Remember My Name. Havana Adams

smiled at her, unsure of what to say, surprised that she’d been the one to call time on their kiss.

      “Sometimes. A lot,” he admitted wryly as he pushed his hand through his hair. She smiled slowly at him. “But,” he continued, “you didn’t fall at my feet.” Deanna stared unblinkingly at him before she spoke.

      “Doesn’t it get boring?” She asked the question seriously, expecting an answer from him. And for the first time, Alex considered the question, he considered his life in LA, and for the first time in ten years he answered honestly.

      “Yeah, it gets really boring.” Deanna nodded as though something she’d always thought had been confirmed. “But…” And now Alex trailed off. Deanna continued to stare at him, waiting for him to finish the sentence. “But sometimes, it’s just easy, convenient to say yes.” Alex stared into the deep brown eyes and recoiled at the pity he saw in her eyes. He was Alex Golden, superstar, who was she to pity him? And yet as she stared unflinchingly at him, he knew she had seen past the glamour.

      “I’d better get Nikki, so you can get on with…” She trailed off, already heading into the bedroom to find her friend.

      Alex watched her go and a wave of melancholy spun through him. That one kiss had laid bare the truth that he had so assiduously ignored. He was bored. He’d been coasting now for so long that he no longer remembered what it felt like to be fully engaged with anything. And more than anything he didn’t want to get on with stuff, not the way they’d been. Things, he realised, would have to change.

       CHAPTER 5

      “Jordan! Jordan! Jordan!”

      The fans were chanting the name of their favourite character as Talia walked down the nondescript road, on the outskirts of London, which would take her into the studios where Encounters was filmed. The gathered throng of fans screamed themselves into a frenzy as a car with tinted windows swept through the gates and was waved through security. Talia tucked her ID pass under her shirt. Much as she loved the show’s passionate fans, who had made Encounters such a ratings winner, the last thing she wanted was for them to spot her badge and realise that she was anything other than one of the many drones that kept the studio running. In good weather and bad, there was routinely a hardy bunch of fans armed with autograph books and posters gathered outside the studio’s gates, waiting to catch a glimpse of the actors arriving for work. Though most were harmless, a few had on occasion tried to snatch passes so they could sneak onto the set. Talia ducked around them, not removing her badge till she was safe inside the gates.

      “Hi, Wayne,” she greeted the security guard as she flashed him her staff ID badge.

      “Good night was it?” He grinned cheekily back at her. Though he was probably the same age as her, in his late twenties, Wayne seemed to have worked at the Ashbridge studios forever and was something of an institution.

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” Talia replied as Wayne continued to grin at her.

      “Saw the pictures in the papers for myself. Looks like a good night, if you know what I mean,” Wayne replied with a wink. “But nobody bothers to invite us poor security guards,” he finished with a mock grumble. Talia smiled curiously at him, about to ask him what he’d seen in the papers, but he had already turned to sign in another guest and Talia began the walk to her office, her thoughts turning to the day ahead and the rehearsal drafts and story documents that would have to be issued that afternoon.

      From the outside, Ashbridge was unremarkable; a group of slate-grey buildings and a large car park that looked like so many out-of-town warehouses and factories. But moving further in, deep into the rabbit warren of roads and exits and corridors, you finally came to the beating heart of the studio. Anyone who thought working in television was glamorous clearly hadn’t been here. From the single-storey canteen building, the smell of cooking food wafted out but Talia wasn’t fooled. She’d worked here long enough to know that the smell was deceptive and that the food, when one was confronted with it, was little more than school dinners, unappetising and fattening. And yet the stars and the crew of Encounters were often seen tucking in at the tables in that old canteen, which had stood, rumour had it, for close to a hundred years.

      As she turned away from the canteen, entering the long corridor that would take her towards her office, Talia slowed, taking in the photographs that lined the walls on either side of her. Many of them were black and white photos, from the studio’s heyday when some of the early classics of British cinema had been filmed there. Stars from the forties and fifties who would go on to conquer Hollywood were captured in these photographs when they’d filmed movies at Ashbridge. Beneath each photograph was the name of the film and the year of its release. As she moved forwards, Talia noted the years ascending and then the photographs changing from black and white and into colour. She stopped at the final photo. Her eyes darted to the name of the film, Hiding Places, the last film that had been shot at Ashbridge before the studio had been sold to television broadcasters. Though she had walked this very corridor hundreds of times in the four years that she had worked on Encounters, Talia had never stopped to look at the pictures and now her heart quickened as she looked at the still shot of a young Alex Golden on the set of the film that had made him a star. For a moment she was lost in the startling blue of his eyes. Even in a photograph, he seemed to reach out to her, dragging her in. Suddenly a door slammed and Talia saw that someone else had entered the corridor. Shaking her head, she turned away from the photograph and continued briskly down the corridor, putting Alex Golden out of her mind. By the time she punched the call button for the lift and then stepped into it, she was already itemising the list of tasks she had to complete that morning. Her latest story document would be going up for executive approval today and of course she’d be getting her promotion in the afternoon. Talia couldn’t wait for the day to get started.

      As she took a seat at her desk, Talia sighed at the number of new emails awaiting her attention. Emails from costume, location, script editors; all with requests that were somehow pressing. By the time she’d sorted through the requests and demands being made of her, it was almost lunchtime. Talia looked up, surprised to note that she’d been buried in emails for almost two hours, so much so that she’d failed to notice that Olly the young assistant storyliner, whom she’d been training, hadn’t yet arrived for the day. Perhaps he’d drunk even more than her at last night’s party. She allowed herself a small smile, remembering Olly’s drunken moonwalk across the dance floor. Deciding to break for lunch, she reached down into her bag to grab her purse. The smell of the unappetising grub from the canteen suddenly seemed like exactly what she needed. As she unzipped her bag, the zip gave way beneath her fingers.

      “Dammit,” she muttered, and then she shrugged; once the formality of her promotion was dealt with that afternoon, she’d head right over to the Mulberry store and treat herself to a new designer handbag. As she straightened up, purse in hand, she started as she was confronted by a tall form slinking into the office. “Christ, Ol, I didn’t hear you come in.” Talia stood as Olly shuffled into their shared office. “Bit hungover are you?” Olly nodded vaguely, not meeting her eyes.

      “Yeah sure.” He leaned down to his computer as though checking his emails and Talia noted that his face was red.

      “What’s up with you?” Talia asked, as Olly’s red face seemed to deepen even more. He sat down mumbling.

      “Nothing.” At this response, Talia shrugged. Olly was often difficult to read and he tended to keep to himself, but his phenomenal knowledge of the show and his instinct for story more than made up for his occasional strangeness.

      “Want anything from the canteen?” she asked and for the first time he looked her in the eye and Talia noted that he seemed anxious.

      “Look, Talia…” he began just as their door opened to admit Dom, the AD from last night who had kissed her. Now it was Talia’s turn to feel her cheeks warm as Dom strode up to her already speaking, barely noticing Olly.

      “Talia, look we need to…” Dom began and Talia