Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job. It was the only thing that made any sort of sense in my life. However, everything else? The constant isolation forced on you, the paparazzi hounding you, everyone dissecting your every little move… After a while it felt like there was a noose around your throat that was being tightened by everyone in your life.
Yes. That’s exactly how I felt.
Indifferent. Tired.
The only time it seemed like I was breathing again was when I was on a movie set, pretending to be someone else.
In a way, my life was a play.
“Oh my god, Jason. Yes. Yes, I knew it would be like this with you.” She moaned as her words slurred. I picked up my pace. This was the only time she’d be getting fucked senseless by me; I should’ve been focused on her.
“Keep it quiet,” I hissed in her ear as her cries started to get higher. “You don’t want to get caught getting fucked in the street, do you?”
“I do. I do. Yes! Yes!”
I dropped my head to her shoulder and raced for the finish line. The quicker this was over, the quicker I could get back to my house.
Grabbing her ass, I wrapped both of her skinny legs around my waist and kept drilling into her. Her sharp cries echoed in the dark alley, blending with the music that was coming through the walls of the nightclub her back was against.
“Oh, fuck me, Jason,” she screeched in my ear.
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” I said through gritted teeth. With all her shrieking, I was already sobering up.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the task at hand. When she suddenly tipped over the edge to fucking dreamland, I swore and came after her as she kept squeezing my dick rhythmically.
Tipping my head back, I felt every muscle in my body relax and experienced the bliss I appreciated so much, even if it was only for a few seconds.
That’s exactly when I heard the running footsteps coming from behind us. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the first of many blinding flashlights.
“Fuck,” I swore, my hands quickly getting rid of the condom before they could get to us.
Jenna slumped back on the wall and sighed, an even more doped up smile beginning to form on her lips as she started to fix her hair.
Zipping up my fly, I pulled down her skirt for her as she was too busy already beaming up to our intruders over my shoulder.
Shit! They were almost on us. Thankfully, my body was big enough to hide her from their cameras so I doubted they had gotten any shots of what we’d been doing just seconds before. At best, they would think I’d taken her out for a quick make out session.
“Jason! Jason! Is this a new relationship?” the one with the mustache yelled.
Click. Click. Click.
“Did your love start on set? Are the rumors true?”
“When are you goin’ public with this?”
Click. Click.
“Did you start a relationship to promote your new movie?”
“Jason! Talk to us man! What were you guys doing back here?”
A few of them snickered.
Click. Click. Click.
What’s-her-name threw her arms around my neck and beamed at the cameras. “How did you find us back here? This was supposed to be secret. We were being clever.”
My face a mask of calm, I gently shrugged off her arms yet again and opened the private back door to push her back into the club.
Her eyes were as big as saucers and she couldn’t do anything but gape at me as I closed the door on her face and turned to face the paps still shouting questions at me. Thankfully, there were only seven or eight of them.
“Jason! There is a clip of you with Zoey where it looks like you are getting busy in your car. Now you are with Jennifer, any comments?”
Ah! So that was her name.
“Have a nice evening, guys,” I said in a bored tone, ignoring their questions. I put my hands in my pockets and they parted for me to pass, their voices getting higher and higher in my head. I didn’t specifically hear what they were saying, but I knew I would be getting a phone call first thing the next morning from my agent, Tom Symond, who had become a good friend over the years, and of course my publicist, Megan.
A few minutes later, I was in my car racing back to Bel Air, still as edgy and empty as I’d been at the beginning of the night.
Chapter Six Olive
“Can you please remind me why you couldn’t come with me again?” I whispered to Lucy on the phone as I pressed my forehead to the wall in the corner of the white waiting room where I sat, waiting to be called in.
“Babe, calm down. If it wasn’t the little bitch’s class, you know I’d be there holding your hand every step of the way. The woman already has it out for me; I can’t give her more ammo. By the time you get home, I’ll have the tequila shots ready to celebrate. Focus on that. It’ll help.”
I closed my eyes. I was seconds away from throwing up. To calm down and focus on something else, I started to pace up and down in my little corner. Happy thoughts, I encouraged myself.
Happy, happy thoughts.
There was a blonde girl sitting on the U-shaped white couch. She’d been busy texting away and then taking useless selfies for the last ten minutes. She was all dolled up and had a so very obviously fake tan that was already going splotchy on her. She hadn’t let that thing—that phone that had mickey ears on it—down even for a second ever since she’d stepped in through the doors.
I mean, for god’s sake, how many freaking pictures can you take while sitting in the exact same spot, smiling the same fake smile? I’d stopped counting after thirty.
Looking at her making another pouty face as she squeezed her breasts together with her arms, I groaned.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” I whispered into my phone.
“Oh shut up. Pull up your big girl panties and bra and wow them with your pretty little smile.”
“Since you are doing such a crappy job with the best friend gig, at least remind me why Char couldn’t come with me?”
Lucy let out a long breath. “Charlotte would be trembling right beside you if you took her with you. That’s why we didn’t tell her where you were going, remember?”
I did. She was right; if Charlotte were there, they would remember us as the shaking duo—not the best first impression you’d want to make with anyone, let alone the studio people who were interested in adapting your book into a fucking movie.
“I hate you.”
“I love you too, my anxious babe.”
“Lucy,” I started again in a miserable tone. “The meeting was at 2:30, it’s almost 3. Maybe I should leave? Maybe they made a mistake scheduling this. I mean, who am I kidding, right? Clearly, this isn’t happening. I don’t want to wait around to see someone jump out and scream, ‘Jokes on you, sucka!’ I just wanna come home. Can I come home, please?”
“No, you can’t come home. I forbid you to come home before you take that meeting and come back with good news and lotsa money. Now, close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Do it, Olive.”
“Fine. My eyes are closed shut. You can come and pry them open if you want to win the best friend of the year award.”
“I already own the shit out of that award, babe, so that’s a useless threat. Are your eyes closed?”
“Yes,” I huffed.
“Ok. Now, imagine you are a river.”
“Ahhh,” I groaned. Not this crap again. “What are you doing?”
“Calming you the hell down.”
“By telling me I’m a river?”
“Yes. Now, shut up and imagine that you’re a river. You are flowing; no one and nothing can stop you. You feel the sunlight on your…whatever and it makes you happy. You are a twinkle of laughter in the air. Then, you turn into a small waterfall, no, you turn into a majestic waterfall and then yo—”
“Ok, ok, Lucy.” I cut her short before she could sputter more bullshit. “I’m calm. You calmed me down. I’m a cold river that hears twinkles of laughter in the air and then turns into a majestic waterfall thing.”