” I confessed, carefully lowering myself onto the seat he pulled away from the table for me.

He walked around to the other side of the table, and we were face-to-face again. “It definitely takes some getting used to. Having Ty around doesn’t hurt either,” he joked before taking a sip of his water.

Each of his movements just seemed so natural and unrehearsed, bordering on the surreal side. I hadn’t encountered anyone so seemingly at peace with themselves, and it was very sobering. Dak didn’t come across as the type that let things get under his skin too easily, and it was a quality I admired.

“I’m sure,” I laughed nervously, mimicking his gesture before skimming over the menu.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

“Oh, I seriously doubt that,” I replied before changing the subject to something less personal. “Okay, so I honestly have no clue what to order. Have any suggestions?”

“Hmm…” I watched subtly as his vibrant green eyes glanced over the menu in his hands. “Well, the Triple Delight has a little bit of everything, so it’s probably your best bet.”

“That’s what I’ll try then,” I said, smiling at him from over my menu as I tried to figure out what to say next.

Despite the initial awkwardness, as the night evolved, it became easier to just talk with Dak. And even though Dak was perfectly friendly (if not a little too flirty) and the food was delicious, I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering back to Logan, wondering what he was doing, how the impromptu hockey game between the group of friends had ended up. I was catching it from both sides, feeling guilty for coercing Logan into going out past curfew and feeling bad because I couldn’t really focus on Dak with all these thoughts bouncing around in my head.

After dinner, we decided to cut the night short because it was a weeknight and it was already pretty late. When we arrived back at the Palm Woods, Dak offered to walk me up to my apartment, and I accepted. Braving the crowd without Ty’s assistance, we managed to make it to my floor.

Only a few words were exchanged between us in the elevator as we watched each floor number tick off above us.

Standing alone with him in the hallway in front of my apartment, the soft glow of the lights above making his features appear softer, more trustworthy, giving him the appearance of the ideal leading man in the film that was slowly becoming my life, the moment could’ve have been staged more perfectly. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his slacks as our gazes locked innocently, a look that spoke volumes without either of us saying a word.

My breath caught in my throat as Dak leaned in closer, his lips carefully brushing against mine in a sweet, simple kiss. I didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, as I stood speechless by the door, watching as he became nothing more than a blurred silhouette beneath the dim lights.

Dak Zevon just kissed me, but I didn’t feel anything, just the sinking feeling of being numb.