Chapter 1

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the preacher asked, his tone deathly serious.

“I do,” the male in front of me answered, looking from the preacher to me, his eyes twinkling with a tiny, happy grin on his face.

“And do you,” the preacher turned to me, nodding as if to make sure I acknowledged his question, “take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” I said, drawing all the happiness from around me and transferring it to my eyes and my voice as I was supposed to.

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,” he finished, smiling at the young couple before him—I was a part of that couple!

Sol grinned at me, happiness shining on his face. I tried to mimic this look as his face got closer to mine. Why was he getting closer to me? Oh yeah. My wedding. I resisted the urge to lean back, away from him, and instead reversed the urge, and leaned right into him.

Our lips met and I tried to ignore the passion shown in that kiss. How he clutched my arms, and how my arms were wrapped around his neck. Passionately. Almost needy. A few more moments, and:

“Cut! Ace! Brilliant job!”

We both broke apart and spat on the ground at nearly the exact same time.

“Now now, Sol, Luna,” the director said, “Please don’t spit on our beautiful sets.”

I rolled my eyes and stripped the white gloves from my slender hands as Sol yawned tiredly, “Sorry Doc,” we both said at once. We glared at one another. I was starting to dislike this in sync thing we had going on.

“Oh boy,” Sol voiced my thoughts, “I’m spending too much time with her. Are we done for the day yet, or what?”

Though I disliked him, I couldn’t help but agree. We’d been up here since five this morning and it was already nearly midnight. I had a curfew of one on weekends, and work was not an exception. I wondered how many scenes we had filmed. Not even a dozen, I estimated, and those few that we had finished might even have to be re-filmed later if Doc and the rest of the crew found even one little thing that was wrong. Though it was quite annoying having Doc always making us re-film things so often, he was one of the best directors around. We had lovingly nicknamed the Brit Doc because of his surgical-like view of films. He’d watch the footage numerous times, taking in the tiniest flaws, all so that everything would go perfectly right. It was no wonder why all of his films were a smash, even if they did tend to take longer to make.

“Yes, settle down, I know you two want to get out of here,” he laughed, “just get out of those wedding clothes and have your makeup removed, then you are done for the day.”

I smiled joyfully and practically skipped to the makeup artists so that I wouldn’t ruin the beautiful white dress when I removed it. I sat in one of the spinny chairs that I loved so much, kicked the floor with my high-heeled foot, and spun around until the chair came to a halt, “Make me anti-beautiful, Micks!”

Micki (pronounced Micky) laughed and said, “Well that will be hard to do, huh Lunar?”

I grinned, glad that the makeup artist—not just a makeup artist, but my best set friend—thought that I was beautiful.

“Back atcha babe,” I said, giving her a thumbs-up. She really was very beautiful, though she never seemed to believe me. Her hair was blonde, long, and straight, and her eyes were brown and the perfect almond shape. Her body was utterly magnificent as well, because of the at home toning videos she had told me about. I would say that she could be a great model—she was really good at looking pouty, especially with her heavily made-up eyes that she was famous for around here—if only she’d gain some confidence. She was the shyest woman I had ever met! She was twenty-one, beautiful, and talented, but if cosmetology was her true calling, who was I to disagree? I wasn’t completely shallow though! She also had a brilliant mind, defying the stereotype her hair brought upon her. She could be a college professor, or a scientist—she’d look cute in a lab coat—if she was wanted to. Whenever I mentioned this to her, however, she always just scoffed and talked about how much she loved to do the makeup and hair of big Hollywood celebrities. Especially me, since she was my personal makeup artist. You wouldn’t see a movie contract signed by me without her name in it, specifying that she was the only one I would allow tweaking my image.

She returned the gesture and giggled some more, taking out her box of stage make-up. This is just a thing we do. Every time I have my makeup removed, I repeat these words. I make them opposites—and so does Micki—when I had to have my makeup put on.

“That is really, very annoying,” a deep, sweet voice sang as he sat in a chair across from mine, waiting for one of the other makeup artists to remove the stage makeup that he was forced to wear to make his skin look normal under the unforgiving lights. I eyed him warily, noticing how silly he looked in the stage makeup under normal lighting, but opting not to mention it since I knew that I probably looked just as silly. Under all the makeup was a nearly perfect shade of tan, which I knew was natural (not fake-n-bake) unlike most other celebrities. The color really contrasted with my pale, cream complexion which I was sure was a lot of the reason why movie producers and casters seemed to always want to pair us off. The eerie green glow that his eyes held contrasted well with the bright, water blue of my eyes. His jet black hair—once long and skater-ish, but buzzed for this movie—was a big difference from my perfectly wavy, light brown hair, without making us complete opposites, which would take away from our on screen chemistry. That chemistry would be the death of me one day, I was sure of it.

“No one asked you, Sol,” I said as if the name was poison.

“I know, but I like to have my opinion heard, Luna,” he grinned, mocking me.

“You know,” Micki said, crossing the line, “you two are so cute together. I saw you during the wedding scene, your passion was amazing. Too bad you hate one another, such a shame.”

Right before I could utter a comeback, Doc ran up and said, “Look what just came in!” Thank you, thank you, thank you Doc! I hadn’t had a witty comeback, so I was glad for the distraction. I didn’t like being made a fool of, especially in front of Sol.

“What’s up, Doc?” Sol asked, grinning at how clever he thought he was. I rolled my eyes and waited for Doc to elaborate, noticing the glossy, rolled-up poster in his hands.

“Is that the movie poster?” I asked excitedly, jumping up and disturbing the removal of my makeup.

“Watch it, Lunar,” Micki warned with a laugh. I wasn’t sure what she was laughing at, but I was too excited to see the poster to worry.

“I didn’t think they would be out for awhile. We haven’t been filming that long. I mean, normally you like to keep the public in suspense,” I commented, eyeing the still rolled poster.

“Aye, you are right,” he said with a grin, “but I decided to throw them a bone. This is a new sales tactic that the people in advertising thought up. If we let out information bit-by-bit, our sales will increase immensely.”

I nodded as if I understood what he was saying. I just wanted to see the movie poster. I had imagined it in my mind many times. My favorite—and the most likely—option I had come up with was a close-up photo of me looking ominous and wretched, one of the pictures that I had taken during my solo promotional photo shoot. I imagined a transparent, faded photo of Sol and me embracing at the bottom, or something like that. That’s how most of my movie posters went.

Doc unrolled the poster and held it up, beaming. He was obviously proud of it. I, however, was not.

“What… is that?” I asked.

“It’s the movie poster!” Sol exclaimed, putting his arm around my shoulder with a grin. Obviously he found this quite entertaining. I did not get it. This was a serious matter. Could this be a joke?

The main focus of the poster was not me. Well, not just me. In the center of the blackness of the poster was me alright, but who’s arms was I in? Sol’s! It had been from one of the more unbearable photo shoots. It was the couple romance photo shoot. The photographers had jokingly named it “Sun and Moon in Love”, thinking that the name was clever. Well, it was clever, I had to admit. A reporter had figured out the irony of our names a while ago (the time when there had been a lot of news about our supposed ‘relationship’ going around, also the time when Sol had ruined my reputation and caused me to despise him) and had used it (Sol meant sun, Luna derived from lunar, meaning moon) which had caused everyone to use it. It was actually very sickening.

Back to the picture. He was holding me in his arms, one of his arms supporting the back of my knees, the other around my upper back. I was dressed in a copy of the wedding dress that I was wearing now (except the dress in the photo was more worn and tattered to add a dramatic effect) and he was dressed in the same suit he was wearing now. One of my arms was around he back, my hand resting on his shoulder. My other hand was pressed against his chest. He was looking down into my eyes, and I was looking up into his. Sol’s face was looking brave, with a hidden sadness mixed into his eyes, the tiniest of smiles on his face. My eyes were wide with worry, my face beaming sadness. The love (acted love of course!) was shown by the closeness of our faces—so close that my long hair fell in waves, brushing his neck—and the yearning in our lips. It was definitely a great picture, I had to admit.

Around this picture were a few other pictures, transparent so as not to distract from the main focus. There was one of just me (the one that I had expected to be the main focus) in the top left corner with the words “Luna Love Lenicki” (my parents had been big on alliteration) in case someone didn’t know. At least Doc had been smart enough to have them put my name first. In the top right corner was Sol, looking off into the distance with an equally as tortured look with the name “Sol Odysseus Lemnant” near. His name was even stranger than my own, though I didn’t like him enough to be comfortable with questioning this.

The last picture was near the bottom, smaller so that viewers of the poster would be shocked upon a closer inspection. It was a close up of Sol and I engaged in a lip lock. My stomach churned, “What’s this?” I asked, pointing to the picture I had just noticed. Sol leaned forward and inspected the picture; obviously he hadn’t noticed it at first either. I noticed his face pale (hard as it was with his perfect tan) as he sent me a backward glance.

Doc swallowed nervously and smiled unconvincingly, “Well, it’s just a picture of you kissing. It’s a tragic teen romance after all.”

“We filmed our first stage kiss today, Doc,” I said angrily. Now, normally I didn’t like to be mean to the man. He was my favored producer/director, and I his preferred leading actress, but he should have known how I would’ve felt about this! Maybe he thought he could trick me, or maybe he thought that I wouldn’t notice, “We didn’t kiss at the photo shoot either, despite the photographer’s constant prodding.”

Doc sighed, then put on a serious, I’m-an-adult-and-you’re-just-a-kid-so-you-will-listen-to-me tone as he said, “I know you dislike Sol, and I know that,” he pointed to the picture that I was so worked up about, “is part of the reason why, but this is my movie. This is my promo poster. I will not be told that I can’t put a picture on it just because you are too stubborn to take a new photo and because you have this strange idea that Sol did something that he didn’t. You’re a great actress Luna,” I didn’t want to hear this, I stood up, trying not to listen as he kept talking, “and I wouldn’t trade you for anything, but if you’d just grow up and listen to Sol… Luna… Luna!” Doc called after me as I ran to my dressing room, slipping off my dress as fast as I could. I had a few moments of silence—Doc couldn’t come into the women’s dressing room—as I put on my own clothes, hung up the wedding dress, and grabbed my stuff. When I exited the door a few quick moments later, Doc’s speech came back to life where he had left off, “You’d find out that he didn’t do half the things that you think he’s done. You two have such good chemistry and I’d hate for…”

“SHUT UP!” I screamed, very close to Doc’s face, “Shut up! Fine! I’m immature and I’m just a kid. Okay!? I get it! Just shut up!” I was still screaming, and I noticed Micki and Sol wearing matching faces of shock, but I didn’t care, “You don’t understand how much it hurt to see those tabloids! I know I got myself into this when I started acting, I know I’m being immature! Okay!? It HURT! I’m a girl, so Sol wouldn’t understand either,” I barely gestured to him before I continued, “The things they said, because of him,” I had moved from sadness to anger again. Then I caught a glance of myself in the mirror. I had black, liquid eyeliner smudged around one of my eyes, giving me the illusion of being punched. That must have been why Micki had laughed earlier, “And now I look like an idiot.”

I pulled my fist back, punched it into one of the concrete walls, and realized how stupid that had been. My fist throbbed, but I wouldn’t show them my pain. I slung my bag over my shoulder, and made a mad dash from the studio. I just wanted to get home. I didn’t want them to see the pain my fist was in, and I didn’t want them to see the tears running down my face (though they had helped to wash away the excess eyeliner on my face).

When I thought I was far enough away from the studio—and when my legs were screaming at me—I slowed to a trudge. My house was a few miles away from here. I groaned and dropped to my knees on the side of the road. What an idiot I was! I looked at my fist, and in the dark I could see the beginnings of bruises.

“Get in,” Sol told me. I looked up and noticed that Sol’s sports car had stopped beside me. The thing was so quiet that I hadn’t heard it sneaking up on me.

I walked around to the passenger side door, ignoring my thoughts to disobey him. I just really didn’t care right now.

The drive to my house was quiet. The silence wasn’t interrupted until the gates in front of my huge house opened with a screech and he came to a halt in front of the stone path leading to my front door.

As I unbuckled my seatbelt, Sol put his hand on my left hand. I winced (that was the hand that I had punched the wall with) but I sat there for a moment. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I pulled away and got out of his car, then began the long journey up the stone path, ignoring the questioning glances from my parents and a maid until I got to my room and crashed into my bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

A/N: Well now! I’ve started another story! This is sort of an idea that just popped into my head, but I’ve also been thinking about it for a long while. This chapter foreshadows two major discoveries that will be shown in later chapters (though one of them is harder to see right now, hehe). I hope you guys like this one. Review! PLEASE! Don’t worry, the story gets funnier and lighter later. Some chapters will be moody like this one, but others will be light and carefree. This story comes really easy to me… I’m sure I’ll be adding to this one a lot.

Review please! Even if it’s bad! Though good is appreciated as well!

Nicki