Through his open bedroom window, the brisk breeze of autumn rolled into the house, a perfect sample of the environment outside, muted green hills and an early-wintering sunset. On the other side of the clear glass, however, stood Santiago, who had been waiting rather… patiently for Thanksgiving dinner. Patiently as in there was not a fiber in his body that wished to go, and he had even left the window open so that the room would not smell like tobacco when he finished smoking to calm his nerves. He had barely found the energy within himself to prepare for the event, so he needed an additional bit of smoke to actually attend it.
He never expected to be a smoker, but after so many music videos and fake paparazzi pictures holding a cigarette, nicotine had become something like a friend to Santiago. His cigarette for today, though, had been already been put out, so he just enjoyed the breeze as he lifted his collar up. He was going to pick up his tie, but then he saw that on Eva’s vanity was his watch, and he realized he had not put on any of his accessories. With a raised collar, picked up the watch, and then with his eyes he looked on the top of the desk surface for his small chain as he put the watch on. He finished securing the watch, but there was no sight of his chain still. His earrings, he did not have to worry about, as he tried not to take them off because if he did, he might not put them back on again, and his rings he liked to wear mostly for style. With a small sigh, he ducked down to look under the vanity, in the small space between it and the floor.
Ducked down, his very tall, somewhat skinny knees pressed against the hardwood floor, and he tried not to press his cheek too far into it while he examined the area. After his gaze swooshed around once or twice, he saw the chain, and pulled it out with the tips of his fingers, the only thing that would fit through the slot. But behind it, he saw light reflecting off of a small metal ring that he did not usually wear. In fact, he had not worn it in years. It was his wedding band, something he had never gotten around to throwing away because after he divorced, he had still loved her and he did for a long time, as hard as it was to admit.
When he realized what it was, he bit the side of his lip and then got up. It was no matter to him anymore.
He fixed up his collar once more, and then picked up his tie from the vanity surface, wrapping it around his neck. He began to put the folds together, his movements focused and deliberate before he heard high-heel footsteps come into the doorway that made him feel much more at ease.
It was his girlfriend, Evangeline, better known as Eva to the world. She was a very impressive actress, but at first glance you would be more likely to notice that she was a model. She wore a frilly red dress, sexy and playful, like her. Her proportionately skinny, tall frame, and cocoa colored eyes enchanted him. He looked at her eyes first, smiling when she looked at him the way she always did, like she loved him. It was a feeling he did not get from many people, let alone something so special. He looked away for a second, chuckling because he did not know what else to do with his amazement. Three years, and she still made him nervous.
But he pulled himself together, pulling her in by her hands, and tilting his head, talking to her like she was a very cute thing that needed to be handled gently. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” And it was evidently just him musing, but the words were laced together like a genuine question. “Did it hurt when you feel from heaven?” He teased, softly running the back of his hand along her cheek, not thinking much of the line.
He expected her to play along with the joke, saying something like ‘Yeah, it kinda did but I’m fine.’ But instead, she looked at him very matter-of-factly, subtle mischief playing in her expression. She put her hand on his chest to pause him, and then quirked when she noticed that the knot of his tie was not yet fully done. She took matters into her own hands, and tightened the ends herself to finally answer his question, looking back up at him when she finished. “I’m no Angel.”
He laughed, knowing exactly what she meant, referring to the rivalry he had with rapper Saint Scantling. It was refreshing how easily she could make play out of serious drama, he needed that in his life.
“Damn straight you’re not.” A smile brimmed on his lips. “But what are you then?”
She smiled, the mischief not leaving her face as she responded. They exchanged a few words and decided they were ready to leave, but before they could, he eyed her lips, and leaned down to kiss her one last time before the chaos unfolded.
After they arrived at the scene, cameras flashed in their direction, catching shots of Santiago, Eva, and his sister Sunny by their side; she had joined them not long before leaving. They turned to see what was going on for a brief moment, and the flash of the cameras caused Santiago to squint his eyes. He was already missing home.
On the bright side, a mix of fans and press was better than fans by themselves, because they were much more opinionated. The average citizen had about a 35 percent chance of liking Santiago. His music was streamed by many many people, but a rap song had nowhere near the reputation of his previous movies, and the fans he lost to the status quo. The figure once loved by all of the families of America had become an acquired taste, reserved mostly for young people with loose morals. Anyone outside of that demographic would likely see him and immediately call him a flop, or an abuser, because who needed evidence when you had respect?
“Santi, how do you feel knowing your brother is making another movie after deserting yours?” “Do you think the Paradox Pair will come back?” Asked the paparazzi, but then the fans chimed in, only they weren’t his. “Stay away from Edith Rose! Abuser!” “He’s not even a real rapper, he was a child star!”
Their voices were only echoes, but he heard them clearly, and their words repeated in his mind as he tried to shut them off. He just kept walking, making sure that Eva and Sunny walked in front of him so they wouldn’t hear everything the people were saying about him. He wasn’t fazed, but he knew that he’d be getting called rude in the magazines tomorrow morning.
And it was all Emiliano’s fault. He had disappeared for four years, leading everyone to think he was dead up until a few weeks ago when the trailer came out for his new film. They had all been insane to think that he was truly gone, searching for his body in the woods for so long. They had been even crazier thinking that it was Santiago’s doing, but at least those eyes were no longer on him.
He still remembered watching the video for the first time. He had looked at the TV screen puzzled, sitting on the couch during another depressive episode, wearing boxers and his lazy beard. At first he thought that directors had been using old tapes of him for something short, but it only took a few clips to see how he looked older, different. But even then when he new that Emiliano was fine, he didn’t reach out. There was no reason to talk to someone who so clearly had no interest in speaking to him. The trailer had only been out for weeks, shooting the scenes must have taken much longer, and he never said anything, which meant his avoiding them was purposeful. In Santiago’s mind, Emiliano was still dead.
They passed the flashing lights of the cameras and went up the stairs to board the boat, his dress shoes meeting the metal plates on each step. He reached the top step and walked onto the wooden floor, staring at the decadence of the dinner party scenery. The shine of the decorative lighting was golden, and long tables stretched out across the deck, each with several plates and napkins, forks for salad and steak. Everyone was dressed to the nines, wearing dresses and suits that adhered to the glamorous Beverly dress code. He looked beside him at Eva, and took her hand, Sunny joining beside them as they looked for their place to sit. The night looked gorgeous, blue water reflecting the light of the full moon on the coast. Santiago suggested to lead them to the spot where Winslie sat, a dear friend of all of them, who had only grown closer after her decided widowing. Funny enough, their names were lined up well-enough with the woman, an empty spot whose place card he couldn’t read in front of them. Sunny sat across from the woman, Santiago and Eva beside her. He greeted the woman with a polite nod, and they caught up a bit. He and Eva asked how she was doing, they teased Sunny once again about releasing a new album. For a brief moment, the air felt sweet, the fresh, salty scent of the pacific blending in with the breeze. Until it was not.
“Hope someone saved a seat for me?”
The sound of his voice rattled Santiago’s head, and he immediately knew who was there. Truthfully, he was half-expecting the man to show up at the event. Perhaps he had no time to see his family, but he could always make some for the limelight. It seemed like proof that he had not changed at all, and was still the same egotistical ^sshole that Santiago always knew. He sat down, and Santiago tensed in his seat, his engaged posture reclining back until he felt at ease, as far away as he could get from the man whilst still seated. He raised a limp hand in front of his mouth to cover a laugh, shaking his head, riddled by the disbelief that the man still existed and was standing there before all of them. Anger coiled through his body, but he reminded himself that they were in the most open, public setting possible, so he had to keep his composure for his friends, since he didn’t really care about himself. He was a man of honor, but his brother possessed the ability to tick him off beyond a point of class.
Obviously, he spoke to him as if nothing had happened, and the last time he saw the man was yesterday for brunch; like they were both still married actors whose lives were perfect. He wondered if Emilio knew how much he had ruined his.
They met eyes, and the feeling of the hold was exasperating, like when the shark reaches your face and your body is telling you swing at its nose, debilitate it before it hurts you more than it potentially has, but he couldn’t. There was no room for imprudence when this was your life, so he did what any good man would try.
“Long time,” he said, adding no other words to the sentence. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on, Emilio.” He paused, looking around for some excuse, before giving him a false smile. “Maybe over some drinks, so I’ll go find a waiter. You can join me if you want.”
He pushed back, and got out of his chair, walking to the interior part of the yacht, the wind howled before snapping the door behind him sharply shut. He didn’t want to come off demanding, not in front of his family, but the offer had to stay, even if it just ended in him taking a breather and then relocating.
If Emiliano was a real man, then he would follow him, but knowing him, he could just as easily throw him under the bus and call him dramatic. The only thing he felt guilty for was his knowing that Sunny would be the one to surely follow him, because they were her siblings too. They did not share blood, but she was more family to him than Emilio ever had been.
Inside the boat, he saw a few servants swiftly leaving the room. They sensed that there was something they should not see. His mind would not shut off. Come on.
@Kristi Emiliano
@Caticorn Sunny
Mentioned:
@sunflowerjm Eva
@Madilnel Winslie and Saint
Let the games begin! Welcome to the Beverly Shores Thanksgiving Yacht Party! 
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