Accidental Texting: Finding Love despite the Spotlight

by Kimberly Montague

  The Red Carpet

  I was starting to think it was all easier than I had imagined when a female in a black suit walked over to us with a man in a dark shimmery blue suit and white dress shirt.

  "Hello Chrissy," the man said as the female disappeared back down the line.

  "Hello Floyd. How are you this evening?"

  "Brilliant as usual. Who's your friend?"

  She gestured to me. "This is Morgan, Sean's guest."

  Nathan tugged me behind him, and I didn't argue. I nodded in the new guy's direction, and he nodded back at me, his longer, almost black hair flopping with the movement.

  "Well now, that's interesting." He cocked a perfect eyebrow at me, but then turned to look back down the carpet.

  I was sure I should know who Floyd was, but I couldn't place him. He certainly looked like a star with his chiseled body and sharp features.

  Nathan put his hand to his ear and turned back to face me. "Look that way, Morgan."

  I turned to look inside the theater, but I didn't see anything interesting. The crowd went completely wild. The noise was higher than it had been all evening. I tried to turn back to see the carpet, but Nathan blocked my view.

  "You don't want to see that," he said quietly in my ear.

  I was able to see Floyd wince and turn toward the theater as well. Floyd. My mind finally remembered where I heard the name before—Michelle's model boyfriend—it made a lot of sense now.

  When Nathan moved, I saw Michelle and Sean interviewing together and posing in front of the poster. He had his arms around her. I managed not to show a reaction, but I couldn't watch it. Floyd walked around to the other side of me and Nathan scowled at him.

  "Easy there," Floyd said, holding his hands up. "I just can't watch that. Cut me some slack, huh?" Nathan continued to scowl, but didn't make any other movements to block him. Floyd was as tall as Sean, which meant, even in heels, he was looking down at me. "So Morgan, you like movies?" I just stared at him, and he looked a little annoyed. "Look, I could be wrong, but it seems we're both doing a pretty good job trying not to watch the carpet, so we might as well do it together. You like movies?"

  He had a point, and a distraction was certainly called for. "Yes. Movies are fun."

  "There now, that wasn't so hard. I used to like movies. I like action movies. I can't stand the romantic shit anymore, though. You know, it just sort of sucks to watch it. I have a feeling we'll be avoiding watching a good deal of tonight's film. Um, you from California?"

  "No. I'm from Vermont." Nathan squeezed my hand, and I realized I shouldn't be giving information to this guy.

  "I miss the snow. It just doesn't feel like winter around here." The cheering and screams erupted again, but I managed not to show a reaction. Floyd shoved his hands roughly into his pockets. "Snow is fun. I grew up in Maine—snowball fights were my forte'. You like snowball fights?"

  "I usually get hit pretty hard in them, but yeah, it's fun. It's nice to sort of let go and throw things at people."

  "I could throw a few snowballs right now. How about you?" I nodded, understanding his meaning. He seemed to relax a bit. "You ice skate? I miss the ponds we'd play hockey on."

  "We have a pond not far from where I live. I usually get out there a few times a season."

  "You any good?"

  "No." I huffed. "I mean, I don't fall, but I can't do anything special. I like the wind on my face—the speed."

  "I hear ya—it's pretty liberating."

  My curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to know how much longer it would be. There weren't any other actors on the carpet. I had already watched a ton of people walk past me. It wasn't tough to find the only two people left on the carpet: Michelle and Sean. But as I watched, Sean put his arm around Michelle's waist and smiled down at her so lovingly. She laughed in response, looking just as in love with him. My heart ached, but when he bent down to kiss her, smiling the whole time, my heart cracked open. She was so beautiful and charismatic, and the crowd went crazy to see them kiss. I clenched my jaw and tried to keep the pain from stabbing me in the chest.

  I turned my back to the carpet again. Floyd leaned toward me. "You shouldn't have looked."

  I took slow, deep breaths and closed my eyes for a moment. I can do this. I can do this. It's just acting, Morgan. He's just acting.

  "Hey." Floyd nudged my arm lightly. "You okay?"

  I nodded, but I wasn't. What if Sean was "just acting" with me too? What if I was being played? He was clearly incredibly capable of making everyone believe he loved Michelle, including me.

  I could hear Nathan mumbling behind me, but I couldn't focus on it. I had to calm down. It was just acting. I had to relax. He wants me, I kept telling myself.

  Nathan got close to my ear. "He's coming, Morgan." I nodded and bit my lip.

  Floyd touched my arm, and I looked up at him. His eyes were full of sympathy. "It doesn't help right now, but it gets easier."

  I just stared at him, trying to pull myself together. Nathan tugged on my arm as Chrissy pointed toward the doors. We walked forward into the lobby where it was nice and quiet. There weren't any fans or photographers. The other guests had already taken their seats.

  Nathan looked around carefully before rubbing my upper arm gently. "He's on his way in."

  I looked up at him and managed a deep breath. "Thanks," I mouthed, unable to trust my voice yet. He nodded at me, and the noise of several people entering made me close my eyes and turn toward the theater doors. I didn't want to see Michelle or Sean's smiling face or any of it. Sean's cologne assaulted my senses as he wrapped his arm around my waist just like he had with Michelle. I felt sick.

  "Morgan?" I shook my head at him. "Just walk with me," he whispered. "We'll take our seats. It's dark in there. Follow my lead."

  I nodded and made my feet move. I kept my eyes on the ground as an usher led us to our seats by flashlight. I didn't pay any attention to anything around us. Sean moved me to a seat and pulled me down as he sat down. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly, but I kept my eyes down.

  A few moments later, the sound started and Sean leaned close to my ear. "Morgan, please. I don't know what you saw, but I'm sorry, love. Morgan? Talk to me, please."

  I leaned closer to him and took deep breaths. "Give me… tell me… get my mind off it. Please?"

  He put his arm around my shoulders and his lips to my ear. "I'm deathly afraid of spiders. Anything with that many legs has got to be pure evil, and the damn things are always out to get me. When I was in college, my dorm had a perpetual problem with spiders. They were everywhere. It got really bad around Christmas my sophomore year. It was so bad that I refused to sleep for fear one was going to crawl all over me as I slept or worse, crawl in my ear and lay eggs. I finally had to go home to sleep every few days just to make it through. I have trouble even looking at the disgusting things."

  I wasn't entirely sure I believed him. It just didn't fit him. To test his story, I put my hand on his arm and moved my fingers, mimicking spider legs. At first, he didn't seem to notice, but as I traveled up his arm, he grabbed my hand firmly and narrowed his eyes at me as a small smile pushed its way through my previous upset.

  "You tease me, and I'll spend the next few weeks teasing you until you're completely insane." He winked and pulled my hand to his lips, smiling mischievously. A moment later, he became serious as he whispered, "I love you, Morgan. That's real. You and me—we're what's real."

  I nodded, feeling the rest of the tension leave me. With his voice filling my head and his arm around me, I started to relax.

  About ten minutes into the film, I worked up enough courage to look at the screen instead of the seat in front of me. The next ten minutes I watched were completely about Sean's character, Macon. I thought it would be tough to watch him and separate the character from my Sean, but it actually wasn't that difficult. He had the same face, but Macon had a southern accent and a stiffer way of moving. Even his facial expressions were different.
Michelle's character, Melissa, was super shy and came from an abusive family. She was nothing like any of the characters I'd ever seen her play before.

  I was actually able to get into the movie, that is, until the scene where Macon kissed Melissa. Sean nudged me when I looked down. I turned my eyes to his, and he held my gaze, rubbing my thigh where his hand had been sitting for most of the movie. His eyes were shifting, though. They moved from staying connected to mine to staring at my lips. That look I loved so much crossed his face, as he focused on my mouth. I was dying to kiss him—really kiss him, but not here. I don't know how long he stared at me like that or what I'd missed in the movie, but I noticed Stewie lean forward and look at us. Sean turned away from me and leaned in Stewie's direction before watching the screen again. I tried to do the same, but every few minutes, I glanced at Sean, and more often than not, I caught him looking back at me.

  The way his thumb stroked circles on my thigh along with the tension of not attacking each other right then and there made it tough to concentrate on the movie. Thankfully, it was a bit of a depressing movie where Macon is torn away from Melissa, so there weren't anymore scenes with the two of them making out. The last scene was horribly sad, leaving you wondering if Macon would make it back to Melissa and wondering if Melissa was going to survive her abusive family long enough for Macon to get back to her. If I hadn't been so obsessed with Sean's hand and the way he kept staring at my mouth, I certainly would have been teary-eyed. As the credits rolled, everyone clapped and cheered. Sean winked at me.

  The next few minutes were a blur of getting out of there. We were rushed out through a back exit I would never be able to navigate to on my own. The second we climbed into the limo, Sean grabbed my cheeks and kissed the hell out of me.

  Stewie was the last to get in and shouted, "Hey now. I'm getting in. Just take it down a notch, huh?"

  Sean completely ignored him and tilted his head to push his tongue deeper into my mouth, battling with my own. When his hand roamed up my thigh though, I pulled back and shook my head at him. His eyes narrowed a little, and he surprised me by shoving me back into the seat and attacking my mouth again, his hand going right back to my thigh.

  "Sean!" Stewie yelled. "Be a fucking gentleman!"

  He pulled away from me and looked down into my eyes, rubbing his thumb across my lips. "Sorry. You drove me crazy in there."

  I tried to catch my breath, but it was still sprinting out of my chest. "Me? You did that."

  Sean sat back in his seat. "I'm not kissing Michelle anymore, Stew. I'll smile and put my arm around her, but no more kissing."

  Stewie groaned loudly. "We've been through this, Sean. I'm too tired to go through it again with you. Why don't you just m—"

  "Stewie!"

  "Okay, alright. No more kissing tonight. We're only staying an hour or so anyway."

  He kept his eyes on me as he continued his conversation with Stewie. "Where does everyone think I'm going tonight?"

  "You have an interview on the East Coast tomorrow morning."

  Sean lowered his voice and leaned closer to me. "I have an interview with you tomorrow morning."

  "What am I interviewing you for?" I smiled, playing along.

  "I want to be your new bell boy. I'm really good at ringing your bell." I could feel myself turn bright red. Sean laughed and kissed me. He was so different.

  "Why are you so relaxed?" I asked with surprise.

  "You were brilliant. You were perfect. We made it through it all, Morgan. And you're still next to me."

  I smiled and moved closer into his arms, relieved I'd made it through the awful red carpet experience.

  The After… Party?

  The after-party was much easier than the red carpet. There were still photographers and people interviewing Sean, but Michelle was coming late to the party, and we were leaving early. I stayed standing behind Sean for the most part, and no one paid much attention to me. One interviewer asked him who the gorgeous redhead was behind him, but Stewie stepped forward and shook his head, so the interviewer switched to another question.

  Everything was going pretty smoothly until Michelle came in with her entourage. Interviewers hounded her for a few minutes, but her handlers waved them away. She and Sean stood in front of a backdrop for the movie and took pictures. When everyone left them alone, he still stood there talking to her. I wanted to know what they were saying. Sean looked interested in what she was saying, but I couldn't gauge his emotions.

  "Hello, beautiful. We meet again."

  I turned to see Floyd walking up behind me. Nathan stepped in between us. I put my hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Nathan." He stepped to the side, but I put my hand on his arm wanting him to stay nearby. "What did you think of the movie?" I asked Floyd politely.

  Floyd shook his head. "I'd rather have been the sole target in a snowball war."

  I smiled at him. "I know exactly what you mean."

  "Do you think they have any idea how it feels to be on this end?" He stared at Michelle and Sean, who were still chatting. I wasn't very comfortable with the way Sean was laughing and smiling at her, but I pushed the jealousy aside.

  I shook my head. "No. Not really."

  He picked up two glasses of wine from a young woman holding a tray of them. "A toast then."

  I took the glass from him and pointed it toward his. "What should we toast to?"

  Floyd shrugged. "To having company on the short end of the stick."

  I tilted my head and nodded at him, smiling. "That's appropriate." We clinked glasses, and I took a large gulp of wine, enjoying the warmth that spread through me. "So someone told me you're a model. What's that like?"

  He shrugged. "It's okay. It beats shoveling horse shit—oh, sorry." He put his hand to his mouth.

  "What the hell for?" I asked, and we both laughed lightly.

  "It's boring sometimes. I'd really like to get into acting, but it's tough to break into, especially when you need more experience. I'm not a natural like your man over there."

  I smiled. "He said he was trying to impress a girl when he was sort of discovered. I wish I could have seen him at that age or even been with him when he won the Oscar. I bet he was so excited. But yeah, he was discovered out of the blue."

  "I've heard his story. I've actually read a lot of actor discovery stories. Like Markus Anlon, you know how he got discovered?" I shook my head and he laughed a little. "He and his frat brothers were protesting the wearing of underwear."

  "No?" I laughed.

  "I'm serious. They staged this fake protest and Markus got up there and gave this heart-wrenching, super-serious speech. The drama teacher saw it as she passed by, and the rest is history."

  I started shifting from foot to foot. The balls of my feet were starting to ache badly. "Now don't you go thinking that's how you can get your break."

  He laughed and nudged me in the arm, raising his eyebrows. "Between you and me, there are a lot of people in Hollywood I would protest should be wearing more underwear instead of less." He turned to the side and subtly pointed in the direction of a woman at the table nearby. She had no bra on, and her nipples were totally showing, but she was really unfortunate looking. She had a pear shaped body with a muffin top hanging over the top of her skirt, but she seemed to think she looked hot.

  "Ooooh." I winced and looked away, smiling. I bounced from foot to foot.

  "Let me guess. Your feet are killing you."

  I widened my eyes and nodded. Turning to Nathan, I put my hand on his arm to steady myself as I lifted my leg to readjust the strap on the back of my heel. I just needed to move it to an area that didn't have a massive, deep, red line. Before I could put my foot down though, someone bumped into Nathan, and I went flying. Floyd thankfully put his arm around my upper back, saving me from falling. I looked up to see the no-bra chick laughing drunkenly next to Nathan.

  "Oh, sugar. I'm sorry." She broke into even more laughter and bent over to pick up something she'd dropped on the floo
r. She exposed her back-side and I turned away, smiling.

  When she walked away, Nathan turned worried eyes on me.

  "I'm fine." But when I turned to Floyd, he had his hand over his eyes, and I worried he had been injured. "Are you okay?"

  He kept his eyes shut tight and started laughing really hard. "She was so not wearing underwear." I burst out laughing. Even Nathan cracked a smile. "I'm scarred for life."

  When I finally pulled myself together, I looked over for Sean, but he wasn't where he had been. Glancing around, I saw him near a corner still talking to Michelle and a blonde that looked familiar, but her back was to me. He glanced up at me, and the angry look on his face made me take a step back into Floyd.

  "Hey, watch it there. I've already been assaulted once tonight."

  Was Sean mad at me? No. How could he be? I hadn't done anything wrong. I faced Floyd again. "Looks like they're arguing—maybe we should break it up?"

  He patted me on the shoulder. "I'm bigger. Let me take care of it."

  I nodded, and he walked away. A crowd got between him and them, and when the crowd parted, I couldn't see Sean or Michelle anywhere. It looked like Floyd was stumped too as he turned around, scanning the room.

  I went back to people watching and making comments to Nathan. Every now and then, I managed to break his stoic expression and make him laugh. After a couple glasses of wine and an hour of standing around, I saw Sean at the bar downing a shot of something. When his eyes connected with mine, he started walking in my direction, anger all over his face. I had no idea what to expect as he came closer. Maybe he was mad at Michelle still?

  He grabbed my elbow roughly and pulled me along with him as we walked away from all the people. His grip wasn't incredibly painful, but it was starting to sting, which sent all kinds of fear through me.

  "Let go, Sean." I managed to say in a mostly calm voice. "I'll come with you, but l—let go."

  He pulled his hand away as if I'd burned him and kept walking without looking at me. When we reached a dark corner, he turned to glare down at me. "Having a good time with Floyd?" His accusatory tone and the way he said Floyd's name made me flinch.