If you're enjoying these stories, read mmy new story
American Horror: Grind Edition
You can also visit the Pat** on at: belamy20
American Horror: Grind Edition
The next day the two of them shot the Teen People magazine cover.
It was a big teen magazine with serious circulation.
The photographer had them pose against a white seamless: arms around each other, intense eye contact, then back-to-back pretending they didn't know one another.
Halfway through, the photographer got a wild idea.
"Jessica, hug him from behind."
She did—wrapping her arms around Raphael's waist and resting her chin on his shoulder.
The photographer kept directing.
"Raphael, look down at her."
He did.
Their eyes locked.
The shutter went crazy—click-click-click.
When the photographer checked the viewfinder afterward, he looked like he'd just won the lottery.
Day three was the Access Hollywood interview.
National entertainment news, huge reach.
The host asked how hard the dancing was.
Raphael answered honestly.
"Pretty brutal. I trained for two solid weeks, dawn to dusk. My legs felt like they were gonna fall off."
Jessica nodded beside him.
"I had it a little easier—I've been dancing since I was a kid, so I had some foundation."
The host turned to her.
"Did you teach him?"
Jessica thought for a second.
"I tried… but he doesn't really listen."
Raphael jumped in.
"Who says I don't listen? I'm great at taking advice!"
"You don't! I told you to take smaller steps and you kept doing giant ones."
"That's because your legs are short."
Jessica smacked his arm.
"Say that again?"
Raphael threw his hands up in surrender.
"My bad."
The host and the studio audience lost it laughing.
"You two always like this in real life?"
Jessica blinked.
"Like what?"
"Just… bickering and messing around."
She glanced at Raphael.
"Pretty much."
The host leaned in.
"So what exactly is your relationship?"
Raphael and Jessica looked at each other.
Then they answered at the exact same time.
"Friends."
"Really good friends."
The host gave them that classic "yeah, sure" look.
Day four was the Los Angeles Times sit-down.
Real journalism, way less gossip, mostly about the movie itself.
But the reporter still couldn't resist one question.
"The chemistry between you two is insane. Is that natural or did you rehearse it?"
Raphael thought about it.
"Both, I guess. Jessica's a great actress. Working opposite her is easy."
Jessica gave it a second too.
"Raphael is super focused. When he's in a scene, his eyes are only on the moment and the emotion. That makes it easier for whoever's across from him to get lost in it too."
The reporter nodded.
"So your relationship is mostly professional chemistry?"
They looked at each other again.
"You could say that."
Then they both grinned at the same time.
The reporter scribbled something down.
Day five was a fan meet-and-greet.
Hundreds of teenagers packed a mall, screaming their names.
They stood on the little stage answering questions.
A girl with glasses raised her hand.
"Raphael, do you like Jessica?"
The whole crowd went dead quiet.
Raphael looked at the girl, then at Jessica.
He smiled.
"Of course I like her. She's a great actress and a great friend."
The girl pushed.
"Just friends?"
Raphael shrugged.
"What do you think?"
The girl was stumped.
The crowd cracked up.
Another girl shot her hand up.
"Jessica, do you think Raphael is hot?"
Jessica glanced at him.
"He's okay."
The crowd booed.
Jessica burst out laughing.
"Kidding! He's really hot—but don't tell him or he'll get cocky."
Raphael leaned into the mic.
"I heard that."
Jessica glared.
"You're supposed to pretend you didn't."
Raphael played along.
"Fine. I heard nothing."
The crowd howled.
Day six was Billboard.
The soundtrack was getting a lot of buzz because of all the dance scenes.
The reporter asked what their favorite song on it was.
Jessica picked a slow one.
"'You Got Me.' We shot that scene all night long. We were exhausted, but it turned out great."
Raphael picked a fast one.
"'Get Loose.' The second that beat drops I just wanna move."
The reporter asked if they ever danced together off-camera.
Both of them shook their heads at the same time.
"Nope."
"Absolutely not."
The reporter looked curious.
"Why not?"
Jessica looked at Raphael.
"Because he dances worse than me and keeps stepping on my feet."
Raphael fired back.
"That's because you're always rushing the beat."
"I don't!"
"You do."
"I do not!"
They started bickering again.
The reporter just sat there loving every second of it.
The last day was a small media roundtable at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.
A dozen outlets in the room, Raphael and Jessica on stage for one final Q&A.
A reporter stood up.
"Raphael, Jessica—is there anything you want to say to each other right now?"
Raphael thought for a second, then turned to her.
"Thanks for spending this whole week with me. You talk a lot and you're a handful… but having you around made everything feel a lot more solid."
Jessica blinked, then laughed and lightly punched his arm twice.
"Was that a compliment or an insult?"
"Both."
Jessica huffed, then turned to him.
"Thanks for taking care of me this week. You can be annoying sometimes… but working with you was actually really fun."
Raphael raised an eyebrow.
"Annoying?"
"Very!"
"Where?"
"Everywhere!"
They stared at each other… then both cracked up at the same time.
The room broke into applause.
A couple of the younger reporters who'd just gone through breakups looked like they were about to throw up from the sheer amount of dog food they'd just been force-fed.
And with that, the Step Up promo tour was officially over.
That night they got home and face-planted onto the bed.
Jessica mumbled with her eyes closed, "My feet are broken."
Raphael, eyes closed too, answered, "Just sleep. They'll be fine tomorrow."
Jessica rolled over and tucked herself against his shoulder.
"Still… it was worth it, right?"
Raphael hummed.
"Definitely. I never doubted that for a second."
His phone suddenly buzzed.
He picked it up—Ari.
"Raphael, Attack of the Clones fourth-week numbers are in."
Raphael opened his eyes.
"How much?"
"North America: $358 million. Worldwide: $749 million."
Raphael paused.
$749 million?
That was almost $100 million higher than the original timeline.
Ari kept going.
"North America still has a month left, global another three or four. Fox is projecting a final worldwide around $770 million."
Raphael stayed quiet. It was still almost $300 million short of Episode I, so he wasn't exactly popping champagne.
Ari added, "Fox seems really happy. Lucasfilm too. They asked me to see if you're interested in talking about Episode III."
Raphael sat up fast.
"What's that mean?"
"They're worried you're gonna ask for the moon."
Ari was blunt. "You only signed for one film back then, so Episode III has to be renegotiated. Looks like somebody's gonna pay for that dumb decision."
Raphael laughed.
"Tell Lucasfilm I'm not here to burn bridges. I'll do Episode III. Market rate is fine—just don't lowball me."
Ari sounded surprised.
"You sure? This is the last prequel. If you wanted to squeeze them, they'd have to pay."
Raphael shook his head.
"No need. They've been good to me. We might work together again someday."
What he didn't tell Ari was that in ten-plus years the franchise would reboot.
Even if he couldn't play Darth Vader decades later, he might still get a cameo.
And Episodes VII, VIII, and IX had plenty of cool stuff he could pull from.
Ari thought for a second.
"Alright, I'll pass it along exactly like that."
He hung up.
Jessica was watching him from the pillow.
"You really don't want to ask for more?"
Raphael thought about it.
"Star Wars has given me more than money—fame, connections, opportunities. All of that is worth way more. I've already taken enough. No reason to squeeze the last drop."
Jessica stared at him with wide eyes.
"Sometimes I really don't get you."
"Don't get what?"
"Whether you're actually smart… or just an idiot."
Raphael grinned.
"Smart or stupid, I never lose."
There was one more thing he didn't say out loud: Who decided Lucasfilm has to stay with that giant mouse? Why can't it be mine?
Jessica suddenly rolled over, straddled him, eyes bright and clear… but the words that came out were pure filth.
"Time to turn in your homework. I suddenly love the phrase 'turn in your homework.' Don't you?"
Raphael gave up with a dramatic sigh and lay back like a starfish.
"It's all yours. Do whatever you want."
Only then did Jessica smile in satisfaction and lean down…
---
The day after the Step Up promo tour finally ended, Raphael and Jessica spent the entire day on the couch, neither of them wanting to move.
Jessica suddenly rolled over, propped her chin on his chest, eyes sparkling.
"Raphael."
"Hm?"
"Let's get out of here for a few days."
Raphael opened his eyes, suddenly interested.
"Where?"
Jessica thought for a second.
"A real vacation. Somewhere nobody knows us. Just disappear and relax."
Raphael sat up.
"I like this idea."
He grinned. "Europe? Asia? Or stay in the States?"
Jessica shook her head.
"States is out—paparazzi everywhere. Europe's no good either—too many people recognize you there now."
Raphael considered it.
"What about Asia? My fame hasn't exploded there yet. We could find a tiny Southeast Asian island, just the two of us."
Jessica's eyes lit up with mischief.
"Southeast Asia…"
She suddenly smiled, sly and playful.
"I have an even better idea."
Raphael raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
She leaned in close, voice low and teasing.
"Mexico. There's a place called Paradise Island. You can rent the whole thing privately."
Raphael blinked.
"Rent the whole island?"
"Exactly."
Jessica nodded. "Just us. No staff. No security. No paparazzi. Nothing."
Her eyes were shining.
"We can do whatever we want. Run on the beach, swim in the ocean, dance under the moonlight… or do absolutely nothing and just lie in the sun."
She paused, voice dropping even softer.
"And best part? No one will hear us when we…"