It’s surprisingly…effortless being a normal could-be couple, getting to know each other, even if I’m play-acting on my part.
I never understood people who could just look at a fictional character in a show or movie and comment on how attractive they are, or how good of a character they are and not completely obsess over the ins and out of the character arc or try to find all the information they can on the Internet.
People find me weird for doing that, but I find them weird for not doing it. I guess that’s what the Star Wars mythos means about Balance.
I have to bite my tongue sometimes, because I already know some of the answers to the questions I’ve asked Ayden, or the follow-up ones, but I don’t want to seem like a stalker. When everything is circulated by social media, it’s hard to keep any part of your life private, but Ayden Stone has achieved some portion of it.
I find myself surprised at some of his answers: clipped answers about his family (I didn’t know he had siblings—not written anywhere on his IMDB profile), enthusiastic answers about his passion for food (which makes him about ten times more attractive), bored answers when it came to talking about Chrisander Gage and character motivation (which felt like pulling teeth until I dropped the subject altogether), and finally flirtatious answers that made me blush, and snort, and then finally start laughing because that’s my response to things that make me nervous or uncomfortable.
And being here, at a casual restaurant with Ayden Stone, is definitely one of those things that makes me uncomfortable in a good way, the stepping-out-of-my-comfort-zone kinda way.
Especially when he’s been recognized, and a bunch of fans are coming up to him and asking for his picture and autograph, all for IG. He’s pretty gracious about it, carefully wiping his mouth with his napkin each time and making sure he’s utterly presentable, while I’m sure I’ve barely evaded getting pizza sauce on my jeans. I watch some of the fangirls get a little too close, which causes a weird sort of heat to trickle through my chest, but I dismiss it because being jealous at this stage of the game is just plain stupid. As if I have the right to be jealous.
Ayden even talks with them a little, making light conversation before wishing them a good night and then returning to his meal. He apologizes to me the three separate times it happens.
“This happens to you a lot?” I ask after drinking some of my ice water, sucking it back before it feels like I’ll die of thirst. California heat is the devil; I don’t know how people can stand to live here. The waitress has cleared our plates, and now we’re waiting for the dessert menu—she mentioned something about a Nutella-stuffed calzone that sounds amazing and something I want to get in on.
Ayden nods, folding his napkin precisely into four without looking up at me. “I don’t mind it, usually, but it has created some obstacles in my personal life.”
“I can’t imagine.” Because I can’t, I really can’t. If someone got in between me and a slice of pizza right before my period, there’d be bloodshed, fan or not.
Ayden’s mouth twitches, like I’ve said something funny, and it makes me squirm in my seat, a happy little wiggle.
“I wanted this ever since I was little. I wanted to be famous, to be on a show that makes people think, makes them feel. I’ve worked hard to not just be the shirtless guy in at least one scene.”
My turn to smirk at him. “Guess they totally haven’t let you stray far from that role, huh?” I’m trying to be funny, but I don’t think I make it come off just right.
He looks a little…hurt, staring down at where his plate used to be. No. “We’re trying to build up tension.”
“Absolutely, I get that.” I rush to get in, jumbling my words together. “I think everybody who watched did. It’s awesome. Can’t wait to see what happens in season four,” I blurt, frowning at myself for being an ass. “I know it bothers you how much I love Leviathan, but I’m not going to be sorry for it.” I notch my chin up, plant my elbows on the table, and cross my arms. That Nutella-stuffed calzone sounds good right about now as soon as I get to see the dessert menu and actually order it.
Ayden’s eyebrows leap high on his forehead, mouth parted in something like surprise. “I never wanted you to be sorry. I have a love/hate relationship with the show. On the one hand, it’s created some brilliant opportunities for me, our guest appearances are utterly legendary, and I’ve learned a lot from different actors. On the other, I wish I could distance myself more from the character.” He looks totally uncomfortable right now, and I almost feel bad for him.
“I like that he’s morally gray. He’s more interesting that way, keeps me guessing, you know? Which way will Chris go? Hell, and the fan fiction has some really excellent theories, too, all of them viable.”
He looks up and stares at me, mouth parted. I guess it’s the kind of look you would give someone who plucked the very thoughts out of your mind and gave voice to them or told you your future and it doesn’t sound so hot. “People do have some intense imaginations.”
I wave my hand, like I’m throwing his words out the window. “That doesn’t mean it’s about you; it’s about your character. You’ve done something with your character that people can get behind, regardless of gender or sexuality. Isn’t that something to be proud of?”
How can I, a fangirl, be so in love with this show and the actor who plays the main freaking character just…isn’t? What kind of hell is this?
The waitress interrupts my very important question by finally bringing us our dessert menus. I spy with my little eye the calzone of Nutella-stuffed fame and see that it’s served with vanilla ice cream and strawberries. Yeah, I’m going to have to hit the gym big time when I get back home, but I’m in California, and I’m living a real type of fangirl fantasy. Of course I’m going to get the super-delicious dessert.
I glance up to find Ayden studying his menu with the intensity of a college kid writing a final exam with ten minutes left on the clock and one long-answer question left. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“That’s fine. So, full disclosure, I don’t share desserts, but I’ll gladly give you a piece of the calzone if you want.”
I get a smile for that and feel like I’ve saved the day/date. “I’ll have the apple pie, see how it compares to back home.”
We place our dessert menus down and give our orders when our waitress comes back.
“I made an apple pie once,” I say, putting down my menu and folding my hands across it. “Then I burnt it to a crisp and decided that baking just wasn’t for me.”
Ayden quirks an eyebrow, and while it’s a little domineering when Chrisander Gage does it, this one is all curiosity, but still volcanic levels of hot. “All because of one bad…apple?”
“Ha ha. Yeah. I have a bad habit of wanting to be perfect at everything, wanting everything to be perfect.”
“Maybe what’s perfect for you isn’t what’s perfect for everyone else.”
I clear my throat and settle back into my seat, putting some space between us. My heart squeezes inside my chest, and I have this wild feeling like I might start crying. This is surreal, it’s awkward and weird, but this isn’t the worst date I’ve ever been on, and it certainly isn’t my best. Then again, I’ve always compared all my dates to the date I was never gonna have with Chrisander Gage, and now that I’m actually here with the guy that shares his face…it’s not perfect at all, and not heading in the direction I expected.
I mean, is it too much to ask for the guy of my dreams to compliment me endlessly and give me insurmountable amounts of affection upon getting to know me?
Keep an open mind. You’re your own worst enemy, Aria.
I’m paying too much attention to the tablecloth, its crisp white linen draped over the table. There are some coffee stains or something left behind that kind of ruin all that immaculate white. “I’m pretty sure I want you to be someone you’re not, and I’m sorry.” I have the lady balls to admit it, even if it hurts, even if it’ll hurt him. My heart pines for someone that doesn’t exist—how sad is that?
Number one fangirl problem—fictional characters just aren’t real.
“Why do you love him so much?” Ayden asks quietly, and I wonder what people listening to us are thinking about this particular line of conversation. They all probably think I’m a cheating bitch.
I don’t ask Who do I love? We both know the answer already.
I shrug my shoulders, looking anywhere but at him. What do I say now? How do I explain? “I…uh,” I sigh, looking up at the ceiling, as if the very answers I’m looking for are written there, then look back into Ayden’s eyes. “I love his tenacity, his stubborn streak that keeps him focused. I never had that growing up; my mom was a bit of a flake. I mean, I don’t think I ever got to a soccer practice or dance recital on time—not once.” I pretend to mull it over, like I don’t have my answers memorized. “Chrisander’s focused on his goals, on who he wants to be, on how he wants to do it. He’s got his eye on the prize, and nothing, not even meeting with his soul mate, regardless of gender, will sway him from it. That’s determination and the drive to succeed. I admire that about him. He’s kind, and a little arrogant, but where else is there to go but down when someone knocks you down a few pegs?” Now I’m on a roll.
“I love him because he works hard, and he puts others first, regardless of his background, of his upbringing, how he was made to perceive the world around him. Despite always being told he was better than everyone else all his life, he kind of knew from the beginning that it wasn’t the case. Oh, his ego was bruised, definitely, but it didn’t make him whiny or even more of an asshole—he takes everything in stride. A lot of people don’t know how to do that, you know.” I sigh.
“He doesn’t see himself in the way others see him, even when he tries so hard, his best. It’s the hardest lesson for him to learn, that even his best might not be good enough.” I clear my throat again.
“There was this one scene that changed everything for me—it was when you, uh, Chrisander cried, really cried. When he had to kill the dog. And I just kind of went…oh. Ooh. And then I decided that Chrisander Gage was the most interesting person on the ship, but Amy is right up there, too. I mean, I don’t know if I’m explaining myself properly. And I also get excited over stupid things.” I shake my head at my rambling. This is usually the part where my first dates go to no.
He’s looking at me with Chrisander’s gray eyes, and it’s a lot. “Don’t apologize for loving things. I wish I was as passionate about my work as you were in those few minutes when you explained it all to me.”
I frown, feeling my nose sting as a precursor to tears. “I don’t know what to do with you.”
“I don’t know what to do with you, either.”
My heart thumps, belly swooping. “I feel like I should know you, but I don’t. And it’s weird, and you’re you.”
“Then we’re on even footing.” Ayden smiles at me and leans back so our waitress can plop our desserts on the table. I take a few seconds to try to eat the calzone with knife and fork but then give up. Life is meant to be taken with both hands on the wheel and I’ve decided to play it that way.
“I’m kinda sad that you don’t have that kind of passion for your work. Like, how could I have fallen in love with your character if you keep him at arm’s length?”
Ayden scoops up the perfect ratio of apple pie to vanilla ice cream with his fork and eats it, eyes fluttering closed at the taste, taking his time to savour it before speaking. I didn’t know that watching Ayden Stone eat would be something I was into, but man, what an experience.
“We all play roles, we’re all different people at one time or another. You know it’s true. You’re someone different in front of your parents, your family, than who you are with your closest friends.” I nod, because okay, yeah, it’s true. “I just go deeper and do it for a living.”
“But it sounds like you don’t even like it that much, not really. That sucks.”
Ayden frowns, scooping up another piece of his apple pie and chewing it slowly, dissecting flavour and maybe crust texture. “Not bad at all,” he comments then focuses back on me. “Look, I love my job, I love learning about all the different characters, about humans in general, and what it all means, what it all could mean. I love that part of it, I just don’t love this part—the panels, the photo ops. I don’t do too well with too many people around. I like spending time on my own, to recuperate.”
“Hi, I’m Aria, and I’m also an introvert.” I wave at him from across the table. “That bums me out. Couldn’t you have chosen another career path? Wow, you must be exhausted all the time! Do you want to leave?” I’m gonna put the rest of this calzone in my mouth if that’s what it takes. Every introvert knows there’s just a certain time in the middle of a given event where you want to go home, be by yourself, put on some pajamas and fuzzy socks and sigh deeply once you crawl into bed. It’s no biggie, just a fact of life. I’m not offended.
Ayden laughs, finally setting down his fork and looking at me with something like…affection?
Please be affection.
You wish.
Absolutely!
“You’re very considerate, thank you. But I’d rather spend the rest of the night with you, if that’s all right.”
I’m struck dumb for a couple of seconds; sure I didn’t hear right. Since getting our desserts, the place got a little more packed, a little more crowded, and the bar that’s close to us is being bombarded with people hollering for drinks and looking up at the screens showing some baseball game, getting louder and louder. I don’t understand why.
“Hold on, isn’t this the worst first date you’ve ever had? Especially since I’ve been torturing you with all my questions.” I grin sheepishly. Oh no, please don’t say this wasn’t a date. I might end up kicking you or punching you, Ayden.
Ayden smiles, teeth shining in the dimmed light. I can’t seem to think at the sight of his mega-watt smile. “It was lovely; you’re lovely.”
Yup, totally going to pass out now. Totally gonna lose consciousness.
“And I’d like to spend more time with you. Even if it’s only for tonight.”
Oh, yeah. Totally forgot about that deadline thing and going back home tomorrow. Is now a bad time to bring up the fact that Leviathan films in my hometown where I’ve lived my whole life?
“Actually…the show’s gonna start filming in Toronto. I happen to live in Toronto.” I grin, all nervous and wobbly.
If there were awards for smiles, then Ayden Stone would win all of them, sweep them, across the board. “So I guess there’s more to this than I expected.”
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