“What does it mean?”
“Well, originally, it meant a guy who sleeps with multiple women. But over time, between the two of us, the word turned into referring to men who slept with multiple guys. When I started my music career, I’d catch up with my friend on the phone. All these famous people I ran into daily who just loved attention and would give anything for fame — I started calling them starboys.”
I chuckled. “Well, thanks for letting me on your inside joke,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder.
“You’re a starboy too,” he said.
“Wait, what? I thought that was an insult!” I said.
He chuckled a little. “You’re a guy. You’re famous now. You’ve slept with multiple guys — it seems like you fit the definition.”
“I’m not famous yet,” I said, my heart racing.
“Oh, but you are. Have you even checked your Instagram account today?” he asked.
“No, I look at it maybe once a week…” I admitted.
“Check it now,” Crim said.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The screen was just my regular background.
“I have push notifications turned off,” I explained. “Don’t want to be bothered by it…”
“Good, me too. Distractions are the enemy of creativity,” he said, then sighed. “I can’t wait to be in Iceland where there’s no internet…”
I felt a pang in my gut at the reminder of what he wanted — to get away from it all.
He’d be getting away from me too. Not that it mattered to him…
He tightened his grip on my shoulder and pulled me closer, and I was able to banish the thought for a moment and just enjoy this.
I pulled up Instagram to see 99+ notifications waiting for me.
“What the hell…?” I said out to the sea as I looked through the list.
I’d gained thousands of followers overnight.
Crim smirked. “See? Famous. Starboy.”
I checked my DM’s. My inbox was filled with people trying to get in touch with me for one reason or another. A lot of the messages were asking if me and Crim were a thing.
Crim peered down at my phone and saw.
“Well? Do you want to be a thing?” he asked.
My heart felt like it exploded at that moment. Confetti was fluttering around in my stomach as I processed what he just asked. But when I closed my eyes, all I could see was Leo.
“Uh… I kissed someone else,” I said, letting the revelation pour out of me.
“So?” he asked with a smile, unfazed.
“Like, someone else besides you and Oliver,” I said.
“So?” he repeated. “I don’t care who you kiss. I don’t do jealousy. Takes too much effort; effort that could be spent on real things.”
“Don’t you even want to know who I kissed?” I asked, completely debased.
He shrugged, then cocked his head.
“Oh wait… you’re still off,” he said.
“What the hell are you talking about, Crim?” I asked impatiently. I saw my chance to be with him slipping away because of my hesitation.
“You didn’t do it yet,” he said, disappointment lacing his voice.
“Do what?” I asked, even though we both knew what he was talking about. I hadn’t forgiven myself yet.
He looked around me, squinting, the same way that Hazel did.
“I can’t do it with this,” he said, gesturing.
“What?” I urged, trying to get him to say it out loud.
He locked his purple eyes onto mine. “You know what you have to do, Charlie.”
“I don’t,” I said, frowning. And it was true; I didn’t know how to forgive myself.
What I needed to do was talk to Hazel, but the last time we were on the phone together, she cut me short. Even though she always reminded me that she liked being bothered by me, there was something about the last time we talked — the tone of her voice maybe — that seemed like she was rushing me.
“You’re doing it again,” Crim said with a frown.
“I don’t know what you mean!” I shouted.
But Crim was already taking his arm off my shoulder as he stood up.
“Does this mean… you don’t want to be with me?” I asked.
“Not until you get all that—” he gestured to all of me again, “—in order.”
“How?!” I asked, standing up to face him.
Even though he was a few inches taller than me, I stood my ground. It wasn’t like I was looking into Crim’s face anymore — it’s like I was looking into the face of fate.
“I don’t know, that’s for you,” he said softly.
Then he turned and began to walk back to the set.
I wanted to scream at him, throw a shell at the stupid back of his head to convey my frustration. I wanted someone to understand all of this emotional baggage I was trying to work through.
But it wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him.
I sat on the log for a little while longer, watching the sky get darker. After I fiddled with a seashell a few times, I decided it was time to turn in for the night.
Slowly, I stood up and made a beeline for my trailer.
Only a few more days here on this stupid beach and then I’d be in Morocco. I knew being in a different location wouldn’t change anything — it wouldn’t change the weirdness with Crim, the tears on Oliver’s face, Leo’s refusal to come out of the closet, Reese’s secrecy and frustrations…
And it wouldn’t change the fact that Mason was a complete asshole. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen him around in a few days.
Halfway to my trailer, I realized that I’d have to walk through an area where the crew was hanging out.
Overwhelmed by a burning desire not to talk to anyone, I changed course. Making a last-minute decision, I snuck around the cluster of trailers and entered the path that ascended the cliff face.
I must have walked this way over a hundred times in the past few weeks out of sheer boredom; I couldn’t wait to start being on set.
For whatever reason, I found myself standing outside
