"No, it was just a moment. We were moved by the scenes we had just done, although I think a kiss doesn't mean much. We remain the good old friends from before."
-Lexie, at 20, for an interviewer after the premiere of one of her films.
Cake is good when you eat it. Not so good when you breathe or use it as eye drops. Nick knew that well when he dipped my face in our cake.
- Ew. I don't want cake with makeup, Lexie.
I removed the cover from my eyes and looked at him. I should have thought of that before performing such an act.
"You better not want to have a murderous cousin," I murmured between my teeth, burning with anger. Of course, after chasing him, I paid back. Now I'm sure he already knows how bad it is to breathe and use toothpaste as eye drops. I asked Nick's younger sister not to record any of this on the cameras and, obedient as Evie was not, ended up doing a live broadcast on his Facebook. The other day, it was all we saw in the media. "Cousins who are not cousins celebrate birthday with mischief" was the most published headline.
There was not a year in which we spent the anniversary without appearing on social media. It wasn't the main hashtag, although it was still in the middle of news from gossip sites. But if at home, with a simple cake, only in the presence of my family, it would cause a commotion… imagine when we do it for the rest of Hollywood.
- Your brother sent his regards - my adoptive mother said, giving me a tight hug.
- And your sister said your gift should arrive in the mail this week. They would love to be here with you this year, but you know how it is… Harvard is exhausting both of them in such a way that…
- No problem. - I smiled, as if it wasn't even me who paid for their academic life. - I'll send a message to them, thanking them.
Later, just after Nick came out of the bathroom after two hours in it and spread a rotten smell in the house, my adoptive mom and father asked me to sit with them as they would grab a photobook filled with photographs of my birth mother with them in Yale. I couldn't get a good look at it because I still had ice cream on my lashes, but I thanked it nonetheless, even though I knew my mom wasn't much like me. I probably had my biological father's genetics, whoever he was.
The Kleins didn't know who he was, my mom never spoke to them about it, and the guy they suspected... humpf... they couldn't remember his name. I also didn't want to know, I admit. They loved me as if I was their own blood. I didn't need anything else. I was very happy that way.
- She would be proud, Lexie - said James, my foster father. - She always said she dreamed of having children. And when she had ... Well, the point is that she would be very proud to see how successful you are.
- Winning an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress is a dream for any parent - said his wife. I looked at Nora mockingly. She sighed. - I'm suspicious to speak, I understand... - And she raised her arms in surrender. - But I would also continue to admire you even if you were not my daughter.
I was not. Not biologically. But the Kleins didn't seem to consider that for a minute. The other day in the morning, they drove back to San Diego and I spent the rest of my post-birthday at my adoptive uncles' home in LA. Well ... home wasn't quite the word. Mansion suited it better.
Leah and Connor Klein. Hollywood darlings since I started to talk. And now they were dragging their son and their niece into the same environment. "Poor kids", the psychoanalysts thought. "A troubled adolescence like that can only generate rebellion". I find it funny that people judged me that way, so blatantly, while, in fact, few really knew me.
The luck was that I didn't care that much. My uncles, also actors, had taught me to breathe through these things. I still had a lot to learn, but I was confident that one day I would be just like them, both in talent and in awards and in the way they dealt with their reputations. They didn't seem to care that much. Not anymore. And, by the way, it's read "they", because they were simply, excuse me, Leah and Connor Klein, husband and wife in the movies and in real life. Or, for me, just aunt and uncle.
Only now there were also Lexie and Nicholas Klein, the cousins who are not cousins and who were part of the family of one of the most idolized couples in America, if not the whole world. Their son started before me, of course, but I ended up going the same way. Results? Nick and I had just made a movie in which we were each other's ex-boyfriend and girlfriend. It was the first time that the two of us were referred to as a couple, and although we didn't kiss or anything in the film, acting with my cousin in that position was very strange. He wasn't my blood cousin, but that didn't change how I felt about him.
Okay... when I met him I realized how handsome he was, but the innocent 11-year-old brat that I was, was too busy suffering from the death of the great-aunt who raised her. And the same was true of Eric, who was also not my blood brother, but I considered him as if he were.
I had already made six movies with Nick. Two others without. With the previous one, recorded two years ago, I won an Oscar, but my cousin was not in the cast. And in this one, in what we would do the ex-couple, the trailer was about to be released. The first film I made by myself was a kind of spin-off from Nick's spy movie series, so although he didn't show up, you could hook it up with him, so I didn't count as much as a solo movie. I was about 14 or 15 at the time.
In my uncles' mansion, before I went to my house, Nick and I both shot a short video thanking our fans for their happy birthday wishes and posted on social media. It didn't take long for the post to be successful, since the kids were on vacation and everyone was using their phones all the time.
- Say it, Viola - I said when I answered the call from the dashboard. My agent cleared her throat.
- Thanks for recording the video with Nicholas. It was a good move.
- I didn't do it for the play. The fans deserved some consideration. And thanks for the happy birthday... or not.
- Happy Birthday.
- Yes, THIS is socialization.
She cleared her throat again. She would do this when she wanted to maintain a serious posture. I always wondered if she realized this, but it would be a little impolite of me to notify the addiction.
- You have an interview tomorrow with Chat Express.
I made a lazy face.
- Do I have to go to New York?
- Your flight leaves at nine.
"Wonderful," I mumbled.
- Margot is going to your house now.
- Is she?
I smiled, a little surprised. I loved Viola's daughter. My agent did not respond.
- Is it or not?
- Do I need to confirm?
I could feel her eyes roll at that moment.
- I'll hurry - I said.
- Just don't die.
"What a difficult request," I murmured, turning around the corner of my street full of small and medium-sized mansions.
- See you at the airport, Viola. Bye.
My friend was waiting for me at the front desk. I honked so she could get in the car and goto my garage with me. Walking around my property could get a little tiring. There was more garden than walls and concrete, although it was not as big as my uncles'. After all, I lived alone and had no children or nephews around, invading my home all the time, stealing my food and ... anyway, you get the picture. Me, my cousins, and my brothers loved to rent out at Leah and Connor's house.
- My mother who forced me to choose that bag - said Margot, already in my car. - You can swap it if you want.
I smiled, starting:
- There is no need. I loved it.
- My mom may know you longer than me, but I still think that damn bag has nothing to do with you.
In fact, I had only met Margot that year. She had just finished Journalism in Amsterdam when I first saw her. It was obvious that we would get along. She was 22, a year younger than me, and had a natural and sweet sense of humor. Worthy of a kind person like her.
- I'm serious - I confessed. - I liked. It is unlike anything I have and it goes very well with a Dior dress that I recently bought.
She nodded, convinced, and gave me a trunk hug.
- Happy late birthday.
- Thanks. I couldn't answer everyone yesterday, sorry.
- No problem. - She shrugged, opening the car door. - Just let me steal one of your donuts then I'll forgive you.
She ended up grabbing two, but I let her do it. There were still many.
- Did you get congratulations from Brandon?
I frowned when I heard about my friend who hadn't spoken to me in months.
- No, I didn't, but his fiancee sent me a happy birthday by their name.
- She suffers - Margot murmured, biting her donut. - Do you think it's still because of the kiss you gave him?
I shrugged, not sure what Emma's perspective on the matter was. It couldn't be very good, but she also never commented on the subject, either with me or the media. Like Brandon, she didn't speak to me anymore.
- She's his fiancee, Margot, and it's only been 6 months since the photo of our kiss leaked. If they didn't break up because of this, then it is because she believed it had happened much earlier. I don't think it's because of that kiss.
Margot rolled her eyes at my consideration.
- They didn't date at the time - I explained, remembering that my friend was in Amsterdam during that time, away from the Hollywoodian problems her mother faced every day. - We were still recording our movie. The three of us, together and wonderful, having to pretend to be best friends during filming and the premiere.
I sighed as I remembered the tiring experience, the glazed look somewhere on my kitchen wall.
- I thought Brandon was really your friend.
- And he is! - I exclaimed, stealing a donut fiercely and forgetting the wall for a moment. - He just hasn't spoken to me since he got engaged. But that does not mean that we are no longer friends. We're just ... away.
She gave me a skewed look.
- I know... Aham... friends who haven't spoken in over six months ...
- I'm serious! And Emma was also my real friend.
- WAS she?
I huffed.
- She IS!
Letting go of this, she grabbed the other donut.
- My mother thinks that this engagement and this separation from you is a media thing. - She sighed. - But I think Emma has her nose in the middle of it. And I have a decent feeling that it is, yes, because of the kiss.
I shrugged my shoulders.
- Emma can be quite ... persuasive. - I bit my lip. - But I don't know, Margot, I really don't.
And I hated not knowing.
- Well ... I know. She sucks - she concluded with a disgusted face. - You can see it in her face.
- You only saw her in the movies, you don't even know her - I objected. - And I confess that I do not consider her such a terrible person. She's very nice, you know?
- And an actress too. I'm sure she plays the saint. A saint with a fake nose and head full of fake hair. Or rather, a human Barbie whose smile doesn't fool me.
I sat on the kitchen counter, right next to her, laughing.
- It may even be that the withdrawal was due to the photo of the kiss - I admitted -, but it doesn't matter. They will get married. I think this is what I should be concerned about...
She smiled mischievously, understanding my rambling more like a regret.
- This is exactly what you don't want to happen...
I censored her with my eyes.
- Don't make it up - I protested. - I want them to be happy. Everybody deserves to be happy.
- You are?
- I consider myself a happy person, I think.
My friend rested her chin on her hand, her elbow on the counter.
- I'll rephrase: are you happy NOW?
Where did she want to go with that? She had done Journalism, not Psychiatry.
- I have a family that loves me - I argued -, a fat and lazy Pug, a beautiful house, a job that I like ... I have everything. I should be very thankful.
- Gratitude is different than being enough - she countered. - Is it enough?
I got up to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and sighed, wanting to go to sleep right away.
- It doesn't have to be, Maggie. You can be happy with less than that, with a little bit of gratitude.
- Can you be happy without your best friend?
I felt so tightly in my stomach that I had to lean against the arch of the door before I turned to her and said something that wasn't entirely a lie, but that I also didn't know if it was the fullest truth:
- YOU are my best friend.