Work Text:
i spy with my little tired eye
tiny as a firefly
a pebble that we picked up last july
down deep inside your pocket
we almost forgot it
does it ever miss wicklow sometimes?
Gina sighed against the steering wheel, her forehead pressed uncomfortably on it as she screwed her eyes shut, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself. To say it had been a long day would be an understatement – Gina was a ticking time bomb, on the edge of teetering into insanity, stress clawing at her throat and ribcage like a rabid animal scrambling to cause as much damage as it possibly could.
When Gina had accepted the position to choreograph for a televised dance competition, she had thought it would be something fun. Something that would spruce up her repertoire, that would increase her chances at solidifying herself in the dance industry in LA. She didn’t realize that with it would come producers who would milk anything for a bit of drama, and competitors' parents who would try and bribe her to make their child look the best, and all else that came with reality TV.
She supposed she should have expected it – it was a reality TV show in the vein of America’s Got Talent meets Dance Moms. But, when she thought about how happy Ricky was teaching children every day – Gina just thought maybe taking this position would allow her to mentor young dancers and help them reach their full potential. She wanted to nurture them the way she wishes her talents were nurtured when growing up, the way she wished Ricky’s talents were nurtured – the way she knew Ricky and her deserved.
The thought of Ricky is what eventually prompted her to lift her head, swiping her fingers under her eyes to wipe away tears she hadn’t realized had gathered, and collect up her things to head into their apartment.
Ricky and Gina’s apartment. The one thing she had come to look forward to after long days of marketing meetings and filming and getting yelled at by overzealous parents and short tempered directors.
It was late – past 11:00PM. Gina felt a tiredness seep into her bones as she jiggled her keys to unlock the door to their apartment, trying to stay as quiet as possible in case Ricky had already gone to bed. She had texted him earlier to let him know she’d be home late, and not to wait up, and he’d simply replied with a picture of him and their cat Spooky snuggling together on the couch watching TV. It had been the highlight of her taxing day.
She silently skulked into their kitchen and living room area, placing her bag and coat down on the dining table, noticing Ricky had left a lamp on for her, and a plate of cling wrapped dinner on the kitchen counter. Gina felt her lips tip upwards, her boyfriend’s considerate actions always cheering her up ever so slightly, despite how weary she was feeling.
She wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, so she picked up the plate of food and placed it in the refrigerator, leaning her back against the cool door once she had closed it again. It was then that she noticed the mass slumped on the couch, still and calm.
She stalked over to the living area, taking her heels off so she could pad as quietly as possible, and saw that Ricky had fallen asleep on the couch, a fluffy blanket crumpling slightly around his lap, Spooky curled into his left side. Gina’s heart warmed at the sight of them, realizing that Ricky must’ve waited up for her despite her telling him not to, and that he must’ve fallen asleep trying.
His lashes fluttered delicately over the tops of his cheeks, his mouth slightly ajar as he breathed deeply in his sleep, and Gina stood and admired how peaceful her boyfriend looked in that moment. The kind of peace she wished she could absorb from him.
As if leaning forward and touching him would do that for her, she reached her hand out and gently threaded her fingers through his curls, scraping her fingernails over his scalp and running her thumb delicately across his brow bone. Ricky sighed softly at her touch, his head subconsciously leaning into it, seeking the warmth of her hand. He remained asleep, but he looked significantly more content as Gina continued to brush her fingers through his hair.
Gina herself breathed a little easier at being able to touch her boyfriend like this, and she flickered her gaze around the room to see if any dishes needed clearing or if anything else could be done to help her wind down before she turned in for the night. It was then that her eye locked onto a little trinket that she often forgot about – perched on the TV cabinet, next to a framed photo of Ricky and Gina locking lips during a particularly breathtaking sunset in front of the river Seine.
It was a pink, bedazzled Eiffel Tower - the ugliest knickknack Gina had ever seen, but Ricky insisted they buy it when they had visited Paris together a couple of years ago. She almost laughed out loud at the memory of it but was able to hold it in so as not to wake Ricky. She thought back to the time they were together in Paris, and her demeanor relaxed a little more.
*
TWO YEARS AGO
“Gi, come on, we have to get it!” Ricky pulled Gina into his chest from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder and snaking his arms around her waist so he could hold up the bejeweled trinket in front of her eyes, “It’s calling our name.”
“Ricky, that thing is tacky as all hell,” Gina was laughing, and she reached her hand up behind her to lay it against Ricky’s cheek, his holiday stubble scratching pleasantly against her skin, “Look at all the handmade artisan products in this store. You could get some nice artwork for your place!”
“Okay, but it’s funny!” Ricky poked his nose into her cheek, before spinning her around to face her properly, one hand resting comfortably on her waist like it had always belonged there (and with how good his hand felt holding her, Gina could honestly believe it did), and one hand still holding up the ugly Eiffel Tower knickknack, “Getting this right here would be like getting one of those I heart New York t-shirts when you visit New York. It’s ironic. It’s camp.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Gina shook her head, but she took his hand and dragged him to the store counter anyway, paying something horrendously overpriced for it considering it looked like it was covered in pink glitter and plastic rhinestones – far from real diamonds or even cubic zirconia.
But the silly grin on Ricky’s face as the storeowner wrapped it up in patterned tissue paper made it worth it.
Ricky swung the shopping bag in one hand as if it were a prize as his free hand reached for one of Gina’s, tangling their fingers together and pulling her out of the store into the orange glow of the setting sun. Ricky led her away from the store front, and then pressed his forehead against hers, a small smile ticking at his lips as he just looked at her.
For a couple who had been dating for five years, Gina still couldn’t believe how giddy she still felt when Ricky paid attention her like that, or touched her like that, or looked at her like that. She felt butterflies kick around in her stomach, and she smiled shyly as she stared back at him.
“What?”
Ricky simply smiled, before leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers. Gina immediately melted into the kiss, her grip on his hand tightening slightly, her other hand sliding up his chest to settle on the side of his neck. They stayed that way for only a short amount of time, conscious they were in public, and when Ricky pulled away, quickly pecking the tip of her nose, Gina blushed and bit her lip, her stomach thrilling when she saw Ricky’s gaze drop to her movement.
“What was that for?” she whispered. Unable to help herself when Ricky was looking at her lips like that, she leaned up and pressed two, three more kisses to his lips.
“A thank you,” Ricky muttered back, his eyes glittering with warmth, “For always indulging me.”
“You deserve the world and more, Ricky Bowen.”
“I have it already, Gina Porter. You’re my world.”
Gina felt the air rush from her lungs at the comment, and she couldn’t help flinging her hands to cup both his cheeks, pulling him in for another kiss. Ricky’s hands very quickly came to settle on her back, pulling her closer and smiling into her lips, tilting his head slightly to deepen it. Gina slowly slid her arms around his neck, pushing up onto her tiptoes and biting down softly on Ricky’s bottom lip, lighting up with a heady heat when he gasped lowly into her mouth.
Then, some passer-by began to yell French profanities their way, and they pulled apart. Gina breathed heavily, hiding her face in Ricky’s chest, giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. Ricky lifted his hand up in apology, also chuckling, pressing his lips onto the top of Gina’s head.
“I want to take you somewhere,” he whispered, pulling her down the street with both arms wrapped around her, their bodies a lumbering heap.
Gina was very aware of how annoying they were being, but she was just so happy that she couldn’t seem to find it in herself to care. They were in Paris! The city of love! She would act like it if she wanted to.
Eventually they had made their way to the Seine, and were swinging their hands between each other as they walked along the path.
Ricky spoke up, “I wanted to watch the sunset over the water.”
“It’s pretty,” Gina hummed, stepping closer to Ricky to press her arm against his.
“Gina…”
“Yeah?”
She turned her head to look at Ricky, her smile dropping slightly when she noticed the nervy edge to his expression, his fingers fidgeting on the handles of the bag keeping their knickknack safe.
“Ricky, what’s the matter?”
“I – I love you so much Gina. It’s been five years, and every day I just feel so lucky to know that you are in my life, and that you are there are for me, and that you help me to be a better person every day. I wake up, and you’re the first person I think of. And I go to sleep and you’re the last person I think of. And then you sleep over, and I’m just so happy because I get to be with you for that little bit longer. And then I buy stupid trinkets like this because I think about you.”
Ricky holds up the bag with a laugh, and Gina shakes her head, a perplexed smile on her face.
“What are you trying to say, Ricky?”
“I’m trying to say that this stupid trinket is ours, not mine. I want to share my life with you. I want to put this ugly Eiffel Tower up somewhere where we can both see it, and I want to wake up in the morning and be able to kiss you straight away, and I want us to be able to be like this – Ricky and Gina in Paris – always.”
“Ricky…”
“So, move in with me. I want you to move in with me. Or I could move in with you. Your place is much nicer. Gina, I just want to share my life with you. All of it.”
Gina didn’t know why she felt tears well up in her eyes, because she truly could’ve seen the offer coming. Ricky had been staying over at her place and vice versa often, they had barely been apart from each other except on especially hectic days. Ricky had a drawer stuffed full of his things in Gina’s closet at her place, and even when they couldn’t see each other, they spoke on the phone just to check in and see what the other was up to. Ricky had bought a cat and let her name it.
They were already two halves of the same whole.
Gina figured she felt emotional because the shift in their life had never put it into words. They had never established this milestone of theirs. But it was something that had been on her mind for a while, and to hear that Ricky had been thinking it too, that they were together in even something as trivial as this – it spoke to Gina just how perfect they really were for each other.
Gina felt Ricky brush a tear from her cheek, looking exceptionally worried, but he kept his voice soft as he said, “Hey. What are you thinking?”
Gina smiled at him, placing her hand over his, and hoping her voice wasn’t too wobbly when she replied, “That living with you is the most perfect thing you have ever suggested.”
“Yeah?”
Relief pooled into Ricky’s eyes as a grin inched its way onto his features.
“Absolutely,” Gina giggled at the adorable way Ricky bounced on his heels in excitement, “But, you’re definitely moving to mine. I love my heated towel racks too much.”
“Okay, Miss Porter, we get it – you’re a loved celebrity and you have rich people things,” Ricky teased.
“Don’t whack me for cashing in on my Frozen documentary success!” Gina scoffed good naturedly.
“I’m glad you did,” Ricky hummed, pulling her back along the path following the river, “Who else would buy me these extremely expensive hair care products that keep my curls looking bouncy and luxurious?”
“I can’t have my man looking like a mess when he’s with me,” Gina poked his side, grinning up at him, brimming full of love and warmth and happiness.
Later on, they would ask another tourist to take a picture of them to document their momentous occasion. But, for right then, they teased each other and kissed each other and just spent time together, and it was enough.
*
PRESENT DAY
Gina felt the last of her stress seep out of her for the night after recalling their trip. The best part about living with Ricky, and she could say it with full confidence after these two years, was the fact that no one else could better sooth her mind after a bad day.
And with that thought, Gina slid onto the couch, pulling the fluffy blanket over her lap to share it with him, and wrapped both of her arms around his middle, snuggling her face into his chest. She let out a soft sigh at how warm and comfortable he was and loosened her grip slightly when she felt him shift.
“Gina?” Ricky mumbled, voice raspy from sleep, eyes still closed, “What time is it?”
“A little past 11,” she whispered, resting her chin on his chest so she could look at him, “I told you not to wait up.”
Ricky was slowly blinking his eyes open, taking a minute to adjust to the dim light, and he smiled softly, brushing his lips over her hairline, “I wanted to see you.”
Gina smiled, and sunk deeper into him when his own arms wrapped around her tired frame, pulling her tighter to him.
“Here I am,” she let her eyes trail all over Ricky’s sleepy face, warmth building within her at the sight of unfiltered adoration seeping into his eyes.
“Beautiful,” Ricky whispered, before dropping his head on top of hers and closing his eyes again. Gina did the same, and she heard him mumble, “How was work?”
“Terrible. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Okay,” Ricky agreed easily, his palm running a soothing path down her back. Gina felt her muscles relax further, putty under Ricky’s touch, and so when he said, “Let’s get you to bed,” all Gina could do was nod and allow Ricky to pick her up and plonk her gently onto their bed.
He pulled out her comfiest pajamas for her to change into, throwing in her favorite sweater of his for extra comfort, and when she was ready to sleep, he pulled her back into his chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then to her cheek, and the softness of it all was enough to lull Gina into a sleepy state. It took all her effort to lean up and press her own kiss to his chin, before her forehead thudded back onto Ricky’s chest, her eyes demanding to be closed, and she drifted to sleep in the safety of her boyfriend’s arms, the scent of him enveloping her and guiding her into the peaceful slumber she needed.
on the way home
i wrote a poem
you say, "what a mind"
this happens all the time
“Hey, babe,” Ricky smiled at Gina as she got into his car.
“Hey,” Gina smiled shortly, looking visibly frazzled as she leaned forward to peck a kiss to his lips.
Gina could see him frown in her periphery as she scrambled with her hair, trying to pull it back into a bun to get it away from her flushed face. They sat in silence for a while. Ricky turned on the ignition and pulled away from the studio Gina had a work meeting in that day.
After Ricky allowed her to collect her thoughts, knowing that she would tell him what was bothering her when she was ready, he lifted one hand from the steering wheel and settled it on her left thigh, thumb stroking softly at her skin that peeked through at the end of her skirt’s hemline. He only had a shoot her an expression of concern for Gina to spill what had made her so frayed.
“It’s Brian,” she sighed, putting her head in her hands, and massaging her temples, trying to ease the aching that was building there.
She felt Ricky squeeze her thigh comfortingly, still brushing over her skin in that soothing matter, so she tried to focus on that instead of her whirling thoughts.
“Brian, as in the producer?” Ricky clarified, never one who was good with names.
“Yeah,” Gina nodded, “He wants me to purposely berate some of the kids and praise some of the others to cause tension between them and their families, even if they’ve done nothing to warrant it. It’s ridiculous! I’m their choreographer! If he wanted a drama stirrer, he should’ve hired me as an actor. What does he want from me? Does he want me to purposely squash a child’s dreams in front of the whole nation? All those kids are so extremely talented, and they all respect me as their choreographer. Putting them down like that would crush them.”
“So don’t do it,” Ricky offered, quickly looking away from the road to throw a meaningful glance her way, “Gina, they’re lucky to even have a dancer like you on their show. You could be doing anything right now. If they lose you, they lose their viewership. Don’t compromise your morals for some cheap drama.”
Gina groaned, “I know. I get that. But it’s also the point of the show – it’s reality TV. I just wish I could break away from this contract and take all those kids and just teach them somewhere else.”
Ricky hummed in agreement, let the thought sit for a moment, then said, “Well, you could. Maybe not now while you’re still in your contract. But in the future. I’m sure my music school has room to expand into a dance studio too.”
Gina smiled, her heart warming at the idea, “You think so?”
“For sure. People would flock to learn to dance from Gina Porter herself.”
“And to learn to play an instrument from Ricky Bowen.”
“I’m less well known. They’d be coming for you.”
“They’d come for me and stay for you.”
“They’d come for you, stay for you, but be pleasantly surprised when I’m also not that bad.”
Gina laughed, finally relaxing a little bit and taking the hand on her thigh in both of her own. She fiddled with his rings, stroking her fingers over his guitar string callouses, before saying, “That sounds perfect.”
“We can work towards it together,” Ricky offered, gently ticking at Gina’s palms with his fingers.
“Speaking of work,” Gina decided she wanted to change the subject, sick of stressing over her work more than she needed to, wanting to use what little time she currently had wisely when she was with her boyfriend, “How’s your song coming along? The one your manager said was due last week?”
“You can’t rush perfection,” Ricky tutted, but Gina could see he was a little nervous.
After the release of the Frozen documentary, Gina had decided to use the exposure to further her dance career. Ricky was a little more hesitant to chase fame the way she had – supportive of Gina in everything, but not entirely sure what it was he wanted with his own future. It took him a while to come to terms with the fact that he actually wanted to go to college – something not many people but Gina herself thought he was capable of doing.
When he got in to a music school not too far from Salt Lake, Gina was ecstatic for him, and Ricky could hardly believe it himself.
Gina remembered telling him, “See! You can do anything you put your mind to.”
It was the first time Gina had seen Ricky cry, as he scooped her up in his arms, spun her around, and then buried his face in her neck as he thanked her for supporting him, for being the only one to believe in him.
So he went, and he thrived as Gina expected he would, and he also took courses in teaching and business, and he opened up his own music school.
“I want to be able to give kids an outlet when they have nothing else,” Ricky had whispered into her ear on the night he graduated from college, holding her in his arms on his father’s couch, away from the rest of the crowd Mike had invited over to celebrate his success. “Without music, I would be nothing. I want to show to kids that they can be something, they can do something worthwhile and meaningful and fun. Even if nobody else believes it.”
“You wouldn’t be nothing without music, Ricky,” Gina had leaned up to kiss his temple, smiling fondly at him, “You are everything just being who you are. But I love you for wanting to give back in that way. I knew you would do something special with your skills. I just knew it.”
It was years later that Ricky decided that he wanted to explore his own music career, having written songs sporadically throughout the years but never having consolidated any complete project. With what demos he did have, and what he confessed to Gina he thought was a little help from the nostalgia of him having been a polarizing figure from a hit Disney+ documentary, he was able to score a contract with a label pretty effortlessly.
Now, he just had to write a coherent album, which he was working toward in the present.
“I know you’ve been working on something,” Gina squeezed his hand, scrunching her nose, “I can hear you plucking away at your guitar in the spare room. Our walls aren’t that thick.”
“You got me,” Ricky smiled at Gina, the nerves in his eyes still there, but softened slightly, “Okay. Well – the song I’ve been working on is… it’s about you. For you.”
“Oh,” Gina whispered, her stomach dropping slightly, anticipation and delight swelling within her, elated that after putting his music aside for so long, the first thing he’d want to write about was her. “Can I hear some of it?”
“I’ve only written the lyrics for a verse or so.”
“That’s okay.”
Ricky swallowed, licking his lips to ease his jitters, before he said, “Okay. Okay, here goes.”
He began to sing, softly and melodiously as he always did, that honeyed yet raw quality to his voice that Gina loved so much. She listened closely to the lyrics as he sung:
the only place i call home
you are
every hope and dream i've ever had
you are
in other lifetimes, without any doubt
i'll keep choosing you
like a cool breeze on a summer day
you are
like a brightest star up in the sky
girl, you shine
keep making me wanting more
girl, you are what i am looking for
Gina felt happy tears prick behind her eyes, and she took Ricky’s arm to hug it to her chest, carefully while he was driving, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
“You really think all that about me?” she teased, but the wobbly tone in her voice betrayed how moved she really was.
“I’m not even finished with the song yet – I have more to say,” Ricky bantered back, finding her knee to squeeze his assurance.
Gina found herself forgetting why she was even stressed in the first place, looking at her boyfriend’s side profile, tracing the line of his nose with her eyes, the pout of those lips she loved to taste so much, a spring of a curl that refused to stay put falling into his vision. She reached over to brush it back, and Ricky turned his head, gaze staying on the road, pressing a kiss onto her palm.
Feeling a little dizzy from emotion, Gina simply said, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Sing me something else.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
industry disruptors and soul deconstructors
and smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
and the voices that implore, "you should be doing more"
to you, i can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
“You know what, I can’t talk about this right now,” Gina fumed down her phone, her hand shaking with the effort of not raising her voice to her boss, “Brian – you can call me during office hours, or you can wait until you see me again in person. Now, let me enjoy my weekend with my boyfriend. Goodnight.”
Gina saw Ricky leaning on the doorframe of their room, waiting for her call to end. She had noticed him creep closer from the living room when her voice started becoming more emotional, his hands tight fists as he crossed his arms over his chest, a protective frown marring his features.
“What happened?” Ricky asked, poorly concealed anger wobbling on his voice, as he stepped forward to ease the phone away from Gina’s white knuckled clutches. “What did he do?”
Gina took one look at Ricky’s concerned eyes, the brown of his irises trembling with worry, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. She burst into tears, ugly sobs retching past her throat, streaks of thick droplets falling over her cheeks onto the carpet, overwhelmed by her frustration and her stress.
Ricky’s body language immediately softened at the sight of it, his irritation at her producer being replaced with the need to comfort her the way he always seemed to know how. He took her in his arms, his hand to the back of her head, pressing her face into his chest, the other hand running soothingly up and down her back, softly swaying them as he whispered, “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
“I’m not okay,” Gina blathered into his chest, clutching his shirt between her fingers, “Ricky, I don’t know how I’m going to take four more months of this. This man is the devil incarnate!”
“Okay, I need you to breathe, Gi,” Ricky amended, softly taking her shoulders in his hands and pushing her back to look in her eyes, “Can you follow my breaths?”
Gina nodded shakily, looking at his mouth and imitating him as he breathed in, held, then breathed out, held. And repeated. Gina slowly found herself beginning to calm down, her wracking sobs minimizing to small hiccups, the free flow from her eyes drying up, her fists unclenching slightly to reveal Ricky’s wrinkled shirt beneath them.
“Tell me what happened,” Ricky asked with a soothing tone, leaning forward to kiss the corner of her eye where a stray tear had fallen.
He was about to pull away when Gina brought her hand to his cheek to keep him there, slipping her other arm around his neck to pull him closer to her in a hug. He immediately melted into her embrace, wrapping both of his arms around her middle and pulling her tighter into him. Then he slowly shifted them down onto the bed, tugging Gina so she could settle comfortably on his lap, one hand on her waist keeping her steady, the other reaching up to wipe at the tear tracks staining her face.
“It’s Brian he – he’s considering kicking some of the kids out of the dance troupe. For no reason,” Gina shook her head, “Some of the most underprivileged ones as well, who mind you are extremely talented – just for the shock factor.”
“That’s terrible,” Ricky shook his head, his hand on Gina’s waist twitching in a manner that told her how pissed off he was at learning that information as well.
“And the worst part of it all is that he wants me to tell them the news! On camera!” Gina scoffed incredulously, shaking her head manically, “Me? Imagine! After months of telling them how much potential they have, how talented they all are. After hours nurturing their skills and turning them into the best goddamn dancers they could possibly be at their age and skill level.”
“It’s ridiculous,” Ricky nodded, a deep anger simmering behind his eyes, “He wants you to do his dirty work, so he doesn’t look like the bad guy to the audience. You can’t agree to this.”
“Of course I’m not going to,” Gina nodded, her voice rising as she grew more and more perturbed, “But, I can’t believe he would do this to me. What am I even doing there Ricky? I accepted that job thinking I could be like you – thinking I could encourage these kids and teach them their worth, and be that stepping stone into the fame that the Disney+ documentary awarded me. But all the stupid producers and their parents want is the highest ratings, and whatever will fatten their damn wallets the fastest. It’s outrageous. I can’t believe they’re willing to do something like that to children.”
“You remember that the documentary wasn’t exactly kind to us either,” Ricky gently reminded her.
Gina deflated slightly. She did recall. She remembered the way the documentary framed Ricky to be a homewrecker. The way it painted her out to be a cheater. She remembered, before the cast interviews and the debriefing episode where they all got to talk about their experiences were released, how harsh the public were. How mean spirited their comments were, how they remarked on and nit-picked every little thing she said, how people started to flip the script - saying things like she was the real villain of the so-called love triangle, that she wasn't desirable enough to be fought over, that she deserved to be ditched by both boys. A whisper of the worst of it creeped into her mind; comments saying that she deserved to die.
She remembered how much all the drama and chaos and mess and abuse was instigated by Channing and the executives he worked for – the grown men who should have known better than to treat vulnerable children that way, to throw them to the wolves with no preparation.
“Yeah, I remember,” Gina sighed.
“But do you remember what made it better?”
Gina looked into Ricky’s eyes, trying to follow his point.
“Corbin,” Ricky smiled, and Gina frowned in confusion. He laughed as he elaborated, “When he eventually got his head out of his ass, he actually pulled though. He told Channing to ease up. He spoke highly of us to the public. He became our support through it.”
“Okay, sure,” Gina nodded, agreeing with the statement, but still unsure where Ricky was going with it, “What’s your point?”
“You’re stuck in this contract, it’s true,” Ricky nodded, using his free hand to cup Gina’s cheek, stroke her cheekbone with his thumb, “So do good while you are. You can be that support to those kids. You can be the person they turn to if someone tries to take advantage of them, or if anyone tries to make them doubt their worth. Screw Brian. You never agreed to being Abby Lee Miller. You agreed to being Gina Porter. And Gina Porter stands up for what she believes in.”
Gina had to admit that she felt strong in that moment, knowing that was how Ricky viewed her – as someone who was capable and compassionate and determined. Ricky had shifted his hands back to Gina’s waist after he finished speaking, so Gina took his face in her own hands and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, pulling apart a miniscule distance to rest her forehead against his.
“I want to do that. I do,” Gina whispered, licking her lips to savor the taste of her supportive, empathetic boyfriend, “But I don’t feel that strong when I’m with them. They’re all so – so conniving. They know exactly what to say to get what they want. I’m too soft for it – to stick up for myself. It’s embarrassing. What happened to the Gina who could put anyone in their place with a single sentence?”
“It’s not embarrassing,” Ricky shook his head, his eyes fond as he gazed up at her, “Your strength is in the way you care. Show them that; that you caring about these kids is going to be better than any cheap drama they can concoct by turning you into Simon Cowell.”
Gina felt a warmth emanate through her at his understanding. Sometimes, she felt Ricky understood her more than she understood herself, and suddenly, she didn’t feel so winded. She didn’t feel so clammed up.
She was still extremely anxious about heading into work and what would come with it, but it felt like less of a burden. Even if absolutely everyone abandoned her, Ricky would always be there for her. That much she was confident about.
She wasn’t sure how to express her gratitude in words, so she brought Ricky’s face to her chest and pressed her nose onto the top of his head, giving him the tightest hug she could muster while still perched on his lap. She felt Ricky press a kiss to her clavicle, his arms encircling around her middle, and she sighed at his attention, feeling safe but exhausted after her meltdown.
“I think,” Gina muttered, and she felt Ricky shift his head so he could hear her better, “I think…you need to put down the remote controller. Switch off the TV. That was two reality TV stars you mentioned in one pep talk. I never knew you paid so much attention to pop culture.”
Ricky laughed, and lifted his head to look at her, bumping his nose into hers, “Gina, I’m like a sponge. You put one of those shows on in the background while I’m creating my lesson plans, and I could tell you exactly what happens at the 24-minute mark on Season 4 Episode 8.”
“First you become a musical lover, then a reality TV enjoyer…” Gina tutted, “Junior year Ricky would have a coronary.”
Ricky scrunched his nose at Gina’s teasing, and before she knew it, she had been picked up and thrown onto the bed, Ricky tickling at her sides and causing her to squeal out peals of laughter. She swatted at his hands, tears once again forming at the sides of her eyes, for an entirely different reason this time.
“Ricky, stop!” she gasped, laughing so much her sides seemed to split.
“Just a few more seconds for good measure,” Ricky teased, tickling her a moment longer before letting her go – but not very far. He had positioned himself over her, one hand on either side of her head, and Gina could admit she enjoyed the view from where she was lying.
He grinned down at her, a goofy smile splashed across his features, while Gina puffed heavily trying to regain her breath. Eventually, when she had calmed down enough, Ricky leaned down to kiss her, moving his lips against hers slowly and teasingly as she breathed him in, her hands creeping into his hair. She felt two things: her body come alight, the way it always did when Ricky touched her and kissed her that way, and a sense of complete calm – she was loved and supported by someone who truly understood her, by someone who made her feel safe.
Eventually, he pulled away, smiling dreamily down at her, his love for her obvious in the way his eyes flickered to take in every detail of her face. He whispered, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am,” she nodded, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “Thank you. For talking me down.”
“Any time. I love you. I’m here for you,” Ricky said sincerely, his expression growing serious, “And if you ever need someone to kick Brian’s ass, I’ll do it. No questions asked. I’ll even wear a ski mask, so he doesn’t know you sent me.”
“As much as I would love to see that,” Gina giggled, shifting her hands to run over his chest and shoulders, “I think you were right. I can handle myself.”
“That’s my girl.”
Gina smiled again, her heart bleeding with feeling, and she swung her arms around Ricky’s neck to roll him around and land on top of him, squeezing him tightly into a fierce hug. Ricky immediately hugged her back, accepting he was now stuck under her, and they stayed that way until they both fell asleep.
they said the end is coming
everyone's up to something
i find myself running home to your sweet nothings
outside, they're push and shoving
you're in the kitchen humming
all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
Gina feels like she’s in a time loop as she sighs against the front door, back pressed to it, handbag and coat hanging limply at her sides in each hand. She had stood up for herself that afternoon, demanding they treat her like the A-lister she was, threatening that she would walk otherwise. Brian was not happy, but he didn’t argue. Gina would take the small wins she could get.
It didn’t stop the parents from hurling insults at her when their child wasn’t being given enough attention in their eyes, or when one of the other kids seemed to be getting more attention. Gina would try to explain that in some areas, some children needed more focus while others had the ability to develop their skill without much guidance, but speaking to fame hungry parents was like speaking to a brick wall. There was no getting through to them.
The one thing keeping her grounded was the promise that once her contract was over, she could walk away and begin her business plans with Ricky – something she would enjoy doing, something meaningful and worthwhile, something she couldn’t achieve while she was leashed to the TV show.
She rubbed her eyebrow, trying to soothe the dull ache that had developed behind it, and finally took a step forward into the living area.
The sight before her mellowed her immediately. Ricky in the kitchen, in a soft yellow frilly apron Gina’s mom had gifted her a year ago, humming some tune she recognized but couldn’t name. Multiple pots were steaming away as he stirred and tasted and added some extra spices or herbs here and there. He hadn’t heard her walk in if his intense attention on their meal was any indication.
Gina let herself look at him for a moment, took in his content expression, the small tug of a smile on his lips that revealed he was in his element – comfortable and happy. A warm blanket you would sink into at the end of a long day. All Gina’s frustration faded into nothing as she watched him.
She recalled how supportive he had been in the last couple of months, talking her down from her panic attacks, soothing her stress by distracting her with fun activities or dates, listening to her vent out her worries, offering solutions where needed but ultimately just being there for her.
It was enough for Gina to realize that Ricky was it for her. She already knew that intellectually. But something had settled deep in her bones in that moment, as she watched him cook for them, in the home they had made together, that told her that all she ever needed and all she would ever want was right in front of her. And as long as she had him, she could get through anything. Life could slice its sharp claws through her, and Ricky would be waiting with the balm that was his presence, ready to heal any festering wounds.
She would always make her way back to him.
She quietly stepped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and stepping up on her tiptoes to rest her chin on his shoulder, taking a peek at what he was making. Ricky barely even startled, used to her embraces that came with her arriving home from work, and he twisted his face to look at her, leaning forward to welcome her with a small kiss.
“Hey, baby,” he murmured against her lips, before he turned around again to stir the contents of the pot again.
“What are you making?” Gina pressed closer into his back, smoothing her hands from his middle up to his chest.
“Enchiladas,” he scooped out some of the sauce in the pot, bringing the spoon up for her to taste, “Your favorite.”
She hummed in delight at the burst of flavor on her tongue, tangy tomato and a building heat tingling at her lips, “I’m literally in love with you.”
“Tell me something I don't know,” Ricky grinned, tasting the sauce himself, “Oh yeah… I have to hand it to myself, that is damn good.”
Gina giggled, hiding her face between his shoulder blades to mask how amusing she truly found him – though she knew that he could tell already by the vibration of his own laughter against her forehead. She pulled away from him, leaning her hip on the kitchen counter before asking, “Is there anything I can help with?”
“I still haven’t chopped the cilantro,” Ricky pointed over to the bowl of fresh herbs ready for garnishing.
Gina nodded and washed her hands, watching silently as Ricky began humming his tune again, wiggling slightly off rhythm to it.
Smirking at the sight, and picking up a spare knife to begin chopping, Gina commented, “You know, I think this dance school idea has come just in time. How is it that you’ve been dating me for seven years, and you still have no sense of rhythm?”
“We balance each other out!” Ricky raised his voice in defense, checking on the chicken being cooked in a pan, “You bring the movement, I bring the music.”
“That could be our company catchphrase.”
“Our company?” Ricky turned to her and raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter to take in her facial expressions, “So, we’re serious about this? You want to help expand my school?”
“Yeah,” Gina said sincerely, making sure to catch his gaze so he could see she was being genuine. Then, after a beat, after Ricky’s smile grew in excitement at the prospect, Gina teased, “I mean, if I want to nurture the next generation of talent to be the best they can possibly be, who better to learn from than Ricky Bowen himself?”
“Please, keep going. I thrive off of praise,” Ricky turned back to his meal prep, a light smile on his face, before his body language brightened and he whirled back around to face Gina, his face lit up with excitement, “Which reminds me, I have to tell you something incredible that happened today!”
“Shoot,” Gina put the knife down to properly listen to him. It was the least she could do after the nightmarish time she was having, and how attentive Ricky was when she needed to speak. She wanted to be that same support system for him. She would give him her full attention whenever he asked for it.
“So, you know how I’ve started running a band program for the more advanced kids?” Gina nodded her acknowledgement, smiling at his enthusiasm. Ricky continued to prattle on, “Well, Steph, one of the more shy girls, she came up to me today and told me she had written a song. It was the coolest thing ever – and I read over it and Gi, you would not believe how moving it was. Little Steph! Only fourteen! Anyway, the other kids wanted to read it too, and you could tell she was a little embarrassed, but she let them see. Simon, one of the guitarists, suggested that they all work together to come up with music to go along with Steph’s lyrics. I hadn’t even said anything to encourage it – they came up with the idea all on their own! So, they spent the whole session brainstorming chord progressions and riffs and – and God I felt like I was going to cry. It was everything I dreamed the band program would become.”
“Ricky!” Gina beamed at her boyfriend, taking his hands in hers and swinging them between each other, “That is so amazing! Look how well you’ve guided them – they’re becoming their own musicians!”
“I kind of can’t believe it actually happened,” Ricky’s huge grin was stuck frozen to his face, excited energy presenting itself in the trembling of his hands, lightly bouncing on his heels, “I’m trying to encourage them to have something ready to play for our end of year concert. They could have an entire set of original songs – you never know!”
“You’re incredible,” Gina said softly, swiping her thumbs over the backs of his hands.
Ricky shook his head, squeezing back at her hands, “No, the kids are. I’m just helping them along.”
Gina simply smiled, sure that Ricky had a lot more to do with their success than he let on, but allowing him his moment of humility. Ricky would always put the achievements of others above his own, it was just who he was. It made him happy to help others accomplish great things, and Gina wouldn’t deny him that happiness, especially now he was chasing his own dreams too.
“And how was your day?” Ricky asked tentatively, letting go of one of Gina’s hands to gently tuck a curl behind her ear.
Gina shrugged, not wanting to ruin their perfect moment with her complaining. But, she also knew Ricky wouldn’t want her to hide her emotions, so she simply said, “I’m getting there. I’m trying my best.”
She sensed that Ricky knew there was more than she was letting on, if his knowing smile was any indication, but he let it go, replying with, “I admire that about you every day.”
Gina practically melted at the words, stock still in her position as Ricky turned his back on her once more to pour his sauce over the cooked poultry. If there was one thing Ricky could do, it was make Gina feel like she was the most special person in the world in a single sentence.
Gina had never been one for words – all throughout her life people had made promises that they could never keep, and Gina had learnt not to trust those promises. She could only be convinced of their genuineness if it was backed by action. Gina was still that way, to an extent.
But being with Ricky had changed her slightly. Whenever Ricky said something, he always proved he meant what he said by what he would do afterwards. Their first ever kiss, which Gina remembered vividly to that day, was the starkest proof of that – he had proved he wouldn’t let her go ever again. And years later, whenever he promised her something, he would always follow through with it.
Ricky was the one person Gina could always believe at face value. He would tell her something, and she knew he was telling the truth. It was why his simple statement made her realize something she was shocked she hadn’t sooner – Ricky expected nothing from her. He simply loved her. Her accolades and accomplishments and TV appearances meant nothing to him. Ricky loved Gina for being. She, by herself, was enough for him.
And that was everything to her.
“Ricky?” she whispered, unsure if he would hear her, but unsurprised when he did – always attuned to her as he was.
“Gina?”
“You’re my favorite place.”
Ricky smiled fondly at her, leaning out to touch a hand to her waist, to press a kiss to her forehead, to mutter an I love you onto her skin. He turned back to place the now wrapped enchiladas into the oven, and Gina memorized the sounds of his soft hums, the clanging of the oven door, the running of the sink’s faucet as he began to lather the now empty pots with dish soap – sounds of home.
Gina felt a buzz in her back pocket, and pulled her phone out to inspect who was trying to get in contact with her. The Caller ID flashed Brian’s name, and Gina cringed at the sight of it. But, nothing was going to get in between her quality time with Ricky, not anymore. She switched her phone to silent, and opened a drawer to put it away from sight, where it wouldn’t distract her.
Picking up a nearby dishcloth, warm from its proximity to the recently alight stove, Gina stepped up to Ricky and placed her hand out in expectation for the pot he was scrubbing clean. He sent a mischievous grin her way, lowering his hand into the water and flicking soapy bubbles onto her clothes.
Gina gasped, flicking her towel at his chest, “Hey! These are my good clothes!”
“And you look so beautiful in them,” Ricky raised his eyebrows in mock innocence, and Gina stepped closer to him to shove at his chest good naturedly.
Ricky caught her wrist before she could pull away, and leaned down to give her a proper kiss, full on the mouth, sucking gently at her bottom lip in that way that always thrilled her. Gina pulled away slightly to press some of her own kisses along his jaw, her teeth scraping gently against his skin as she smiled through them, relishing in the serene look of bliss on Ricky’s face as he chased her lips to capture them once more, giving her one last languorous kiss.
Gina’s heart was beating wildly by the time they pulled away from each other, the water in the sink bubbling over slightly in their inattention, a physical manifestation of Gina’s own love for Ricky which felt like it was spilling out through her every pore.
“Oh no,” Ricky chuckled slightly, turning off the faucet, and trying to scoop some of the soapy bubbles onto the unwashed dishes. He peeked over at Gina, who was already looking at him with a loving expression, and he titled his head, “What are you thinking?”
Gina dropped her gaze from his, drying the large pot carefully as she thought about how to respond.
Finally, the response that would truly cover over anything she could possibly be feeling:
“I’m happy.”