Wreck the Halls

Danielle scoffed. “Melody, everyone wants to bring you two on. And I mean everyone.” She left that grand statement dangling in the air. “Over the next two days, while I pull my plan together, just try and go about your normal lives. While being filmed, of course.”

“Of course.” Beat sounded dry, casual, but every muscle in his body was visibly unsettled. “How are we going to split up if Melody is staying at my place?”

“I’m not. I really need to go home.”

He tensed further. “I thought we decided it wasn’t safe.”

“Then I’ll collect some things and go to a hotel. I just . . .” Emotional exhaustion was beginning to creep up on her, making her eyes feel hot and gritty. “I just think a couple of days to regroup is a good idea.” As lopsided as things were between herself and Beat at the moment, she didn’t want to add to his stockpile of guilt, so she tacked on, “I have a bocce game tomorrow night, anyway. I should . . . mentally prepare.”

“Ooh!” Danielle produced her clipboard seemingly from thin air. “I’ll contact them today about filming and release forms.”

Melody sputtered. “You’re going to film my bocce game?”

“Yes, of course.” Danielle’s pen scratched on the clipboard. “Viewers will love it.”

Beat leaned forward. “Is that going to be safe for her?”

Frustration welled in Melody’s chest. “I can take care of myself. Stop worrying about me.”

His voice rose. “Do you think I can just turn this off? Carve you out of my chest? I can’t.”

Melody remained unmoving in the wake of that statement, but her pulse rollicked at the pace of a racehorse rounding the bend. Danielle’s gaze cut to Joseph, then away—because, oh God, they were streaming. The silence that followed was deafening. And Melody didn’t know how to feel, either. Elated to be so important to Beat. Curious enough to read further into what he’d said. Or just plain sad because she couldn’t simply enjoy mind-blowing sex without yearning for more. Most frustrating of all was the wretched ache inside of her, demanding she unfasten her seat belt, crawl into Beat’s lap, and remain there forever.

Finally, Beat broke the uncomfortable silence he’d created. “Please just make sure she has the security team with her, all right?” he said, gruffly.

“Of course,” Danielle murmured.

Nobody spoke for the remainder of the drive to the airport.

*

After an eerily silent flight, the foursome was woefully unprepared for the mayhem that greeted them back in New York. They deplaned and got into another waiting SUV, everything seemingly normal. But when they pulled through the exit gates of the tarmac, thousands of people were waiting.

At their appearance, a roar moved like a waking beast through the crowd, erupting in a deafening wail of cheers. Melody sat straight up in the rear seat, Beat sliding close and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, tugging her protectively to his chest. “How did they know where we were landing?”

“Either it was a lucky guess or the flight crew leaked it,” Danielle responded, staring out the front windshield at the sea of bodies, their gloved hands holding up signs, their excited breaths vaporizing in the air. They beat the windows of the SUV with their fists, cupping their hands in an attempt to see inside, screaming Melody’s and Beat’s names.

Totally dumbstruck by the sight, Melody labored to fill her lungs.

“This is crazy. I don’t understand it.”

Danielle made a wishy-washy sound. “You asked me to keep the viewer count to myself, but, uh . . . you sort of broke the internet last night singing ‘Rattle the Cage’ in front of the woman who wrote it. And now refuses to perform it. And her much younger boyfriend. Basically, what I’m trying to say is—”

“It was good TV,” Melody breathed.

The producer sighed. “That would be an understatement.”

They passed a sign that read: Melody Gallard is my love language.

Another one read: They’re totally fucking.

Last: The “only one bed” trope IRL! My life is complete.

Huh?

Police sirens cut through the quiet midmorning air, officers wading through the crowd to push the mass of bodies to one side or the other, allowing the SUV to drive through the exit. Several members of the crowd chased after the SUV, one of them holding out an open ring box, though Melody wasn’t sure if they were proposing to her or Beat.

Danielle clapped her hands together. “Now that we’ve escaped Belody Mania—”

“What was that?” Beat interrupted.

“Belody is your ship name. It’s what they’re calling you.”

He fell back against the seat, taking Melody with him. They were still being filmed.

What had her life become?

“Beat, do you have any plans over the next couple of days? I just want to make sure we get the itinerary straight before communicating it to the associate producer.”

“Plans.” He raked a hand through his hair, looking over Melody, as if to determine whether or not she’d escaped the mob without a scratch, even though they were inside the vehicle. “I . . . yes. Based on the number of missed calls on my phone, I’m guessing my mother either caught some of the live stream last night or heard about it. I should probably do some damage control there. Other than that, I have a Christmas party tomorrow night at seven. Small one at my friend Vance’s place.”

“Ahh, I see. Two events at once.” Danielle chewed her lip and made another notation. “Maybe we can do a split screen, Mel at bocce, Beat at the party—”

“Ma’am, we’re here,” said the driver.

“Thank you.” Danielle started to gather her things, gesturing for Melody to do the same. She’d been so caught off guard by the crowd she’d been slow to recognize her surroundings, but realized now that they’d stopped at the rental car section of the airport. “Melody, our driver and the new cameraperson are meeting us here.”

Beat sat forward. “She’s leaving now?”

“I’m leaving now?” she said at the same time, stopping just shy of reaching for Beat’s hand. Which was ridiculous. She needed time and space to get her infatuation under control. Not to mention, come to terms with everything that had happened last night with her mother, like finding out Trina never even spoke about her. Maybe her mother loved her in some backward way, but Melody mostly felt like a bill that needed to be paid while Trina played make-believe with the adventure club—and that wasn’t what Melody wanted. Or needed. Whether or not Melody earned the million-dollar payout from Wreck the Halls, she didn’t want to be supported by her mother any longer. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t mourn the loss. For that, she needed time.

This break from Beat was good. This was healthy.

She turned to Beat and kissed his cheek. “See you in two days.”