The words The Tourist briefly appear, with A Film by Sean Nessan underneath. Then we’re on the Third Street Promenade, with me staring at a group of kids walking hand in hand. It snaps to the same street at night, me in jeans and my first pair of heels tottering like a toddler as I take in the neon lights of the shops all around me. Then we’re at the Walk of Fame, pointing at stars and laughing at some clip on Sean’s phone. It jumps to that day on the boat, me staring in absolute bliss while the mother whale and their calf spout water from their blowholes. Then it’s the observatory, my face pressed to the telescope lens, my mouth open so wide a whale shark could swim in.

In each scenario, Sean gets a close-up of my face. And every single time, I look happy, awed, full of wonder. Maybe I told myself I should hate it here this whole time, but even so, you can tell from my expression that there were parts of this Journey I really liked.

I think about all the moments we shared off-screen: Sean promising to keep my secret when he pulled me in the pool. Kissing Sean for the first time after his swim meet. Going back to his place after the observatory and getting closer to him than I’d ever been with another person.

This Journey wasn’t just full of moments I liked. It’s been full of experiences and firsts I really loved.

Sean’s film ends on the roof of the observatory, me leaning against the short wall, looking at the sea of lights below us. Then, as the camera closes in on my face, you can hear my voice off-screen whisper, “Blue below. It’s beautiful.”

The movie ends and the crowd loses it, Sean’s mom and Raul most of all.

I turn to Sean, but he won’t look at me. He stares straight forward, a swallow making his Adam’s apple bob, the only movement in his entire body.

“Sean.” I gently grab his elbow. “That was amazing. That was—”

I’m cut off as he lurches up from his seat and barrels down the row. He trips and stumbles over people’s feet and the hems of dresses, but he doesn’t stop. He gets to the aisle and practically runs out of the theater.

I’m left sitting there, alone.

     Sean     

It was perfect. That short was exactly what I wanted: a montage of moments showing Ross just how much they’ve enjoyed their time up here with me. But now, after that chat with Kavya, I see how totally, awfully manipulative it was.

If only I could have found Ms. Molina beforehand and pulled this thing before Ross saw it.