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I swallow, pry my fingers off the door frame.The more you cooperate, the faster this will be over. The mattress sinks under my ass as I sit down. “Like this?”
He leans over and tugs open the front of my unbuttoned shirt, until it’s almost falling off one shoulder. “And can you,” he prods my knee, widening my stance. “Lean back on your hands, don’t smile. Perfect.”
The shutter sounds deafening in the stuffy room. There aren’t any windows, and the bright lights are heating up my skin. I squeeze a fistful of the comforter.
“Now lie down on your back.” My stomach starts trembling deep inside me, and I tense my muscles to hide it.
“Did, uh, did my dad approve these?”
“Uh-huh. We showed him all the concepts.” He’s busy changing settings. “Sex sells best on social media, especially when the celebrity looks like you.” I think it’s supposed to sound like a complement.
“Mm.” I’m losing the ability to talk. Lying back on the bed, I close my eyes as he fusses with the way my shirt should drape. Then he kicks off his shoes and steps up onto the bed, one foot on either side of my hips, pointing the camera down at my face.Click. Click.
“You ok?” He stops, frowning. I’m shaking all over, so hard he can feel it.
“Seasick,” I croak, scrambling out from between his legs. I almost knock a light over as I run into the tiny attached bath and lock the door. I dry heave into the toilet and sit back against the wall, staring at nothing, unable to stop shivering.
There’s a place I go. The water is emerald green and has no bottom so I can just sink and sink and sink. As long as I keep sinking, as long as I don’t come up for air, no one can reach me there.
I don’t know how long it is before the door rattles. Holding my breath, I stand up slowly. “Victor,” Dad growls. “Open this door.”
You know you’ve fucked up when they send God himself down to yell at you.
I wipe my mouth off on my sleeve and shoulder out the door past him. He glares at me as I sit on the edge of the bed and button up my shirt. “Your participation in this ad campaign is not a matter of opinion. If you don’t, I will prosecute you for breach of contract and leave you alone, unprotected, with nowhere to go.”
Hot, painful emotions I can’t identify or control spark behind my eyes. I point to the lights, the bed, my voice louder than I’ve ever dared to be with him. “You knew this was going to happen.” The look in his eyes makes me bite my tongue. I try again, quieter. “I’m looking into your eyes right now, as my father, and asking—” I slide off the edge of the bed, onto my knees where I belong “—beggingyou to let me go home. Please.”
A long, long silence. We’re so deep in the boat I can’t smell the dusty sunlight or hear the water. My father clears his throat. “Your personal problems have nothing to do with me. If you can’t cope, maybe you should have considered your life choices more carefully.”
I make a sound like he just kicked me in the chest.
“It’s time for lunch.” The old man strolls out of the room, knowing I have no choice but to follow.
Ethan’s eyes narrow when he sees me approach the two large tables, set under the shade of the upper deck and arranged with fruit, pastries, thin shavings of meat and cheese—absolutely nothing pre-packaged. I’m carrying a cigarette I bummed off of two crew members I caught taking a smoke break on the way up. Even though I don’t want it, I need something to do with my hands.
“Your dad spoke to me just now.” He sounds upset. When I take a pull instead of answering him, he fidgets. I study the horizon through my sunglasses as the wind whips the smoke from between my lips. “I get that this shit isn’t exactly fun, but you’re making things harder for everyone. You saidIlike to suffer, but you’re the one turning a free vacation and some glamor shots into the ninth circle of hell.”
“What exactly did he tell you?” I ask softly.
“You got pissed and walked out on the photo shoot.”
“Ah.” A dry laugh bubbles up in my chest and I raise my voice. “Is that so, Werner?”
My father looks up from his plate, and Gray turns around to stare at me. I hold Dad’s eyes, but I’m talking to Ethan. “What if I told you he was fucking with me? Setting me up to fail? Who would you believe?”
He hesitates. Whatever’s in my chest where my heart should be cracks. “Got it.” I throw my cigarette down and grind it out on the decking. “I get it.”
“You want me to be honest?” He’s trying to speak quietly, but I know my dad can hear. “God knows I’ve tried, but you have never given me a single reason to trust you. You live in some insane dream world and I can’taffordto stay there with you, whether I want to or not.”
I can’t breathe, air spasming in my lungs, but I keep my lips pressed together so Ethan doesn't notice. Suddenly, I get why he’s so afraid of the ocean. There’s nowhere to go.
Dad nods to me, smiles. He still knows every way to hurt me, to punish me for all the shame I've brought him, by taking the only things I care about.
Pushing my chair back, I get up and start walking, hunting for any part of the yacht where I can’t see cameras or people. On a quiet bit of deck at the stern, I settle down on the warm wood and hang my legs over the water, resting my chin on the railing. Flecks of sea foam hit my cheeks, and the rumble of engines fills my brain until there’s no room for thoughts.
Ethan
It takes a little convincing, but after I film a few extra shots by myself Campagna agrees that we have enough to call this day a wrap. The way the deck tilts as the yacht sluggishly turns around makes me swear never to set foot on a boat again.
